Chapter 2: Dangerous Tactics

“Oh man, Maya, that
battle was sweet!” Ian yelled loud enough that his voice echoed throughout the
lounge. He jumped up on his feet, a bony fist raised above his head, his narrow
freckled face turned toward the fluorescent lights as if basking in the dim
lighting. His green eyes shining as if he just met his childhood hero. His dark
hair fell over his eyes and he had to brush it away. The whole scene made him
look like a dork, but I guessed he didn’t care—even though he should. “That prize money is as good as
ours!”

The buzzing of
conversation around us stopped. The view from our corner booth allowed me to
see everyone scattered around the lounge which was only a few people. Everyone
was looking at our table, most of them giving us strange or annoyed looks
before returning to their conversations. The ones who were trainers had a hand
on their belts where their Poké Balls were stored, but I could tell none of
them were strong enough to take me in a fair battle. Ian cleared his throat and
dropped into his seat like the kid in class who eagerly shouted the wrong
answer and wanted to hide under his desk. He tapped me on the arm and said in a
much quieter voice, “Hey, come on—one more win, and you’ll win the tournament.
You should be excited.”

I
snatched my arm away and scoffed. “Yeah, excited. The battle was over in less
than a minute because I was battling a second-rate Pokémon trainer who spent
more time working on his entrance and picking out theme music than actually
training. What do I have to be excited about?" I said, making the annoyance
clear in my voice. I leaned on the rusty table and sighed. “I destroyed some
poor bastard who never had a chance of beating me to begin with. That's not
something worth bragging about, Ian."

Ian's
cheeks flushed and he looked down at his laptop, causing his dark hair to cast
a shadow over his face and blocking his eyes from view. He hated keeping his
hair long, but it made him look older than he was. Ian was only two years
younger than me, making him only twenty-one years old, but his age didn't show
in his face. He had to carry his I.D. just to convince people he wasn't
seventeen. Appearances aside, it was his immaturity that made him appear young.
That he still hadn't realized it was proof.

“You're
taking this too seriously, Maya. No one's going to think less of you if you celebrate
some of your victories," Ian said.

“And
I don't give a damn what some random strangers think of me. I didn't come here to
win. Well…actually I did, but I wouldn't be here if we didn't need the money." I
took another look around the room. “Besides, we need to be more worried about
what'll happen if we're caught," I added under my breath. Technically, I wasn't
doing anything wrong. The problem was as a former Champion, it was…frowned on if
I entered anything below a high-stakes tournament. This one was pretty tame and
full of rookies. That there was no one who could actually challenge me wasn't
my fault, but I knew it would be a slaughter going in.

Ian
didn't respond. He kept his head down and typed away on his laptop. I noticed
his green eyes repeatedly flick in my direction as his thin fingers danced
across the laptop with the dexterity of an expert pianist. Normally when he was
absorbed in the laptop, there was nothing that could distract him. Whenever he
got like this it mean there was something he wanted to say, but was afraid of
my reaction if he said it. Ian wasn't the most subtle when it came to sending
signals. But that was okay, it just made him easier to read and talk to.

I
wasn't in the mood to play “who will talk first," so I looked around the room
again. Eyes were no longer watching us, but my stomach lurched anyway at the
sight of all the trainers whispering among themselves.

What the hell am I
doing here? my mind suddenly asked. Look at these rookies and losers. This whole
thing is a waste of time and energy. How many months were spent wasting away in
this pit? Do we really need the money that badly?

 I wanted to argue with my conscience, but it
had a point; this whole thing was a waste of time. There were better and faster
ways to make money that didn't leave me feeling empty inside. But it felt
better that way. I needed to feel that emptiness, that lack of reward It was
the only way I felt as if I was repenting for my lack of compassion as a
trainer over the last few years.

But is it enough? My
mind asked. Wasting away in these
unsanctioned tourneys feels like punishment, but with it comes a whole new set
of guilt. You're challenging weak trainers and destroying them to fatten your
pockets. How is doing that going help you become a better trainer?

“Look,
Maya," Ian said. I jumped slightly at the sudden sound of his voice, but he continued
as if it didn't happen. “I know you don't like easy wins, and I know you're not
a fan of places like this. But you said it yourself: We need the money. One way
or another it has to be this way."

I
sighed. He was only trying to cheer me up, but it wasn't working. And wallowing
in self-pity wasn't getting me anywhere either. Figuring a change in topics
would take my mind off things, I asked: “Are you remembering to study the
trainers and their battle tactics? It's important that you watch what these
people do so you don't make the same mistakes later down the line."

“Yes,
Mom," Ian said, smiling. “And I remembered to look both ways before crossing
the street, to brush twice a day, and to go to bed at a decent hour."

“If
that's the case, then why are you still up? It's way past your bedtime," I
said, smiling back.

“Someone
needs to keep an eye on you."

I
chuckled and went back to watching the room. For some reason I couldn't shake
the feeling we were being watched. Not much had changed. A few new people had
walked into the lobby and a few had left. But for the most part everyone seemed
to be wrapped up in their own little conversations. “But seriously, have you
been keeping an eye out? I don't know why, but I can't shake the feeling
someone's watching us."

“Yeah,
I have. So far no one stands out, and everything around here has been pretty
quiet. You wouldn't know it looking around, but security is pretty tight. I
guess they don't like taking chances with these underground tourneys either."

I
nodded in response, realizing at some point in our conversation, my hand had
gone to Dust's Poké Ball attached to the chain around my neck. Holding the ball
was comforting, and there was a good chance I would need to call on him at a
moment's notice. I felt vulnerable whenever he wasn't around. Dust had been
with me since before I even became a trainer. He knew me, understood me, and I
knew him. With a single touch, I could communicate all of my feelings to him.

I
tried to focus on the clearly rigged tournament. There was still one more
battle before I could collect the prize money, and the finals in any tournament
were always the most intense. Ian continued to tap away at the laptop as if
something possessed him. Unfortunately, I realized that coming up with a
strategy was a waste of time. Half the trainers I battled didn't even land a
single hit on my Pokémon before it was over. Thinking of that just made me feel
guilty again.

It
was probably better to keep talking about something to take my mind off things.
“What are you looking for, Ian?"

Ian
looked up from his laptop as if he was just realizing I'm talking to him. “Oh,
uh…Trying to see if Neil's here or if he's been by recently?"

I
frowned at my friend. “Don't bother—Neil wouldn't waste his time with these
nobodies. He never liked easy wins. Besides, once he noticed I was here, he
wouldn't stick around."

“Maya,
you haven't seen him in, like, how many years?" Ian responded gently, “There
could still be a chance he's here. People change."

“I
don't know how they do things where you're from, but usually when someone says:
'You're fucking dead to me', they don't want to be in the same room with you,"
I snapped. “So how's about you mind your own damn business and do something
useful?"

My
stomach knotted when Ian flinched at my remark. My hand curled even tighter
around Dust's Poké Ball. “Hey, Ian…"

Ian
looked up from his laptop.

Look, man, I wanna say
I'm sorry for snapping at you like that. It's just that…I have no idea why I'm
doing this. I'm supposed to be looking for Neil, but a part of me doesn't want
to find him. I never told you this, but the last time we spoke, it got pretty
nasty. I drove my friend away with my selfishness, and I don't think I'm ready
to deal with that again yet.

But
I didn't say any of those things. Somewhere along the path from my brain to my
mouth, the words got lost and I was left sitting there with a stupefied look on
my face. I didn't hate Ian, but I felt like he had brought it on himself. He
knew Neil was a touchy subject, yet he brought it up anyway. He could've made
up something, anything, that was better
than bringing up my past.

We
sat there staring at each for what felt like the longest time. The
conversations around us sounded distant as if everyone lowered their voices to
listen in without it seeming obvious although they likely couldn't care less. Ian
lightly tapped on the laptop, his face showing he was unsure whether or not to
break the silence first. I willed my mouth to move, to say something to break
the tension. But in order to apologize, I needed to explain why I snapped at
him so suddenly, and to do that, I had to tell him in detail about the things I
did.

And
that was something my friends shouldn't know about. Ian was a friend, but I
couldn't open up to him, not yet. We met too late. He didn't know the old me,
or the parts I wanted to bury in the darkest parts of my mind.

 “Never mind. I'm
gonna go take a walk," I said as I left the lobby. I kept my eyes trained on
the doorway and didn't bother to check if anyone watched me leave.

Once
out in the dingy, graffiti-lined hallway, it felt like I could breathe again. I
pulled out a Poké Ball from my belt and tapped the button in its center,
opening the ball and releasing my Houndoom, the most badass looking Pokémon in
the world, into the semi-empty hallway. The few people standing by stared
incredulously at the black-furred canine Pokémon. The combination of black and
orange fur, the pair of curved horns, and the small skull-shaped bone in his
chest almost resembling a necklace made him look like something that would be
guarding the gates to a fantasy demon realm. The menacing air about him only
supported that theory. As the onlookers stared at the Houndoom, they did it
from a safe distance. Dorian shook before standing up to his full height, his
scared, bone-white horns almost grazing my chin. He looked up at me, his red eyes
showing more annoyance than concern. Not that I expected anything less from
him. Half the time he didn't like being bothered.

“I
just wanted some company while I get some air," I explained. “I figured since
you're not gonna see any action tonight, I'd give you a chance to stretch your
legs."

Dorian
gave me a “yeah, right" look and followed me through the hallway. I knew he
could see right through me. I didn't understand Pokémon, but Dorian was the
blunt one in my party. Even without speaking directly, there were other ways we
could communicate, and Dorian wouldn't worry about sparing my feelings—or
anyone's actually. We walked in silence for several minutes. Every time we
reached the end of the hallway, we would turn around and walk back the way we
came. I kept my hands buried deep in my pockets, playing with pocket lint to
keep my fingers busy. Every time I tried to open my mouth and say something
that familiar, anxious feeling would build in my gut and I shut up. Dorian walked
alongside me like a bodyguard, looking at everything we passed as if his head
was connected to a gyro ball. The few people we pass either stared or whispered,
but for the most part we were left alone. Whether it was because Dorian often
stared at them like he was saying, “Come near us and die", or were afraid of my
reputation was unclear. Only one man was brave enough to approach and asked me
where I found my Pokémon. I shrugged and told him I found him abandoned at a
Day-Care. It wasn't a lie, but the man had a look on his face as if he didn't
like my answer. One quick growl from Dorian was enough to keep the man from
pursuing it further. Everyone else made a point of keeping their distance after
that.

After
about our third pass through the hallway, Dorian suddenly grumbled and nudged
me in the back with his horns.

 “What?" I said.

He
stared at me with the same annoyed expression he had before almost as if to
say: “You let me out for a reason, so
spill it."

I
slumped my shoulders and sighed. The feeling of anxiety began to build again,
so I stared at my toes. It was like having an awkward conversation with my dad.
The only difference was I knew Dorian cared even if he pretended otherwise. “Ian
said something that struck a nerve and I let out my frustration on him—I know I
shouldn't have, but…It's just the last battle was an easy win—again. I knew it
was gonna be that way tonight, but I feel like a bully. All my life I was told
never to challenge an opponent I know has no chance of winning, but I'm doing
it anyway for what? Because it's easy to make a bunch of money this way, that's
what. On top of that, I'm still having anxiety before a battle. Before all
this, I was always ready and I never once doubted myself. I gave every battle
everything I had…and now…now I can't even take on a bunch of amateurs without
questioning every little detail. Do you think turning my back on it all was the
right thing to do?"

Dorian
glanced up, but nothing in his face said that he was even listening to me. Instead
he was staring at something behind me. I spun around to see a large flat-screen
hanging on the wall, surrounded by several people. The screen showed the highlights
of the latest battle in the arena.

Standing
on the one side of the arena was a tall blonde woman, even taller than the tattooed
trainer I battled earlier. The woman felt somehow familiar although I was
certain I had never seen her before in my life. Her blonde hair was cut
shoulder-length like mine and she wore in a long red cardigan over a tank and
black yellow-striped pants, making her resemble a Talonflame. Oddly, though,
her Pokémon appeared to be a Mismagius whose purple veil-like body didn't match
its trainer's outfit in the slightest.

The
blond woman's opponent was also a woman although her yellow camisole top and
slacks didn't look like any Pokémon I knew. The other woman's Pokémon was blue-
and black-furred Pokémon known as a Luxray.

The
blond trainer pointed at her opponent's Luxray and shouted something I couldn't
hear because there's no volume on the flat-screen. Her Mismagius formed a large
purple sphere in front of it. The Luxray charged in to stop the attack, but the
ghost-type launched its Shadow Ball at the last second, scoring a direct hit on
the feline Pokémon. The Luxray fell to the ground and didn't get up again. Several
people standing in the hall groaned loudly at the outcome of the battle. A few
even threw small temper tantrums, throwing their phones on the ground or
kicking at whatever garbage was nearby while complaining loudly about how much
money they just lost. It wasn't uncommon for people to put down bets on the
trainers at these Under tournaments since gambling in League tourneys was
illegal. It was one of the reasons why Under tournaments weren't officially recognized
by the Pokémon League although the tourneys were still legal.

“Well,
well, it would seem death stalks these halls," said a man's voice.

I
spun around to see a man leaning against the nearby wall directly across from
the flat-screen. The hood of his hunter green jacket covered most of his face. His
clothes, while clean, were wrinkled and worn. The way he leaned against the
wall was a lie. Over the years, I had learned to identify powerful trainers by
the way they carried themselves. No matter how goofy, or crazy, or uncaring a
person acted it was their presence that gave them away. This man was leaning
against the wall as if it were a leisure afternoon: shoulders slumped, head
slightly bowed, arms crossed, and not a single tight muscle in what part of his
face I could see. But he gave off some serious vibes that he was not someone to
fuck with. He looked down at a notepad in his hand, ignoring me staring right
at him. The cover of the notepad was as beat up and worn as his clothes. On the
cover of the book was a circle inside of another circle. The outer circle was
split into several sections, each one a different color. The inner circle was
split into purple, blue, and pink sections. The symbol almost seemed to shimmer
under the fluorescent lights. I felt like I had seen that symbol somewhere
before.

What the–? When did
you get there? “Excuse me?" I asked.

Dorian
jumped between us, growling at the mysterious man, his black fur standing on
end. I noticed the people staring at the flat-screen were starting to take
notice of what was happening. Some of them were already making good on their
escape while the others stared wide-eyed. It was an unsanctioned tournament,
but fighting in the halls was still grounds for disqualification. We couldn't
risk getting kicked out now that we were one battle away from winning. I patted
Dorian on the head. He quieted down, but didn't take his eyes off the man or
relax his stance.

The
man didn't look up from his notepad and continued to speak in a calm voice, “Did
you know in some parts of the world Houndoom are believed to have been created
by the Grim Reaper to sniff out the dead and the dying? Its howl is considered
to be a sign that someone has died or is near death. They consider it an ill
omen to have one in your party. It seems fitting that someone like you would
keep a Pokémon like that by your side."

My
fists clenched at the man's comment. You
don't know the first thing about me.Dorian took a step towards the man,
growling louder. Thin streams of smoke begin to flow from the corners of his
muzzle.

            I
put a hand on Dorian's back, stopping his advance. “What the hell is that
supposed to mean?" I asked threateningly.

“Forgive
me if I've offended you," the man said, flicking through the pages of his
notepad which he still refused to
look up from. “I was just making an observation. It's just you remind me of
another trainer. Like you, she traveled with a harbinger of death."

I
raised a brow at the man. This guy
watches too many dramas. “I don't know what your game is, but you don't
know a damn thing about me. C'mon, Dorian." I tapped my leg and walked away
from the man. Dorian fell silent and followed me.

“I
actually know more about you than you think, Miss Martin," the man called after
us.

I
froze. My heart jogged as I turned on the man. Dorian's growls filled the hall
again. I looked back to the crowd. Now more of the bystanders were heading for
the nearest exit. I could feel the heat emanating from my Pokémon as I asked, “How
do you know my name?" It was a stupid question; the announcer had been shouting
my name all night. Something about the way the man said it bothered me. It was
like he knew who I was before coming here.

The
man continued to calmly flip through the pages of his notebook. “You were once
a Champion of the Pokémon League; your name and face are quite easy to find. As
for my 'game', I don't have one. My only wish is to pass something along to
you: A warning."

I
raised a brow at the man. The deep, menacing rumble of Dorian's growling
continued to echo through the hall. It's
a scam, my inner monologue warned, I'm
telling you, he's baiting you. Don't fall for it. “Warn me about what?" I
asked slowly.

He
closed his notebook with a loud snap
and stood up to his full height, revealing himself to be a full head taller
than me. But even with the height difference, I couldn't see his face under the
hood because of the distance between us. The best I could make out was a
well-trimmed goatee dressing a square jaw. “You carry with you a forbidden
power. You must be careful in using that power for mishandling it could very
well destroy you and all you have fought so desperately to achieve."

I
scoffed at the man and folded my arms across my chest. This guy definitely watches too many
dramas. “Seriously? I will 'destroy all I
fought so desperately to achieve?' You think that's supposed to scare me? And
what is this so-called 'forbidden power?' Last I checked there are no banned
Pokémon or banned moves."

 “In order for you to understand, I must tell
you a story, but now is not the time," the man replied calmly, “Just know that
there is one in your party who possesses abilities which exceed the
capabilities of your imagination. One day you will decide whether or not to
call on that power, and in doing so, determine the fate of many Pokémon not
just in this region, but possibly the entire world."

            “Are
you just not listening or do you get off on creeping around and throwing random
lines at people?" I said smartly. “This mysterious stranger routine is gettin' real
old. Either answer my question or—"

            The man began laughing. “I can see
why you are alone; you truly are childish and naïve. It's a shame that this
power chose you of all people."

            I started toward the man, my fists
clenched tightly at my sides. I didn't care who the fuck he thought he was. One
way or another, I was gonna smack that smug grin off his fat face. Dorian was
right at my side ready to jump in. The man stood there, still laughing. I was
just within striking range when I heard a voice.

“Maya?"

I
turned to see Ian looking at me confused. His eyes flicked nervously back and
forth between me and the mysterious stranger. “They're calling you for the
final match. What's going on?"

I
turned back to the man, but he was already halfway to the nearest exit. “Remember
my warning, Miss Martin," the man said without looking back. “Power destroys
the weak-bodied, and consumes the weak-minded. I pray you do not suffer the
same fate countless others before you have. I wish you luck in your final match."

Ian
walked up looking just as confused as I felt. “What the hell was that about?"

I
shrugged and turned away. “No idea. Just some weirdo who has too much time on
his hands. He's probably trying to throw me off before the final match. C'mon.
Let's get this over with so we can go home and get some sleep."

****

“ARE
YOU READY, FOLKS? OUR TOURNAMENT FINALISTS ARE ABOUT TO HAVE THEIR FINAL CLASH
TO DETERMINE WHO WILL BE THE UNDER'S STRONGEST! IN ONE CORNER WE HAVE MAYA
MARTIN—THE MOST POWERFUL TRAINER WE'VE EVER SET EYES ON!"

The
crowd cheered and stomped at the announcer's voice. I stood at my place on the
battlefield and flicked Sunny's Poké Ball into the air. My Volcarona shot out
of the Poké Ball, her six wings scattering small scales into the air as she
flew down beside me. Several spotlights shone on her moth-like body, the lights
making her wings and horns glitter and drawing exclamations from the crowd.

“WHOA,
A VOLCARONA! YOU DON'T SEE RARE POKÉMON LIKE THAT EVERYDAY! LET'S HOPE OUR
OTHER CONTENDER HAS THE SKILL TO TAKE IT ON! GIVE IT UP FOR TAYLOR BIGGS!"

The
blonde trainer I saw on the monitor walked out onto the battlefield. She
carried herself like someone who was used to being the center of attention. In
person she looked more like a model than a Pokémon trainer. She looked at me
and smiled. Even with the distance between us, I could feel an air of
confidence coming from her. In some ways, she reminded me of Sinnoh's Champion,
Cynthia. She smiled and waved to crowd before tossing a Poké Ball into the air.
The ball busted open revealing a bright orange and grey bird Pokémon similar to
her outfit. The fire-and-flying-type circled over its trainer's head,
screeching loud enough to be heard over the crowd. It landed in front of its
trainer, and turned its hawk-like gaze on Sunny. It was the biggest Talonflame
I had seen, but it was still small compared to its trainer, barely standing
higher than her waist.

Aaaand there's her
Talonflame, dammit. This is gonna be an uphill battle. I seriously wish I
didn't have to pick out my Pokémon before this started. That Pokémon is
resistant to nearly all of Sunny's moves, and she's at type disadvantage. In
order to win this I need to come up with a strategy fast. Losing is NOT an option tonight.

You know full well
Sunny could handle that thing if she were at full strength. My
mind replied. It's your own fault for
using fewer Pokémon than required.

“Now's
not the time for regrets," I mumbled.

“LET
THE MATCH BEGIN!"

Taylor
gave her order first. “Scorch, use Brave Bird!"

“Sunny,
counter it with Flamethrower!"

Taylor's
Talonflame flew close to the ground, streaking towards Sunny at blinding speed.
Sunny shot a cone-shaped stream of fire at the bird Pokémon, but it swept to
the side, dodging the attack and still shooting for my Volcarona unhindered.

Damn, that thing is
fast. I've gotta slow it down if I'm to have any hope at winning this. “Sunny,
stop it with String Shot!"

This
time, a thin stream of white fluid shot from Sunny's mouth instead. Scorch was
closer than before, and couldn't get out of the way in time. The String Shot
hits home and covered most of the bird Pokémon's face and wings, forcing it to
the floor in a small cloud of dust. A cacophony of cheers and boos emanated
from the crowd.

“EXCELLENT
STRING SHOT BY MAYA'S VOLCARONA! JUST GOES TO SHOW ANY ATTACK CAN BE HELPFUL AT
JUST THE RIGHT MOMENT!"

“Now
use Quiver Dance while it's down!"

“Oh,
no you don't," Taylor cried, “Scorch, burn off the String Shot with Flare Blitz
and hit it with Fire Blast!"

Sunny
began spinning and flapping her wings in an elegant dance as Scorch's body
burst into an aura flame. Shortly after, a fire ball shot across the field
straight for Sunny. Without being told, Sunny spun laterally, dodging the
attack and continued spinning and dancing.

“Keep
up the pressure!" Taylor yelled, “Get above it and keep hitting it Fire Blast!"

Scorch
took to air and launched repeated fire attacks. Despite its stubby beak, the
fireballs it fired were half the size of Sunny's body. Sunny flipped and spun,
dodging the Fire Blasts. A few of the blasts grazed her, knocking scales from
her wings, but she remained airborne and continued dancing. The multiple explosions
started to kick up clouds of smoke making it hard to see either Pokémon.

That's right, girl.
Let them think they have the upper hand while you build your strength.
Eventually she's going to charge in and that's when we'll finish it.

Once
the smoke completely covered Sunny, Taylor yelled, “That's it. Now that it's
blinded, hit it with Arial Ace!"

“Quick,
use Fiery Dance!" I shouted.

Scorch
zoomed into the dust cloud. A bright glow appeared in the middle of the smoke
screen. Not long after, I heard a pair of pained cries just before both Pokémon
flew out the smoke in opposite directions. Scorch recovered first and flew
straight for Sunny again. Sunny managed to stop herself, but she showed no
signs of even acknowledging the Talonflame zooming toward her.

I
began to feel tightness in my chest and a smile began to creep across my face.

What the fuck are you
smiling about?! You're plan just failed. Now is not the time to be enjoying a
heated battle!

“LOOKS
LIKE TAYLOR'S IMPROVISED SMOKESCREEN IS DOING ITS JOB OF KEEPING MAYA FROM
GIVING ORDERS. IS THE BATTLE OVER ALREADY?" the announcer cried.

“Sunny,
get out of there!"

“Stay
on her, Scorch!"

Sunny
flew all over the battlefield, trying to lose her tail, but the distance
between her and Scorch continued to get smaller with each second. Even with the
power boost from Quiver Dance, the exhaustion was catching up with her, and Talonflame
were known for their ridiculous speed. Every now and again, Scorch shot another
fire ball from its beak and Sunny barely managed to dodge it and the follow-up
wing attack.

Come on, Maya, think.
What can you do? Sunny only has one move that will work on a Talonflame, but
she needs distance to make it land. Also, I can't guarantee I can knock him out
in one shot, even after using Quiver Dance. I could slow him down with String Shot,
but I already used that move; Taylor won't fall for it again unless I catch her
off-guard. THAT move is my only
option, but it's too dangerous.

 “Alright, Scorch, we got her right where we
need her!" Taylor yelled triumphantly, “Corner her with Fire Blast!"

Another
fire ball flew into Sunny's her flight path, forcing her to stop in order to
avoid it.

“Now
finish it with Brave Bird!"

Scorch
flew in with another Brave Bird. Sunny soared upward into the corner barely
dodging the attack. Scorch quickly banked around and cut off Sunny's escape.
The tightness in my chest worsened, but the smile only widened.

Do it. It's the only
card you have left to play.

But I can't.
Technically it's forbidden.

“IT
LOOKS LIKE IT'S OVER FOLKS! MAYA'S VOLCARONA HAS NOWHERE TO RUN!"

Dammit, which is more
important? My inner-voice asked. Following your self-imposed rules or keeping
alive the only reason you're wasting your time in this Rattata hole?

Yeah, and what happens
if I set the roof on fire? I asked myself. What if Sunny uses too much force and she
breaks Scorch's neck?

“That's
it Scorch, now end it with one final Brave Bird!"

The
Talonflame screeched and looped through the air before shooting straight for
Sunny.

There's too much
riding on this battle. I can't lose this…I won't lose this. “Sunny,
move!"

Folding
her wings, Sunny fell toward the ground. Taylor's Talonflame shot over her and barely
managed to stop itself from flying into the wall.

“Wrap
it up with String Shot!"

A
thin stream of white fluid shot out of Sunny's mouth as she flew in circles
around her opponent, wrapping it in a cocoon.

“I'm
not falling for that trick twice," Taylor said. “Scorch break out with Flare
Blitz!"

I
clenched my fists and held them tightly at my sides. This isn't the same trick. And it doesn't matter what you do anyway.
You've already lost. Reality just hasn't sunk in yet. “Sunny, slam it into
the wall!"

Sunny
spun with the string still attached, swinging the now burning cocoon in a wide
arc before slamming it into the wall like a flaming wrecking ball. The Flare
Blitz caused a huge explosion clouding our Pokémon in a cloud of smoke. Scorch
hurtled out of the smoke towards the ground in a daze.

“WHOA!
THAT WAS DEFINETLY A NEW WAY TO USE STRING SHOT! IT JUST GOES TO SHOW THAT ANY
ATTACK CAN BE USEFUL IN THE RIGHT SITUATION!"

“Come
on, Scorch, snap out of it! Use Flamethrower!"

I swore I would never
do this again, but this is my only opening and I must end this in one fell
swoop. “Sunny, hit him again!"

Sunny
shot Scorch with another String Shot and swung him through the air. Scorch
fired a stream of fire in Sunny's direction, but being swung around threw off
his aim and the attack missed her entirely. Sunny swung Scorch around and slammed
him into the wall with bone-jarring force.

“Again,
Sunny." The words left a bad taste in my mouth.

Sunny
swung Scorch around before slamming him into the wall again. The crowd cheered
and stamped.

            “MAYA IS KEEPING UP THE PRESSURE IN
MOST PRODUCTIVE USE OF STRING SHOT I HAVE EVER SEEN!"

            Yeah,
you bastards just loving this, aren't you? You don't even care how brutal the
attack is, you just want your fill of blood. That's one thing this place has in
common with the League I thought darkly. Scorch struggled to stand and get
his bearings after being thrown around. I gave Sunny her next order: “Use
Hurricane!"

Flapping
her six wings furiously, Sunny whipped the Talonflame up into a vicious wind
storm. Scorch flapped its wings to right itself and it fired streams of fire
from its beak, but it couldn't stop itself from being tossed around like a toy.
Taylor's jaw dropped. It was obvious she didn't see it coming and had no way of
countering it. The battle was as good as won.

Not yet. I need to
make one final move to make sure there are no nasty surprises. I
looked down at my feet to hide the involuntary smile on my face. My stomach
knotted as I gave Sunny her final command: “Sunny, use Flamethrower."

I
felt the intense heat of Sunny's Flamethrower combining with the Hurricane,
igniting the scattered scales around the battlefield and the ones caught up in
her Hurricane attack, lighting up the arena. The crowd fell silent except for a
few scattered exclamations. The cries of the Talonflame fill the stadium. I
didn't look up—couldn't actually. It was a combo I had used on several
occasions; I knew what it looked like. Right now, there was a massive column of
fire in the middle of the stadium. The resulting firestorm did more damage than
any of Sunny's fire-type attacks could do alone. And somewhere in the middle of
that vicious firestorm was someone's Pokémon.

Finally,
the attack ended. The bright glow of the flames faded making me shiver in the
absence of its heat. I looked up just in time to see Scorch suspended in
mid-air before gravity pulled it back to the ground. It hit the ground with a sickening
thud that almost made me vomit on the
spot. Scorch made no attempt to get back up.

Taylor
rushed over to her Pokémon as a murmur moves through the crowd. I bit my lip
and looked up to see Sunny hovering over her defeated opponent looking down at
the two worriedly.

 “THAT, FOLKS, IS HOW YOU END A POKÉMON BATTLE!
I'VE NEVER SEEN SUCH AN AMAZING COMBO! THE WINNER AND UNDER CHAMPION IS MAYA!"

The
crowd erupted once again. Taylor recalled her Pokémon and took off running,
disappearing behind the doors leading to trainer's waiting area. Sunny flew
over to me, her solemn cry barely audible over the loud cheers.

“You
did good Sunny," I said patting the side of her head.

Sunny's
head drooped in response.

“Yeah.
I know. I don't like winning that way either, especially after I promised to
stop using those tactics. But losing wasn't an option tonight."

You say you don't use
those tactics anymore, but you noticed it didn't you? Back when Sunny was
dodging attacks with Quiver Dance. She was letting those Fire Blasts clip her
so she could scatter scales on the field. She had already prepped the field for
you without even being told. I told you were too naïve to know any better.

I
pushed the dark thoughts out of my head as I pulled out Sunny's Poké Ball and
recalled her before turning away. The air felt heavy as I walk off the
battlefield and the screams of Taylor's Talonflame rang loudly in my ears.

            By the time I got to the hallways, a
large crowd had formed. The tournament was over so no one was bothering to
stick around. They didn't hold a formal awards ceremony like they did at the
League, and for that I was grateful. It meant I didn't have to stand there
while they showered me with praise I didn't deserve. Everyone was too absorbed
in their own reminiscing to notice I had joined them. I moved with the flowing
sea of people, letting the current drive me until I could break away to the
nurse's station. I needed to have my Pokémon looked at to make sure they weren't
too tired to handle the trip home.

Ian
appeared at my side as if he teleported. “Whoa! Maya, I never knew Sunny could
do something like that! That flaming-pillar-combo was awesome!"

            I clenched my fists at my sides and
refused to look at him as I continued down the hall. “It wasn't 'awesome',
Ian," I said through clenched teeth. “Listen, I need to get Sunny looked at
before I head back. Go on back to The Beacon without me."

I
couldn't see Ian, but I heard his footsteps stop even with the large sea of
people walking and talking around us. “Oh…yeah, sure." It was clear in his
voice that he realized he had crossed the line. But whether he knew if I was
really angry at myself, I didn't know. “You're probably tired and you're
worried about Sunny—"

I
didn't hear the rest of his sentence. Whatever else he had to say was drowned
out by the other trainers cheering and talking about how they will never forget
tonight's battles.

            Personally, I wanted to bury the
memory of tonight somewhere I would never be able to reach it.