—Ten Years Later—

—Jin Blackwood—

[And with that Force Palm from Riolu, the challenger Rory Cantwell has taken the first round against the Aspertia Gym Leader Cheren! Stay tuned for the next round as we head to—]

I turned off the grainy computer and finished jotting down the annotations on the previous battles in my battlebook. I wasn’t just watching the battles for enjoyment, although that was definitely a main reason, but also as an educational tool. Well, that would probably be my reasoning if my mom happened to see.

She wasn’t too keen on Trainers, something about my father getting into an accident before I was born, so watching the Battle Channel in our house was restricted heavily. At least while she was around.

On the other hand, my dad didn’t really care about that rule very much. He worked as a Trainer for about fifteen years before settling down with mom, and often told stories about his exploits around the dinner table.

Most of the stories were about missions through the forest, and was especially fond of telling the story of how he and mom met while on an expedition, and needed to escape from a rampaging Fraxure. But of the stories he told, I was the most captivated by the stories he told of his battles against other Trainers.

There weren’t many, with him technically being an unlicensed Trainer and unable to participate in League-sanctioned battles, but the few he mentioned were enthralling.

Like most of the other children my age, I want to become a Trainer when I’m old enough to venture out. But it’ll be at least another three years before I can even hope for that chance.

It’s common knowledge that a person’s Essence Core —the organ that allows people to become a Trainer— doesn’t awaken until their teenage years, except in some unique and extreme circumstances, but since that hasn’t happened for me yet I won’t count on it.

Besides that, there isn’t much knowledge of how to become a Trainer that is accessible to the public. I tried searching online with the family computer, but it seems to be a secret that is kept under wraps for the most part.

This makes sense, because Trainers have pretty much become living weapons at scales unimaginable to ordinary people like us, so there need to be restrictions on the information allowed to the public or else there could be mass chaos if the wrong people obtain that power.

‘Just three years…’

Until then, there wasn’t much for me to do. Public schooling wasn’t great in Brightmoon Town, in fact it could almost be considered non-existent due to the lack of children who actually lived within the town.

Including myself, I could count the number of other children in town on one hand. The two Morato siblings, Eric Rossinol, myself, and finally my younger sister Amira.

But the parents didn’t want their children to grow up uneducated, so they created a collective agreement to help teach each other’s children the basics which they otherwise wouldn’t.

Reading, math, botany, Pokémon breeding…

The list goes on, but every day we would meet up together and receive lessons from at least one of the parents on a variety of topics. Mr. and Mrs. Morato had been teachers by occupation in Castelia City before deciding to get away from the bustle, so they taught us reading, writing, math, and the history of Unova on the first three days every week.

None of that was particularly difficult for me, although listening to the history of Unova was as boring as watching Metapods battle. I mean, they can’t even attack, why even televise it?

‘Ahem, I got ahead of myself.’

Mrs. Rossinol was a botanist with the Breeder’s Hall, and taught us how to care for plants and harvest them without damaging them. This was one of my favorites, since we often got to eat the Berries we planted if there were good harvests.

But by far the most difficult of the subjects were were taught was Pokémon breeding, courtesy of my mom Kira. Honestly, this wasn’t really a subject for the three others who weren’t her own children, but for Amira and I we were required to stay with her at the Breeder’s Hall for extended periods of time while younger.

Before we knew how to read, she would bring us around the unevolved Pokémon in order to help us get acclimated to being around them, and we helped out with feeding them when they needed extra hands.

After we learned how to read, things changed. Mom threw textbook after textbook onto our desks at the Hall and expected us to read through them front to back, memorizing the important formulas and basic knowledge of the trade. They weren’t high-level textbooks, only the introductory ones which the first-year apprentices used, but for children not even ten years old they were quite challenging.

I mean, what kid learns how to make a Pokéblock before they can do long division?

Me. It was me. And like you would expect, they weren’t any good.

I couldn’t control the Berry Blender well enough to mix the Berries correctly, and ended up only making Black Pokéblocks. By all metrics those could be considered wastes due to the presence of residual toxins that remained within from the combinations of the Berries’ juices, so I couldn’t even feed them to the baby Pokémon.

Well, there actually was a Pokémon I could feed them to: Trubbish. But I’m not counting that since he’s literally made of garbage and could shrug off the poison in the Pokéblocks like it was nothing. At least I’m not being wasteful with resources though. That’s something?

My sister, Amira, on the other hand seemed to be a natural at it. She graduated from the beginner Pokéblock making class mom enrolled us in within the first two weeks of us joining, while I’m still going to class every other weekend for practice.

But I don’t plan on giving up on this any time soon. I know the theory, so it’s only a matter of time before I succeed.

Also, if you would’ve expected there to be information on how to become a Trainer within the Breeder coursework we received, there actually wasn’t much in the way of information. All I could gather from context clues was that Trainers heavily utilize Essence like Pokémon, but in the beginner coursework they didn’t go in depth at all on this topic.

“Jin, are you ready? We’re gonna be late for the Bouffawagon!”

From downstairs, I heard my dad call for me, and glanced at the clock hanging on the study’s wall.

‘11:21. Better wrap this up then.’

Putting on my favorite violet hoodie and stuffing my battlebook —the notebook where I kept my battle notes— into my pocket I rushed down the stairs.

***

—Anville City, Unova—

There aren’t many places for Trainers to battle within Brightmoon Town, as a sanctuary for many different species of Pokémon. If they allowed battling within the town limits it could result in Pokémon seeking treatment getting injured, or could even throw the town into chaos if the wrong Pokémon get wrapped into a battle.

But most Trainers need to battle, or at least they need to let their Pokémon battle to release the excess energy they would’ve otherwise kept bottled up.

Proper exercise/stimulation is one of the only needs that all Pokémon possess, alongside food and shelter, even being more important than water in some cases. Not that weird, given how there are many Fire-Types that could die if they consumed too much water, but that’s just an area where humans and Pokémon can have different needs.

For Trainers in Brightmoon Town, the lack of facilities dedicated to battling meant they needed to go to other towns or cities nearby to battle or head into the forest to get the required stimulation. Some chose to take expeditions into the forest alongside Breeders, like dad and mom used to before my birth.

But the vast majority of Trainers would go to the nearby Anville City in order to participate in the Battle Subway exhibitions. These exhibitions were open to all Trainers, whether they were licensed or not, and allowed them to fight against other Trainers and Pokémon without risk of death.

This was also one of the only times when mom actually allowed us to get out and go experience what the life of a Trainer could be like. Well, it was more like she didn’t want dad to go back to expeditions in the forest, and as a Breeder she knew they couldn’t ignore the needs of his Pokémon so it would be better to fulfill those needs in a controlled environment.

So, at the end of every month dad would head to Anville City and enter into some of the lower divisions of the exhibitions. After Amira and I grew old enough, he started taking us as well, and it quickly became one of my favorite events every month.

A first-hand look at battles when I normally only ever got to watch on a screen? Who wouldn’t be excited?

“Jin, Mira, will you guys be okay alone?” Dad asked, concerned. On his shoulder, Minccino sat perched and nibbled on an Oran Berry.

The three of us stood in front of the Spirit Subway Station, located in the heart of Anville City. On the surface, the Station didn’t look to be that big and was only a couple stories tall, about the same size as nearby buildings. But that didn’t even scratch the surface of the facilities it possessed.

Considering this was only a branch location of the Battle Subway, while the main attraction was located in Nimbasa City, I couldn’t even begin to fathom the magnitude of that one.

“We’ll be fine.” I said, winking and giving him a thumbs up.

“Yeah dad, this isn’t our first time.” Amira continued, making the ‘okay’ sign.

“Okay, okay. Then I’m gonna go on ahead and get prepared.” Dad said, and tousled both of our heads. “Stay safe.”

“Min!”

“We should be saying that to you.” Amira retorted, but hugged dad and gave Minccino a final rub.

“Yeah, don’t go losing in the first car again.” I continued. Dad clutched his chest in an exaggerated sign of pain hearing this, but laughed it off and entered the Station with Minccino.

That only left Amira and I outside. We needed to buy tickets, find our seats, and probably buy lunch, but after that we’d have a couple hours to watch.

“C’mon, let’s go!” Amira said, pulling me towards the entrance.

After buying our tickets at the entrance, we could finally head down into the main hub of the Station. Just past the entrance, hundreds of people wandered around the large circular area, each of whom were going to one of the four lines.

In the southeastern corner, the Yellow Line was the primary method of transportation to and from Nimbasa City, as well as the main Battle Subway Station, and connected the entirety of Anville City to the rest of the Spirit Subway.

Besides that, there were only three lines that were a part of the Battle Subway: The Green Line, the Blue Line, and the Red Line. The Green Line focuses on Lower Division Single Battles, the Blue Line focuses on Lower Division Trainer Battles, and the Red Line focuses on Lower Division Double Battles.

But besides these lines, the rest of the Station had many different types of facilities. From a Pokémon Center and Pokémart for Trainers entering and exiting to a variety of concession stands for spectators, the atmosphere felt more like a sporting event than a subway.

In the center of the Station, a large seating area was set up in a circular fashion, and large monitors were connected to the ceiling overhead for spectators who wished to watch the entertainment.

Each monitor connected to a certain subway car, so every battle that took place would be recorded. This let people choose the battles to watch based on their interest, and naturally the most exciting battles would become the most popular.

Sitting down in one of the seats, I pulled out my battlebook from my pocket and flipped it halfway open to the first empty page.

–August 15th Battle Subway Exhibitions–

Now, I could just relax and focus on analyzing the fights. Looking up at the monitors, a handful of battles were in progress, but I couldn’t see dad on any of them. I probably wouldn’t see him for another couple minutes, at least until the Green Line came back to the Station, so I refocused on the other matches.

***

Minutes passed by as I watched the first round of battles on the monitors. Some of them almost caught my attention, but the vast majority of people who entered the exhibitions were completely new, unlicensed Trainers who had just gotten their first Pokémon.

They couldn’t control their Pokémon well, and fumbled the instructions given to their partners so badly that in most cases the winners were just the team that didn’t completely shoot themselves in the foot.

‘How? It’s normally not this bad.’

On the screen, a teenage boy with flat hair commanded his partner Tympole to attack the enemy Weedle.

‘Okay, he should have the advantage if he stays away. Tympole’s naturally quick and should be able to learn some ranged Moves, so he should just send those at Weedle from a distance. The only danger is if he gets up close and makes contact.’

I analyzed the situation, thinking about what the optimal strategy could be if he used that. Now, here comes a quick pop quiz.

---

What did the Tympole do next?

A: Shoot a Water Gun.

B: Reposition on top of the subway’s seating for high ground.

C: Use Hypnosis and put Weedle to sleep.

---

If you answered ‘D: Charge straight forward without using any Moves’, you’d be correct!

“No! What are you doing?” My brain hurt.

As expected, the Weedle immediately responded to Tympole’s brainless charge and unleashed a Poison Sting, which connected and completely incapacitated Tympole.

But was it really the Tympole’s fault? Not really. This was more of a case of a poor Trainer with little knowledge of his own strengths and weaknesses. Otherwise it wouldn’t normally be an issue for a Tympole to take care of a Weedle.