When I arrive in Paniola Town with Amethio, it’s already late afternoon. Our reservation is still in place. He knew we would be back. The only difference is that Conia is waiting for us in the entrance area and that I look over my shoulder from time to time. No one promises me Powell won’t just turn up and attack.
“Welcome back, sir!” Straightening her shoulders, Conia is the perfect picture of the sidekick. A woman who knows how to master her tasks.
“Were you able to find out anything?” Amethio, however, cares little for the small formalities on the sidelines. His focus is still on results, but Conia cannot provide them.
“Nothing relevant, sir.” Her shoulders slump. “Just that there are a few teenagers scattered around the islands who belong to a gang called ‘Skull’. Nothing more than a couple of troublemakers. Presumably this blond was also part of the gang.”
Amethio briefly puts a hand to his chin. In his mind, he was probably hoping for more than the meagre haul Conia brought. Then again, she has probably walked the whole distance – assuming she wants to protect a possible Flying-type Pokémon. In this heat, I wouldn’t want to inflict excessive flying on a Corviknight either. And who knows what Pokémon Conia has in her luggage?
“We’ll finalise our destination for tomorrow over dinner and discuss the next steps. Be on time.” Instead of losing himself too deeply in his focus, Amethio pushes the problem to the side before leaving Conia and me behind.
Her posture immediately relaxes and for a moment I want to believe she’s just trying to cut a good figure in front of her boss. Perhaps there is such a thing as promotions within the Explorers too, which can be gained through hard work. It would be a pleasant bonus and another goal I could cling to.
“Is Lillie here as well?” Half in thought, I turn to Conia. Her blue eyes, in a light pink glow, immediately wander in my direction.
“She’s here. I’m supposed to tell you to stop by and see her when you arrive,” she replies slowly. “But she’s probably already fallen asleep. She’s pretty exhausted from the walk.”
“And the egg?”
“It’s on the ship with Zir. He’ll watch it.” She puts her hands on her hips. “I hope it doesn’t hatch in his presence.”
An amused snort on my part agrees with her. We’d probably both like to be there when the shell cracks and the Pokémon comes out. With any luck, the little creature will be patient.
“Which room can I find Lillie in?”
“Up the stairs, the fourth door on the right.”
With a curt “Thank you”, I break away from Conia and thus from any further conversation. If Lillie wants to see me, there are certainly a few things to report and I have to admit, having someone by your side at the end of a day like this makes an adventure more enjoyable. Not that I’m complaining, but everyone needs someone to talk to at some point.
My legs hurriedly carry me up the stairs to the second floor. The first room on the left is mine. Amethio probably has his next door or opposite.
I pause outside Lillie’s room and knock against the dark wood. It takes an eternity for her to open the door. Her blonde mop of hair looks a little tangled and her half-lowered eyes carry dreams I can’t reach. She rubs her eyes in delayed reaction. “Domino. You’re back. Hello.”
There’s a rustling in the background and I don’t have to ask to know that Nebby is rushing around back there.
“Conia said you’d like to see me.” My shoulders shrug before I give a wan smile. All at once, part of me just wants to go to bed. Seeing Lillie so sleepy brings my aching muscles into sharp focus. Somewhere between Brooklet Hill and Route 5, I thought I’d forget about the pain in my thighs, arms and bones in just a few steps.
Lillie, meanwhile, regains her spirits as she opens her eyes fully and the green glow implies anticipation. “Come in!”
As she turns round and leaves me in the doorway, it’s me who trails after her with a delay. The wood just falls into the lock behind me before the blonde turns to me and clutches the handles of two paper bags. She heaves the bags onto the bed with a flourish. Then she turns her attention to me.
“I was in a boutique today,” she begins, “and I saw so many beautiful things. I thought a new image might help me surpass myself and when I was putting together an outfit, I came across some things I think will suit you.” She takes an eager step to the side. In those seconds, the shy girl with the strong insecurity disappears. She blossoms within those moments.
With dragging movements, I force myself to the bags and look inside. My fingers feel jeans and light fabric, probably as soft as the mist of a Gastly. When I pull it out, it’s a pair of blue jeans that will reach just above my knees, combined with a white top in a slightly short cut. However, the printed purple floral pattern makes a nice impression and can also be found at the top of the trousers. Overall, it looks like a solid outfit – until I see the underwear.
“How do you even know my sizes?” The thought hits me like a bolt of lightning. “Can you just guess?”
“N-no!” She hastily waves me off. “Conia and I left later because Zir wanted to give her something back. They said you probably wouldn’t be back on the ship for a while, so I wanted to bring your things. But you didn’t have any spare clothes ... only underwear. And I didn't know whether I should just put it with my stuff or not.” A slight blush settles on her cheeks as she clenches her hands into fists and looks at me. “So I checked the tags in your clothes and tried to buy the same sizes in the shop so that I don't grab something from your things that doesn't belong together and so on....”
Again, my eyes fall on the clothes she bought me. She’s just as shy about the underwear as I would have expected. Everything is white and somehow innocent and would probably suit Lillie better than someone like me who likes a bit of colour.
“D-Don’t you like it?” On the side, Lillie falls into her old pattern, so I turn to her and put on a big smile.
“On the contrary, you’re saving my life with this. And I think you have good taste.”
Her face brightens again. “Thank you! You’ll find the rest in the other bag.”
She has thought of everything. In addition to the usual clothes, she has bought brown shoes with thick soles to ensure good grip on a hike. They also reach over my ankles, so I don’t have to worry about twisting my feet. Underneath, I pull out a straw hat.
“Because of the heat,” Lillie explains immediately. “The shop assistant told me it’s better to wear a hat during the day so you don’t get sunstroke.”
“Good idea,” I comment curtly before grabbing the belt as the last item. “And this one?”
“Isn’t it pretty?” She folds her hands at chest height. The beige suede design looks pretty, and the attached pocket, just big enough to hold the essentials, makes it easier to access my balls and potion. “I figured this would be easier than a backpack.”
I nod. “And how much will I have to pay back?”
Actually, it’s a terrible thought to harbour, especially as I don’t know how I’m going to get any money yet. But I can’t possibly take all these things – just like that. Lillie is fourteen. She shouldn’t be spending money on anyone other than herself.
But she waves it off. “It’s a gift.”
“It’s too much. I can’t accept it all.”
“You have to!” she protests. Her determination shines through clearly. “Take it as thanks for always helping me and Nebby and ... for taking us on this journey.”
It would be wrong to argue with her. In these breaths, Lillie makes every fibre of her body push through. So I nod.
“Fine by me. I’ll accept your gift because I rescued Nebby and captured it once.” With a sigh, I put my hands on my hips. “But you started this journey. I didn’t take you with me. You chose to. You should be proud of that.”
The sparkle in her green eyes settles enchantingly between us and as she sits down happily on the edge of the bed, she seems to have gone through another small evolution.
“You know, while you and Amethio were looking for information, I had a chance to study some herbs with Rotom and Conia. They grow everywhere by the wayside and there are so many different ones!” She tilts her head back. “And that’s when I realised what I want to do when I get the chance.”
More interested and, above all, more awake than before, I settle down next to Lillie and wait for her to continue after an artistic break. But before she does, she turns her gaze in my direction and everything inside her seems to blossom with hope.
“I want to become a Pokémon trainer. And alongside that, I want to go into botany research and invent lots of tools to make life easier for Pokémon.” Her shoulders lift slightly. “Then I can make my future team and all the Pokémon in the world a little happier!”
“That’s a nice dream.” It really is. It’s a very different direction from the one that’s solidifying in me, but it’s something she can blossom behind. A dream that I want Lillie to keep. If I can, I’ll support her at every turn.
“You still want to be a professor?” Her question pushes her dream into the background.
I nod. “A little more with every step. It was actually just a thought that sounded quite nice. But there are many things still unexplored. Lots of little things which could be improved if we researched and understood them. In research, I can indulge in all the questions no one else wants to answer or that have been abandoned.”
“I can imagine a lot of secrets waiting to be uncovered. Nebby, for example.”
“It’s special, isn’t it?” After all, I can hear its voice, so there must be something about it no ordinary Pokémon possesses.
Lillie sinks into her thoughts for a moment and even though I can’t hear her, I’m sure everything revolves around that little Pokémon.
“It just ... appeared one day. And when it was in trouble, I gathered up all my courage and saved it.” A small smile forms on her lips. “I hope one day I’ll understand it better.”
“I’m sure you will,” I reply softly before grabbing the bags and forcing myself to let the time together end.
It’s not evening yet, but my muscles are burning and everything inside me wants to throw itself into some corner and relax. This gives me time to learn a bit about Pokémon on the net. Maybe I’ll study the Pokédex that Rotom has integrated – at least according to the theory it was the same with older models.
“I should go now,” I start again. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
Lillie nods vigorously. “I’m looking forward to it!”
With a smile, I finally push my way out of her room before taking a deep breath and then hurrying to my room at a faster pace. Everything in me longs for a shower not consisting of a mighty water gun that could have ripped my upper body from my hips.
As soon as the door slams shut behind me and I disappear into the small bathroom, however, the day chases over my head once again. I’ve been threatened. I’ve sent my Pokémon into another hopeless battle and had to watch them get hurt; an egg has literally fallen into my lap, a Wishiwashi has almost killed me and I can’t deny having the vague feeling that adventurers are out to get me.
And not in a good way.
As I strip the clothes from my body, I realise the fishy smell I’ve been carrying all this time. Wishiwashi’s water gun really came from the depths of its body.
Only the thought makes me wrinkle my nose. With pointed fingers, I toss the fabric aside and push myself under the hot water – no comparison to the near-trauma that fell around my neck today. Simultaneously, the second when Amethio grabbed me by the arm comes to the fore. Without him, all of this could have been so much worse. He threw himself into the water for my sake – or rather, so he wouldn’t have to answer his boss’s questions about why the girl with the Pokémon voices in her head died.
A sigh settles on my lips. Whatever the Explorers are planning, I hope they’ll accept me as a member. I may be green behind the ears, but I can learn. One day, I’ll be able to approach things as calmly as some trainers do daily.
The shampoo provided by the house smells of coconut and as I massage the stuff into my hair, I cling to Amethio again. I should thank him. Not only did he save my life, he also intervened when I lost the fight against Powell. He gave me some of his cure – some of the powder so I wouldn’t have to waste my meagre potion. Not to mention how he extinguished the Lillipup, whom I could do nothing but harm.
His every action improves the predicaments I conjure and, though I hate to admit it, my father was right. Without someone like Amethio, this wouldn’t be an adventure to challenge me, but the nightmare of any greenhorn who hasn’t prepared well enough.
I can only shake my head at my former arrogance. I suppose you can never be prepared enough as an unworldly girl.
I lean my head back briefly and allow the water to splash on my face. I owe Amethio more than a simple “thank you”. I just don’t know what I can do to return the favour.
Hopefully, I’ll get a chance soon.
》 W H I S P E R S 《
The safest way up the mountain is past the Battle Royal Dome – a building where trainers can indulge their passion for fighting together with their team. It’s a little stopover and yet it’s also a place I’d like to run away from right now.
Despite the heat, I can’t shake off the goose bumps. Lillie’s clothes make the dry air and burning sun more bearable – the hat even provides decent shade for my face and with the small bag on my hip, I feel ready for an out-of-the-ordinary adventure. However, fact is my muscles are burning like fire, every breath hurts and my hands are soaked in sweat as I follow Amethio through the heavy concrete arch.
He looks unchanged. His waves are perfect and his clothes seem too warm for the sun of Alola – although I’ve known since yesterday that the fabric of his dark, matt purple shirt is thin. It probably lies light as a feather on his shoulders. Even the black cloth trousers with the purple arrow running from one leg to the waistband no longer send the message of burning him underneath. Only the brown, gently upturned shoes, which clearly tell everyone he is travelling on business and not for pleasure, make him unusually noticeable among the worn sandals and flip-flops of the residents.
“Are we just going to ask around here?” Eventually I break the silence between us. Part of me wants to go back to Lillie and Conia, who are still sitting in the lodging, probably enjoying a glass of iced tea in the sun.
Amethio doesn’t even glance over his shoulder as he answers me: “No. We’re going to meet someone here.”
My brows lift. “Have you been able to find anyone who has the information we’re looking for?”
His steps slow down, allowing me to catch up and fall in line beside him. Only then does he give me a measured sideways glance. “Were you even listening at breakfast?”
The quiet sizzle in his voice makes me sweat. I definitely wasn’t listening, which was mainly because I was too tired to follow anyone. The previous day took more out of me than I’d like to admit, and yet I was thrown out of bed at eight this morning by Conia to attend the incredibly important breakfast.
“I think ... I just didn’t understand most of it,” I start – a nice middle ground before I have to admit I’ve deliberately blanked him out.
Meanwhile, Amethio’s eyelids droop a little. His brows draw together and even though I’m sure in these breaths he doesn’t believe a word I say, I smile wryly.
“An informant from the Explorers got in touch last night. We often do business with him,” my companion finally begins. “He’s been here for three weeks, fighting his battles in the Dome.”
“So we meet with him and he tells us about Rayquaza?” I tilt my head. “Just like that?”
“You’re going to take part in the next show with him.”
“Hah?” I stop for a moment. The corners of my mouth twitch uncontrollably and I think for a breath my body radiates more heat than the goddamn sun. Simultaneously, I’m frozen stiff somewhere in the middle.
“He can’t afford to come last in any of the fights again. You’ll be there to support him and lose to him,” Amethio says.
“Why?”
“The prize money.”
I gasp briefly. It’s hard to believe Amethio is trying to explain to me now we’re helping an unsuccessful rat succeed in hope to gain some information we don’t yet know. On top – I really can’t deny it – I’m a bloody failure at fighting. My success rate is probably less than fifty per cent when my opponents are really out to beat me with everything they’ve got. Not like against Hau, whose Popplio was as beginner as Ying and me, and not like against the tourist who dropped out in time. These fights probably fall more into the category of Raticate and Wishiwashi with a dash of Carbink.
“No way,” I finally decide as I raise both hands and shake my head frantically, causing my loose tail to sway from side to side. “I’m not going to set foot in there and fight anyone.”
Rations or not, I don’t want to watch one of my Pokémon get hurt again. And I don’t want to do it while hundreds of people watch and cheer as if we are in a boxing match in a cage.
“It will give you battle experience,” Amethio finally counters. My reluctance leaves him cold. “If you don’t learn in practice, moments like the one against the Carbink will happen again.”
There are two thousand curses I want to utter in those seconds, but he’s right. To get better and make sure my Pokémon and I never have to stumble through hell again, we need to gain experience in battle. What’s more, the Dome Royale is probably safer than a battle in the wild. Still, I find it hard to agree.
The last results were simply too bad, too cruel, and too thoughtless. Maybe that’s why Amethio wants to push me into it. I have to learn to stay calm in a problem situation – even if I’m slowly but surely losing interest in the fights. Of course, I want to become a good trainer. But a slower pace would be desirable.
I shake my head inwardly. All this back and forth is something I shouldn’t be worrying about. It’s silly to stress about it when the Battle Royal Dome is safer than the outside world. If I can learn on a civilised field with rules, then that’s better than watching my partners die. Amethio certainly won’t always be by my side to save my ass.
“How does a fight like this work?” Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I rejoin my companion so we can continue on our way. The otherwise open field with a road and a large green area with benches in the centre offers only brief distraction. Instead, the magnificent structure of the Dome draws closer.
“Four trainers compete against each other at the same time with one Pokémon. The last one standing wins,” explains Amethio. “Your job is to pave the way for our informant.”
I grimace briefly. I don’t have a choice. Ultimately, I want to be part of the Explorers and this will only work if I pull myself together and do what is asked of me. Even if every single cell in me is gearing up to make all my nightmares a reality. On top, I have to embarrass myself in front of many people, which doesn’t really help the game.
“What about my other Pokémon? Do I have to give them away?”
He nods curtly. “They’ll store them for you.”
I’ve never parted with my Pokémon before, and the mere thought makes the heat on my skin suddenly bitterly cold. What if they get lost? Someone could steal them. Some Pokémon disappear without a trace and are sold on black markets, as you can sometimes hear on the news.
In an instant, I fish two of my balls out of my pocket and hold them out to Amethio. His gaze fixes briefly on my palm, where the two balls clack against each other with every step. Then he takes them. His black-gloved hands accept my worries without a word, so at least I can be sure nothing will happen to my partners. Someone like Amethio, who has two magnificent Pokémon at his side, doesn’t need companions like Zorua and Growlithe.
Still, my arm feels heavy as I lower it and we cross the last steps to the Dome. The entrance area beckons with bright blue floor tiles in an eye-catching pattern. The floodlights on the sides are still switched off at this time of day – fair enough at eleven in the morning. The colourful entrance and the mighty sign above it probably attract enough attention. They barely reach me behind the cotton wool of my thoughts.
As soon as we pass the entrance, my heart starts to race. The reception area has been kept simple. In the corners are display windows with prizes and photos of winners. Two mighty staircases at the sides lead up one floor. In between, people are chatting, buying tickets, queuing or communicating with their Pokémon. Everyone is preparing for the next battle and I don’t have to turn to Amethio and ask to know we’ve come here just for this hour. The next fight starts in thirty minutes.
Lips pressed together, I approach the free registration desk and, although it would be my job to say something, Amethio takes the lead. He has probably already noticed the uncertainty in my demeanour.
I didn’t think fighting in front of an audience paying for the show would make me so uneasy. But it’s also the first time. In my memory, there is no moment when I have ever stood in front of more than five people – and I wasn’t even the centre of interest. Now it’s different, and talking to each other is definitely not like a Pokémon fight.
“Domino!” The sharpness in Amethio’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. It’s nothing more than a brisk whisper, but it reaches me and takes my breath away for a second.
When my eyes meet his, it’s a small card he’s holding out to me. Once again, I force myself to smile wryly as I take the ticket. “I assume you’ll be among the spectators?”
“I’ll accompany you to the preparation room,” he replies, and even though I want to believe he’s doing it so I don’t turn round in the middle, it’s obvious he has to introduce me to his informant.
Slowly, I push my way through the corridor unlocked for us and this time it’s me who moves faster than Amethio. My legs just want to get it all over with and the rest of my body agrees. So I’m the first to land in the large, circular room. A few trainers have sat down on fixed benches and only one of them turns his attention in my direction.
When he stands up, I hold my breath. His movements have me in their sights and it means he must be the man I’m supposed to be backing. He is quite unremarkable, although clearly the oldest in the room. Presumably in his thirties, he strolls along as calmly as if victory would fall into his lap today – which is a fact.
“Well, well, well. Ammy and a little doll.” He stops just in front of me and leans down towards me. The broad grin on his lips brings snow-white teeth to the fore, canines as sharp as an Arbok’s. “I suppose you’ll be giving me a lot of support today, huh?”
It’s hard to imagine there’s anyone on this planet who would call Amethio “Ammy”, but this guy in front of me, two heads taller, doesn’t care about the little things. Amethio’s stare doesn’t change either, and for a split second I’m left with the thought of this being the way things always are between them. So I nod.
Without further ado, the stranger straightens up before tapping his chest and introducing himself as “Bellro”. I don’t miss his black painted fingernails or the brief opportunity to scrutinise his clothes. The black shirt and baggy trousers of the same colour make him a shadow of the streets you’d best not follow. His red eyes are the only colour I can make out in all this.
“Now then, little one. You bring me the victory and I’ll bring you up to standard. Sounds fair, doesn’t it?” Without further ado, he turns to Amethio. “I reckon your boss will be pleased if you throw something of value at his feet. Otherwise you’ll fail again.”
Shortly, Amethio’s lips press together. Whatever he would like to throw in his opponent’s face, he swallows it down. Presumably, this connection only works because silence ensures no one takes a swing at the other.
With a sigh, I reach for my remaining Poké Ball. Pikipek and I will have to do our best not to fail. I can only hope the other fighters in the room are weaker than me and my stumbling attempts.
Before I can turn my attention back to the boys, Bellro has already put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “I’ll give her back if she survives this!”
I can’t even object as he pushes me away from Amethio and heads straight for a spot next to the door that will propel us in front of the crowd. His choice of words clings to me, and the fear of not being the slightest bit of help chokes my throat.
“Now calm down, doll!” Bellro bends down and leans on his knees. The broad grin on his face never fades. “This is the lowest level of fighting. Practically the league of eternal losers!” He snorts. “Along with Amethio, I could have applied for the advanced ones, but his offer was really stiff. Either I take you with me to the beginners, or my information will be paid for with the same amount of money I usually get.”
“Oh...” is all I can manage. The Explorers, and by extension Amethio’s group, are cutting costs by sending me, and since I have a lot to learn anyway, it’s clear I’m being sent ahead. The picture comes together.
“Boring, isn’t it?” Bellro continues to grumble. “But never mind. The beginner class isn’t as simple as you might think, and many who are much better than beginners sign up here for easy wins. The concept should be revised a little, but people love a certain lack of fairness. What would life be if we couldn’t get unnecessarily upset about some nonsense?”
The Battle Royal Dome system sounds like the nightmare of anyone who came here with certain ideas about fighting. It also means my worries still hold true, because no one can promise me we won’t face at least one pro despite everything.
“You’re getting paler and paler. Don’t tell me you’re nervous!” Bellro lets out a short laugh and when I hastily glance over my shoulder, I realise Amethio is no longer there. So from now on, the problems are all mine.
I immediately lower my eyelids and try to take deep breaths. The pounding in my chest hasn’t subsided yet and the unfamiliarity within seconds makes my hands sticky. The hope I might still be lying in bed, dreaming, rushes past me briefly, but disappears when I hear the announcement from a loudspeaker in the top corner of the room that the next battle is about to begin.
Time has passed far too quickly.
My fingers tighten around Coro’s ball and when Bellro stands up, I have no choice but to follow him out of the door.
For a moment, the bright, artificial light blinds me. The radiant colours creating an exciting grandstand scene also bring the crowd to the fore. It’s easy to imagine that absolutely every tourist on Akala comes to this place to watch the fights or witness them from afar. No doubt some local residents also make their way here – on their lunch break or after work, on days off or whenever they can get away from their duties. The roar of the crowd rings in my ears and the stifling heat penetrates deep into my body.
The stage rises in front of us. A huge fighting area with four colourfully illuminated corners, where each of us can find a place as we please. I get caught somewhere in the green area. Bellro enjoys the red glow on his skin. Our opponents, running close behind us, rest under yellow and blue. Above the centre of the fighting area, which would be enough to seat three hundred people, a voice echoes from another speaker. But the words barely reach me. Instead, my consciousness clings to the stands leading diagonally upwards. Some spectators look down on us from six metres and clap, although they probably don’t see as much as they hoped. It feels like we’re at an exhibition – an auction where we have to prove how much we’re worth.
I swallow. I’m probably just taking it all too seriously.
In the background, the announcement blares through the loudspeakers and we let out our chosen Pokémon in unison. Pikipek jumps in front of me to give his opponents a look. The choice is wide. A Rockruff stands legs apart in front of one unknown. A few steps further on, a Slowking raises its head as if it is the king of the world. The intelligent gleam in its eyes is unpleasant. Its owner grins a bright white smile.
Bellro’s partner is a Marowak. Its brown body, just one metre tall, with a light-coloured belly, looks almost cute if it weren’t for the focused gaze and the bone in its paw. The skull, which almost seems to be its own, reflects the artificial light as if it had been polished. Bellro seems to be making a great effort for his partner and yet I am not necessarily in good spirits when I hear the growling on the other side.
To my surprise, however, it’s the owner of the Rockruff who gives me a serious nod and when I glance at Bellro again, his contorted mouth is all the hint it takes to push the snob with his Slowking to the fore. I don’t know what it is, but the knot in my stomach won’t ease, and as I look closer at our Pokémon, there’s this thought that this Slowking is no rookie.
In the next moment, the battle starts and I have no plan on what to do. My breath builds up in my lungs, but Bellro doesn’t let me freeze on the spot.
“Grab that oversized, pink monster!” he roars. His demand is so clear that my shoulders shrug and I glance at Pikipek.
I want to say something, launch an attack, but seeing Coro’s tiny form compared to a Pokémon much bigger than me dries up my throat. For a moment, all I can do is watch. The snob’s lips move, but the words don’t reach me. Instead, all I can do is follow the fight.
Rockruff chases ahead. With a powerful leap, it pounces on the Slowking, ready to bite. Its small but powerful teeth aim for its opponent’s tail, but fail to catch it. Slowking simply takes a few steps to the side, dancing from one foot to the other, so that Rockruff’s attacks remain nothing more than fruitless attempts. Simultaneously, Marowak intervenes, jumps in and swings a bone, only to almost hit Rockruff on the snout.
“Oh, dear.” Suddenly, the voice of our opponent sends a shiver down my spine. I swallow. This Slowking can talk!
I have to blink several times to bring the fight back into focus and look at the attacks. They are uncoordinated. Brown fur mingles with white bone, but never really with the pink mass of the Slowking. Its movements resemble a dance, the skill of a real fighter who has little in common with Pokémon. If I remember correctly, that’s because of its intellect. It is clever. Smarter than is good for us all.
Before I can judge it better, it lashes out with a paw and smashes it straight against the Rockruff’s chest. The Pokémon flies backwards against the barrier and even if it's enough to divert my attention, Marowak doesn’t let itself get distracted. I hastily focus on the fight again and notice the comments in the background, but I can’t hear them. It’s loud. Far too bright. Far too hot.
I wipe my hands on my trousers as the Marowak’s bone crashes against the Slowking’s shoulder. Voices overlap in my skull. Hissing joins with whimpering, with demands and with encouragement. With fear. Hate. Confusion. Tiredness. My stomach turns. Throbbing behind my temple. The Marowak is knocked to the ground with a heavy headbutt. Bellro shouts something.
They all shout something...
“Domino, darling, are you all right?” Violet eyes scrutinise me. Long hair shines. I hold out my hands but can’t reach them.
My mouth opens, but I’m left with silence. My head is pounding. No matter how hard I dig my fingers into my temples, it doesn’t stop.
“Headache?” the stranger asks me. Her voice is like honey on my senses.
And then, suddenly, I think I feel her hand on the top of my head. A gentle touch that presses warmth into my chest and gently caresses me. Affection that glides over my skin completely foreign to me. “Domino, it’s very simple. You-“
“Wake up!”
I flinch. My body is electrified, the voices in my skull have faded, and as I stare at Bellro with my mouth open, every cell in my body feels like it’s drying out.
“Do something, or you can stick your info up your ass!” he hisses, barely audible to me – and possibly to the people nearby.
I watch the fight again, but I don’t have time to get a picture. Slowking’s body is already threatening to pounce on Pikipek’s.
“Such primitive attacks,” its comments on the sidelines don’t improve the circumstances one bit. “There’s a lack of genuine talent, really.”
And this from a Pokémon that would be nothing more than soup without Shellder’s poison!, I exclaim inwardly, before clenching my hands into fists.
“Echoed voice!” I give the immediate order and Pikipek seems almost relieved that he’s finally allowed to do something. His wings begin to beat and even though the echo rings in its ears, it’s hardly enough to stop our opponent. Instead, the Pokémon shakes off the attack as if it is nothing more than a slightly unpleasant breeze.
However, it is enough to call Marowak back into the programme. It hurls its bone with vigour. A throw that Slowking catches easily – only to be confronted by Marowak in the next blink of an eye. It snaps its head back and prepares for a headbutt. But Slowking beats it to it. Its chest swells, its cheeks fill up and in the same breath Marowak swings its head forwards, a water gun smashes into its face with such force its head is snapped back again.
This time Marowak lands on its feet and as Bellro yells a “fling”, Slowking also moves. Its jumpy movements hurriedly dance across the battlefield as it pulls a berry from under its striped collar.
“Rotom!” Without further ado, I dedicate myself to analysing the berry.
“Chilan Berry. Halves damage when the wearer is hit by a Normal-type attack.”
My throat hurts as I swallow. Headbutt is already of little use. This berry will make it even more invincible. There’s no way we can let it get to the point of eating it.
“Coro! Grab this berry!” Somewhere in the back of my mind, there is the certainty that Coro likes to steal. If that’s what can make the fight easier for us, then it shouldn’t be up to me. Pikipek is allowed to realise its full potential as a professional thief.
As my Pokémon rises into the air and circles, waiting for its moment to strike, it’s Rockruff that gets involved again. This time, it puts its whole body into it. The attempt to catch Slowking with a tackle works, but has little effect. It is too powerful to be flustered by such a weak attack. Before it knows it, Slowking grabs it by a paw and hurls it against one barrier. The impact elicits a yelp from the Pokémon and our opponent only lets out a soft sigh – careless seconds in which the berry in its paw disappears without a trace.
“Oh?” Its head tilts upwards to Coro, who devours the berry with wild pecking. “A waste, that is...”
It’s a starting signal for Rockruff to attack once more, even though it’s limping and panting. Its trainer should give up, but the heat of the lights makes his form waver and his behaviour vague. His body movements are sluggish. Sweat leaves dark stains on his shirt; and Rockruff attacks again with a bite.
Visibly annoyed by the lost berry, Slowking turns round briefly to face its opponent. The Rockruff’s teeth dig deep into one of the Pokémon’s arms. A sacrifice helping him to pull the dog towards itself and thunder its skull with force against the Rockruff’s.
Howls ring in my ears, the crowd cheers and the goose bumps on my skin burn. Rockruff goes down for good, hits the ground and stays there without moving. Blood sticks to the fur on its head and its body trembles. Its trainer barely moves, merely collects it with the help of the Poké Ball and in the next moment turns to a nurse who has the same style as Nurse Joy. She has rushed to the edge to pick up the injured Pokémon in the ball and prevent anything worse from happening.
I can only take faint comfort from the scenario as Slowking’s blood drips to the ground and it lets out a drawn out yawn. The fight seems to offer it nothing. It wipes us out as if we are a side task.
Yet, giving up is out of the question. We need the information. Coro is still doing well and Marowak seems more robust than expected.
“Sugar doll.” When Bellro turns to me, I know I have to deliver more than just obligatory help. “You’re going to give it your all now. Attack with your Pikipek and make sure this beast only thinks about your Pokémon. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Maybe I should have gone into this battle with Raya. Her attack power is stronger than Coro’s. Or Ying. Her flexibility would have been a big help. Instead, I chose Pikipek and even though he doesn’t look strong, he probably doesn’t want to shine any less than the other two. This also means we have to give everything our small repertoire can offer.
“Coro, beak! Hack at the Slowking, upset it!” Without further ado, I point at our opponent. Meanwhile, Pikipek only gives me a quick glance. He has understood his task and the short chirping resembles a child’s war cry.
In a flash, he chases down his opponent, the tip of his beak aimed at the back of Slowking’s neck. Of course it dodges, takes a step to the side and strikes at my partner – but Coro is more skilful than expected. A half turn avoids an unfavourable collision and yet his beak leaves a clear scratch on the Slowking’s shoulder.
“How unpleasant...” it mumbles just loud enough to be heard.
But that’s not all.
While Slowking conveys a slight hint of surprise for the first time in this fight, Coro shoots at it again. His speed is so high even our opponent’s dancing doesn’t escape without damage.
The heart racing in my chest becomes so strong I feel dizzy and yet somehow I stay on my feet. We can win. We can defeat this opponent.
But just as Pikipek comes hurtling down on the Pokémon in a straight line, Slowking’s chest swells.
“Coro, you need to dodge!” My command comes in time, but my judgement is wrong. Based on the movement, I guessed a water gun. But what follows is something else.
It squirts water out of its snout, draws circles in the air and forms rings of water floating away from it in quivering waves – straight towards Pikipek.
“Water pulse,” my Rotom explains. It spares itself the rest. In these seconds, it is clever enough to assess the situation.
Coro lands in the middle of these rings, which inflict a kind of pain on him I can’t see. He squints his eyes, breaks off his dive and shortly afterwards chirps noisily.
“I’ve already said attacks like this are terribly unpleasant. You may give up now.” With a flinging motion of its paws, the water pulse shatters and Coro loses all tension.
His small body slides to the ground, hits the tiles, but only briefly captivates me when I catch sight of Marowak. It tries to prevail against Slowking with a powerful headbutt, but every effort is met with a sigh. It only needs to slap its opponent, and Bellro’s Pokémon lands next to mine.
“Weaklings should not fight. This calling is solely for the-“ it breaks off. In the midst of its dismissive speech, Marowak’s bone crashes against its skull – or rather, against the Shellder it wears as a crown.
The force of the attack detaches the Pokémon from the Slowking’s head and before it can reach for it, it crashes to the ground.
Slowking’s eyes widen. Its movements slow down. The striped collar simply falls off. The intelligent gleam in its eyes fades and as it stands on all fours, all intellect seems to be gone from its body. It only lets out a yawn before retreating to its horrified trainer.
Marowak meanwhile pulls itself back to its feet – staggering but still conscious. Coro, however, raises his head briefly and looks in my direction. A quick shake of my head gives him the knowledge he needs to remain motionless.
The heat is still on my cheeks and the headache is clearly noticeable, but the stone falling from my heart is worth more than any information.
