Aaron's Pokemon

- Artoria (Kirlia)
- Jeanne (Flaaffy)
- Durvasa (Mankey)
- en Cocotte (Egg)
- Magellan (Chikorita)

Entree 5.1

Aaron Fulan
Rustboro City

"All… my… hate…" Chaz wheezed as he sprawled out on the pokemon center courtyard. Gone was the blonde debonair wannabe. He was now dressed in a blue tracksuit, complete with a soggy headband soaked with sweat.

"Oh, come on, it's barely been half an hour," I chided. I'd kept things simple with some stretches and a series of sprints interspersed with jogs to build up stamina. It was important to do both aerobic and anaerobic exercises consistently.

"Easy for you to say. You do this every day."

"Actually, this is the watered down version. Artoria and I usually jog, rehearse kendo kata, and then spar for a bit. I also like to get in some upper body work after lunch while in the wild since walking so much keeps my legs in good shape."

"That's insane. You're insane. You train like you're a fighting type pokemon."

"I train like a trainer," I corrected. "How can I trust my pokemon to respect my instructions if I don't show them I'm putting in just as much effort?"

"That's not fair. Humans and pokemon are built different."

"Pokemon follow their trainers, but I don't think enough people ask themselves why, or what kinds of leaders they want to be."

"The reason Macherie follows me…"

"As for me, swordsmanship has always been the one thing I took pride in," I said with a rueful smile. "Fitness and combat are the things I can teach my pokemon, so I want to dedicate myself to that. They each have their own dreams, but to achieve those dreams, strength will be necessary."

Chaz gazed up at the clouds with a contemplative hum. "I guess… I guess I've never thought about it like that. Macherie's always been with me. When I decided I wanted to become a coordinator, she was so excited for me that I never asked myself what she wanted."

"It could be that she's just happy for her friend. Sometimes, it really is that simple. I could have Artoria ask her for you if you want."

"I… No. I think it's something we should work out on our own."

"Have it your way."

"You're still a crazy sword-idiot."

I pretended to look at a watch I didn't have. "My, look at that. We've wasted enough time on a break, haven't we? Up, Chaz! Seize the day!"

"You're a sadist!"

Off on the other side of the practice fields, Macherie was being put through her paces by Durvasa. I knew firsthand that the best way to reinforce your knowledge was to teach someone else. That was why I had my mankey going over proper boxing technique with Chaz's machop.

Archie the hitmonchan had taught him footwork, punches, and combos, and all different from the karate-like style inherent to the machop line. By experiencing this different combat style, I wanted Macherie to learn more about herself and her instincts. And, the more she learned about herself, the more she'd have to teach Durvasa in turn.

A little ways away, Chaz's venonat and growlithe, Veronique and Smolder respectively, were doing their best to dodge Jeanne's Shock Waves. It was a futile effort, but excellent agility training.

Next to them, Artoria was guiding Magellan through some meditation exercises. I doubted Magellan would ever develop psychic potential, not beyond things like Light Screen, but that wasn't the goal.

Artoria was trying to teach Magellan to become more aware of his own plant cells. The idea was that if he could learn to manually increase the rate of his photosynthesis, he could use that energy to heal himself faster.

It was a work in progress.

Lisia and her team were testing out new performance ideas in a separate section. Or, I assumed that was what was happening. We couldn't see anything because Ali and Grace, her ducklett, had created a shroud of Mist. She'd started jogging with us, got inspired by something halfway through, and ran off to develop her ideas alone, much like a painter who couldn't wait to pick up her brushes.

Well, she wasn't alone in that. The contest had been good for us all. I stayed up longer than I should have last night, jotting down ideas for both the appeal and battle rounds. Judging by the bags under Chaz's eyes, our self-proclaimed rival had done much the same.

X

We hit the town again after lunch. As much as I wanted to train for my upcoming gym battle, overdoing it wasn't good either. Besides, my friends wouldn't be here much longer; they intended to move on shortly after seeing my battle so we wouldn't have many more chances to hang out.

We were looking for the gym so I wouldn't get lost when my match rolled around. The gym was located in the northeast district of the city, away from the hustle and bustle of the downtown area.

Whereas downtown contained the Devon Corp headquarters and other skyscrapers that really formed the concrete jungle, the northeast district was a little more suburban. There was a series of luxury apartments and condominiums, an urban park with a pond, and even a mall.

Of course, the trainer school, the one headed by Roxanne, was also only a few blocks away. That school had always been good, but had shot up the rankings to become one of Hoenn's best preparatory academies in the last few years, no doubt Roxanne's doing as its newest star teacher. She was seen as a bit of an oddball for wanting to remain an educator and gym leader, but she obviously made it work.

I felt myself being tugged along. Lisia had found one of the many buskers near the park. Most sold street food like ice cream and lemonade while a few played music, but her eyes were drawn towards a palm reading table.

"Aaron, Chaz, look, want to get our fortunes read?" she said enthusiastically.

"I don't see the point. These are just scams," Chaz replied. Still, given his crush had a grip on his sleeve, he went along meekly like a lamb to the slaughter.

"Just enjoy the encouragement, Chaz."

"Yes, dear."

"D-Dear?"

"Ah, I… That is…" his face went atomic. He clearly hasn't meant to say that. He looked to me like a drowning man in the middle of a storm. "Y-Your ribbon looks especially nice on you today!"

"M-My ribbon? Oh, thank you, Chaz."

"A-And Ali's like a perfectly fluffy hat!"

"He is, isn't he?"

And, like the asshole friend I was, I laughed. I cackled and wheezed until I tasted blood in my lungs. Chaz was so hilariously awkward. He may not have carried the conversation, but he certainly did enough to amuse me.

'My lord, please rescue your friend,' Artoria admonished.

'But then I would rob myself of entertainment,' I pointed out, quite reasonably in my opinion.

'Is human courtship always so awkward?'

'It can be. I wasn't much better my first time around. Quite a bit worse if I'm being honest."

'It's hard to imagine my lord being so… juvenile.'

'I was a kid once, too, Artoria. Besides, watching the two squirm for a bit isn't going to do any harm.'

Sure enough, Chaz had leaned back into his posh debonair act. His face was still burning but he tried to play it off by showering Lisia in compliments, from the sheen of Ali's feathers to the sparkle of her eyes. The longer she kept stammering "thank you"s, the more elaborate Chaz's compliments got, forming a hilarious cycle of social awkwardness, a socially awkward cyclone if you will.

To his credit, she didn't hate this. Her aura was a cocktail of emotions, chiefly embarrassment and shyness at being so directly addressed, but also a fair bit of flattery as well. It was a little like Artoria's own conflicted cocktail whenever I petted her in public: enjoyment, but mortification also. If nothing else, Chaz was clearly very good for her self-esteem.

Finally, I interrupted them by loudly slapping my wallet down onto the palm reader's table. She was a middle-aged woman in her forties, with rather prominent crow's feet.

"Hi, we'd like our fortunes read. It's fifteen credits per reading, right?" I asked, talking over my friends. That got Chaz to stop talking for a second, finally putting an end to the cyclone of silliness.

"Of course, dear. And what a wonderful kirlia you have. I'll need your dominant hand, please," she said kindly, eyes bright with mirth.

I held out my hand for her. For the sake of making conversation, I asked, "How does palm reading work exactly? You don't actually have psychic powers, do you?"

"There are more wonders in this world than your young mind can fathom," she said, completely dodging the question. She held my hand gently and began to humm as she looked over it. "Hmm, yes, you're quite the trainer, aren't you?"

"I'd like to think so. I'll be battling Roxanne for my third badge. I know that some people are already on their fifth, but I don't think I'm lagging behind too much…"

"Pish posh, you're doing great. Even without the Gift, I can tell by your kirlia that you're fretting over nothing. She looks very healthy."

"Actually, my kirlia is male," I said, completely fucking with her. "See the sword? Arthur wants to be a strong gallade like his dad one day."

"A-Ah, of course," she stumbled, before bulldozing through the mistake. "Let's see… The battle is coming up soon…"

"It is. What should I expect?"

"I see… Yes… You, young man, can expect victory. It will not be easy, but your kirlia shall crush through Roxanne's famed defenses. Yes, you show a lot of promise."

'This woman is a quack, my lord,' Artoria grumbled. 'And I do not appreciate being misgendered.'

'Sorry, sorry,' I apologized. 'And yes, she is indeed a quack. She's reading some basic cues in my body language to tell me what I want to hear.'

'Should we not expose her? All she's doing is dodging your questions.'

'She'll be back the next day. Is she really doing any harm?'

'No, I suppose not…'

I stepped away to let the others have a turn. Surprise, surprise, we all received positive fortunes. Lisia received some vague advice about romance and her "fated love" being closer than she knew. Chaz would win the next contest. He seemed more excited about Lisia's fortune than his own.

Having gotten to know both of them, that seemed rather unlikely. Lisia's "fated love" was the spotlight. If the girl had even the slightest interest in romance, not even her own emotions knew it. As for Chaz, he probably wouldn't win any contests so long as he kept traveling with Lisia. Perhaps I ought to convince him to go on a "manly journey of self-discovery" so he could grow more.

"That was a lot more normal than I expected," Lisia said as we walked away.

"What do you mean? You got a wonderful fortune," Chaz replied. "D-Do you think there's any truth to what she said?"

"I don't think so. If anything, Aaron's fortune sounds the most likely to be accurate but she was probably guessing."

"Y-You don't think I can win a ribbon?"

"I do, but we'll have to switch towns while Aaron's gym battle is right around the corner."

"That's true, I suppose. A lot could happen between now and the next contest."

"Exactly. Hey, Aaron, you're not actually nervous about Roxanne, are you?"

I laughed. "Not at all. It's true we're a little slower at gathering badges, but that's because I like to take my time, not because I'm nervous. She also believed me when I told her Artoria was male."

"You only said that to throw her off."

"Guilty. She's not a real psychic, just a fraud."

"Aww, I thought you could meet another psychic and you two would have this epic mind-battle or something."

"Wait, is that what you were doing? Showing off your psychic to another psychic? Am I your pokemon?"

"You? My pokemon? Of course not," Lisia gasped, hand on her heart as if she'd taken personal offense. "My pokemon have mastered a wide variety of moves. You know Taunt. At best."

"The sword-idiot also knows Cut probably," Chaz chimed in. "And he'll Bulk Up soon if he keeps training like that."

"Hehe, maybe. That's still not contest material though."

"You both suck," I chuckled. "Really, don't put any stock in stuff like that. Real psychics are rare. Real psychics with a talent for divination? That's a rarity even among pokemon, never mind humans."

"Huh, you're not mad?" Chaz asked. "I would have thought you'd be offended, you know, what with you being from Mossdeep."

"Not really, no. She's just making a bit of cash on the side. So long as she doesn't falsely advertise and say she's from Mossdeep Gym or sponsored by my family or something, then it's fine."

"Isn't she ruining the reputation of psychics though? If it were my father who caught someone selling inferior products, he'd be disappointed."

"Right, your family sells cosmetics. Well, I think this is a little different. There's an assumption that street vendors like her are entertainers first and foremost. I'd have been surprised if she really did have the Sight."

"I suppose. And that would change if she claimed to be from Mossdeep because then it's your gym's reputation directly that's being tarnished."

I nodded emphatically. Mother had dealt with fakes trying to cash in on her name before. It was one of the few things a normal person could do that was sure to invite her direct intervention.

"It's more than just our reputation that's important," I explained. "A gym trainer, or just a sponsored trainer, has certain responsibilities. For example, I could be drafted right now to assist the rangers or police in handling a crisis. Or, more likely since I don't have too many badges, I could be consulted on psychic powers even if I likely won't be called to battle.

"By claiming to be one of mom's students, what they'd really be saying is that they're a trusted expert on psychic powers and pokemon. Worse, that they're a League-recognized expert. Falsifying a sponsorship like that is a serious felony in the same way you can't pretend you're a police officer."

"Hold on, you only have one psychic pokemon. Can you really claim you're an expert?"

"Fair question, and yes. Keep in mind that I grew up around mom's team and have been studying the family library for years now. While I don't specialize in psychic pokemon, that's already far more exposure than most people will have in their lifetimes."

"Huh… I guess I've never been exposed to this kind of thing before. Contests are a little more straightforward in comparison. At least, we don't get called by police and stuff," he mused.

That was the crux of the prejudice against coordinators. Some people said coordinators weren't "real" trainers, that their moves were meant to look pretty rather than be effective. There was some truth in that statement, though many argued that this aesthetic display was just as good a proof of mastery as a move with pure power behind it.

The real criticism against coordinators was that the legal obligation to act in the defense of society was extremely murky where they were concerned. The League used badges to get a rough estimate of a trainer's skill so that when they were drafted, they could be drafted for the right level of task. Coordinators had no badges and little combat experience in general, so drafting them tended to be a nightmare.

When looked at through the lens that "A trainer's job is to protect humanity," a coordinator's purpose was… ambiguous at best. Because of this, expensive and extravagant contest halls attracted the same kind of criticism that sports stadiums did in my old life. They were huge resource-sinks for any municipality, with relatively little in the way of contribution to society.

"Yeah, loads of Uncle Wall's gym trainers also participate in contests. I've heard them talk about this sometimes too," Lisia said. We were mostly window shopping now, occasionally buying treats for our pokemon as we took a leisurely stroll. "They thought about using ribbons to measure a coordinator's ability like they do with badges, but that's not as helpful when some people stay in one city and just participate in the local contests several times."

"True, you can get quite far in the contest circuit without being an exceptional battler."

"Exactly, and that's the way it should be. I mean, having trainers who can go on missions and stuff is super important, but what's wrong with just wanting to make other people smile?"

"Nothing at all, Lisia, nothing at all."

X

The next day, two days after the contest, we headed over to Rustboro Gym for my battle. The gym itself was built using large, sandstone slabs, all the better to highlight her type specialty.

I doubted I'd have a hard time with Roxanne, obvious rock puns aside. She was a relatively new gym leader, and a bit of an oddball at that. Most new gym leaders tried to quickly establish themselves, usually with a "tough on crime" attitude or an unusually hard gym battle in which only a few of the truly strong trainers obtained badges.

Roxanne though, she was a teacher at heart. She didn't care about a "strong" reputation. Instead, she conducted each gym battle with the goal of using the recordings in her school as teaching aids later. She didn't try to win; she tried to teach. There was something incredibly noble about that in my opinion. She really was perfect to hold the first gym in the circuit.

That said, because of her leadership style, her first badge was considered to be something of a milk run. She intentionally left gaping vulnerabilities in her defenses that rookies could exploit. Even without a water or grass type, her geodude and nosepass could be outranged and chipped down, poisoned, or incapacitated in a number of other ways.

Even the trainer prep school I'd attended used some of her uploaded videos. She'd allow herself to be overwhelmed, only to end the video with a small, face-to-camera discussion, breaking down everything she did "wrong." In that sense, the true audience of her gym battles wasn't the challengers, but her beloved students.

I hadn't heard much about her third badge battles, but no news was a good thing in this case. It meant no one was complaining about a sudden difficulty hike. Unless she decided to make an exception for me for some reason, her team wouldn't be a problem.

We were greeted by a cheery, young man, maybe seventeen or eighteen, dressed in the gym's uniform. He sat behind the counter and gave us a beaming smile. "Hello and good morning! Welcome to Rustboro Gym. Are you here for a challenge, or to sign up for one of our courses?"

"Courses? What kind?" Lisia asked.

"We teach a number of courses for currently active trainers. Some are refreshers, like how to set up and maintain a campsite in the woods, while others are more advanced extensions of the trainer school curriculum, like nutrition. Naturally, many of our courses cater to rock types. Are you interested?"

"Ooh, I didn't know that. I don't have any rock types though."

"Your slugma will gain a rock type later," Chaz reminded her.

"True, but we were planning on leaving today or tomorrow…"

"That's no problem," Kurt, his nametag said. "We also offer online courses. Although, I admit I'm not sure how useful our class would be for a slugma. You might be better off going to Lavaridge for Leader Moore's expertise."

"That's okay, then. Besides, we're really here for Aaron," Lisia said, nudging me in the side. "He's here for his gym battle."

"Ah, great! You must be Roxanne's 9 AM. In that case, do you mind signing a waiver to allow the students at the trainer school to use your battle as a reference?"

I nodded. "Of course not, go right ahead. Aren't all gym battles available online?"

"They are, but we like to ask anyway," he said. Once I signed, he gestured towards the far door. "Great, right this way. If anyone would like to watch, please head to the bleachers.

"Ready?" I asked Artoria.

I felt Artoria's emotions flare in eager anticipation. 'Always, my lord. My only regret is that Magellan will not participate.'

'Can't be helped. He's still recovering, no matter what he thinks. Besides, he hasn't begun to train in earnest with us. He'll be in the next gym challenge for sure.'

'He'll be happy to hear that.'

'Then let's go break rocks.'

Author's Note

Short-ish intro chapter to Spoon's fifth arc.

Animal (Food) Fact: Honey has a shelf life measured in decades. This is because although it's a whole lot of sugar, it also has a low water content, high acidity (average pH of 4), and contains enzymes that produce hydrogen peroxide.

Bonus Fact: Not only is hydrogen peroxide antibacterial and the primary ingredient in lots of cleaning products, it's also a component of rocket fuel. Theoretically, a great chemist could isolate hydrogen peroxide out of honey and use it to make rocket fuel. A miniscule amount, but it's doable.

Thank you to everyone who paid for my groceries. I have a Pat-re-on and Kofi with dozens of chapters written across my various stories. If you'd like to read ahead, I recommend Pat-re-on. If you're interested in commissioning me, instructions are on Kofi.