Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoy. If you REALLY like it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.
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"Hmm, more low-key than I'd have thought it would be," I mused to Hercules, looking up at the building before us, "you know, being a former Gym and all. But then again, this might not be the original place."
A couple of days after the… unfortunate failure of the Prism Scale, I was once again out and about after having spent a day sulking about our misfortune. But there was no time for that, and so, I dragged myself out of bed and decided to cheer myself up with one of my favorite activities.
Punching.
That desire had naturally led me to where I was, standing outside the Fighting Dojo of Saffron, looking up at the traditional structure with my Electabuzz at my side and Espeon around my neck.
And Honedge in my shadow, but that was such a normal state of affairs that I barely registered it unless he stirred.
The Saffron Fighting Dojo was a simple yet clearly old building, with a tiled gabled roof, a low, deep porch that let the roof overhang, wooden paneling, and two big sliding doors that stood wide open to welcome visitors.
Though looking up and down the street, I was the only one who even bothered looking at it. Everyone else walked by without even a glance.
Guess that's what you got for being a former Gym – although, the Dojo might not agree with the 'former' part. After all, dead center over the entry was an old wooden sign with the word 'Gym' carved deeply into it. The lumber was worn and aged, smudges of color dotting the edges after various vandalisms, yet for all that, I would bet that it had been polished that morning.
Despite my previous words, I didn't believe them. The Dojo looked like it had been in use for a very long time.
Sharing a look with Hercules, we walked up the stairs and peeked in through the doorway. Seeing a large pile of shoes on a mat, I took my own off as my Electric-Type did his best to wipe his feet. I couldn't see a doorbell or anything else to announce myself, so I knocked on the side of the wooden panel while stepping inside.
"Uh, hello? I-"
"""""HI-YAH!"""""
The interior of the Dojo had the same vibe as the exterior, though it was deceptively larger than it had seemed, as big as a decent-sized warehouse. Wooden floors, filled with dents and dark stains, were thinly covered by straw mats. Large stumps, with protruding sticks, side-by-side with punching bags and weights of all sizes and shapes. The walls were bare, except for various weapons that seemed more decorative rather than functional, and the right wall, which was entirely taken up by a blackboard filled with writing and diagrams.
"""""HI-YAH!"""""
And the most attention-grabbing by far was the center of the large room. Ringed off by frayed ropes was a square of thicker, heavy-duty mats that might actually soften a fall by a smidge. And in the center of that square, there were around twenty people of various ages – each standing with one hand pulled back and the other extended. Sweat dripped down their faces and soaked into their white gis, flying off their fists in a light spray as they punched forwards with the other hand while retreating the first.
"""""HI-YAH!!"""""
The shout echoed off the sparsely decorated walls, bouncing around the room. Clearly, they hadn't seen me, and I waffled a little, feeling bad about interrupting their training. Mew knew I'd be pissed if they did the same to me.
"""""HI-YAH!"""""
But I wasn't that nice, so it didn't take long before I got bored and interrupted anyway. If they wanted to be left alone, they should've closed the door.
"Hey!"
"""""HI-YAH!!"""""
"Oi, fighting guys!"
"""""HI-YAH!!"""""
"HEEEEY!"
"""""HI-Huh?"""""
Registering my presence mid movement, the training martial artists turned their heads as one and lost track of where their limbs were going. I winced as more than one got punched in the back of the head, or if they were really unlucky, right in the temple as they turned. Several fights almost broke out as the injured parties took offense, and a couple dropped to the floor limply to the vocal dismay of their fellows.
"Enough!"
A loud voice cut through the chaos, and the group quickly obeyed, stopping the fighting and yanking their unconscious members to their feet and slapping them until they woke. In less than ten seconds, all 20~ of them were lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, facing me, while the large man who had commanded them stood in front.
Fairly tall, the man stood with thick arms crossed over his equally wide chest, large muscles visible through the ripped sleeves of his white gi – like the ones behind him except for the black belt wrapped around his waist. Short black hair was held back by a red bandana, keeping it out of his dark eyes and thick eyebrows.
I cocked my head, reminded of a smaller Bruno. They didn't look that much alike, not enough that I'd clock them as relatives, but maybe distant cousins? A branch of the Pebble Clan or something?
The obvious leader smiled broadly at me in a very un-Bruno way, and the similarities were gone, especially when he opened his mouth and was all but screaming at me in a surprisingly high-pitched voice.
"Welcome, young one! Sorry about that, we can get really into it when training. I am Karate Master Koichi, leader of the Saffron Fighting Dojo!" He smashed one fist into an open palm and bowed at the waist, the rest of the martial artists mimicking him while they spoke as one.
"""""""WELCOME!"""""""
I raised a hand in response, a little put off by the enthusiasm. "Hi, I'm Peri. I'm here to fight you guys? Or make an appointment, at least?" It came out more as a question than anything else, as I still couldn't see anything that looked like a reception area, or even someone with a clipboard – unless the blackboard counted.
"An appointment!? Hahahaha!" Koichi laughed loudly, his acolytes joining him sycophantically. "No, no need for that kind of formality here, young one. Not any longer, anyway. If there has been one benefit to losing our status as an official Gym, it has been getting rid of all the bureaucracy!" He laughed again, but it was thin and unconvincing, especially with the dark looks of the people behind him.
Very much a sore spot, as expected. I didn't even bring it up; that was all him.
"But a challenge! How glorious! We don't get a lot of those these days, after those damn bootlickers-!" His eyes landed on Espeon wrapped around my neck, and his enthusiasm faded, his grin thinning and his eyes going dead. "I see."
"Huh?" I blinked at the sudden shift until I followed his gaze to the feline around my neck. "Oh! No, I'm not using her for the battle! She just doesn't like her PokéBall. I'll be using Herc here," I jutted a finger at the Electabuzz, who copied Koichi's bow.
The Karate Master stared at me for a long minute before the tension left him. "I see," he said again, much closer to his previous enthusiasm, "in that case, you have my apologies!" He clasped his hands together again and bowed, the rest following.
""""""SORRY!""""""
"Uh, that's okay," I responded. I hadn't walked into a cult or something, right?
"Most of our challengers these days come because they've heard of our… battle with the Psychic Gym." Koichi worked his jaw angrily at the mention. "They think that a single Psychic-Type will make a mockery of our Dojo, and I feared you'd come for the same."
"It's fine," I waved it off, "I really am here to fight, though. Hercules is pretty good at it, and we want to see how he stacks up."
"We can certainly provide that. However…"
Koichi looked me up and down, lingering on my exposed arms in the sleeveless shirt I'd put on, stroking his short beard. "Hmm… usually I wouldn't offer this challenge to someone so young, but you look like you at least know the basics. Tell me, young Kricketune, who taught you?"
"A Machamp, mostly," I hesitated, but shrugged. What harm could it really do? "I also spent some time with Bruno, you know, the Elite Four Member?" I couldn't help sounding a little smug about that.
Koichi gaped at me, the lower-ranked members gasping out loud at the name before the 'Master' shook it off. "Ah, young Bruno, eh!?" He laughed despite being a decade older than Bruno. Koichi didn't look a day over 40. "It's good to hear that he's decided to pass on his skills! I encouraged him to do so the last time he was here, after I taught him a couple of things, hahahahaha!"
I looked at him with disbelief. There was no way the guy taught Bruno anything other than his own weak spots.
His students, on the other hand, lapped it up.
"Wow, you're the best, Master Koichi!"
"Yeah, the Master is on the same level as Master Bruno!"
"I bet he could be in the Elite Four if he wanted to, as well!"
"Now, now, settle down!" Koichi coughed, looking a little embarrassed at the comments. "As I was saying. Here at the Dojo, we offer two challenges! The first," he held up a finger meaningfully, "is the standard Trainer challenge! You will face three of our disciples, in increasing order of strength, in one-on-one battle! Should you succeed, you will get the honor of facing the Master of the Dojo! Me!" He pointed to himself with a thumb and a big grin, like there was any doubt.
"And what's the second challenge?" I asked, curious.
"The second challenge!" He boomed, puffing his chest up. "It is a test of both Pokémon and Trainer, in the ancient tradition! A dual battle, two-on-two, one Pokémon, one human!"
"We believe in the old ways!" The Karate Master thumped his chest with pride. "In the duty of the Trainer, to fight side-by-side with our brothers and sisters! Trainers of today hide and cower behind their teams, but not us! So what do you say, child!? Do you have the courage to face us yourself!?"
"Sure."
Koichi stumbled over his words a bit at my casualness.
"Confidence is important, young Peri," he said with a more subdued voice, a frown forming in his face, "but you should take this seriously. Being acquainted with Master Bruno is all well and good, but my disciples have been honing their bodies for years. You are almost certain to lose this, and I would hate to see you injured."
"Fair," I conceded. That was decent advice in general. "But I'm pretty sure I'm good."
"Hmm," Koichi didn't look convinced, but let it go. "Are you participating in this year's Gym circuit?" I confirmed that I was. "How many Badges have you gathered?"
"Four."
"Four!" That seemed to impress him. "Well done for one so young! In that case… Evan, why don't you do the honor of being young Peri's first match?"
"YOSH!" A blond-haired teen, three or four years older than me, pumped his fist in the air while the rest cleared the ring, and Koichi waved me up. Stepping into the square, I immediately noticed how small it was. Three-ish times the size of a boxing ring, sure, but for a Pokémon battle, that wasn't a lot.
"Evan here joined us a couple of years ago," Koichi introduced. "He and his Tyrogue are somewhere around the third Badge level, so a little under you. That should make up for his greater experience."
I exchanged another skeptical glance with Hercules. Not only did that not sound even close to a challenge, but he also revealed what Evan would be using."Uhhh, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Now, now," Koichi insisted with a slightly condescending tone of voice that had me bristling. I didn't think he meant anything by it, but it still rubbed me wrong. "There's nothing to be nervous about. Only Pokémon-on-Pokémon fighting is allowed, and human-on-human."
Oh. He thought I was worried about getting hurt.
Cute.
"I know I said I'd be using Herc, but you mind if I choose someone else for this first one?" I asked. Might as well use the opportunity for something. "It's not a Psychic-Type, I swear."
Koichi looked hesitant, but after Evan nodded in agreement, the Dojo Master followed suit. "I suppose that's your decision. However, the battle remains one Pokémon. If your new choice isn't up to scratch, then you lose. Do you agree to the terms?"
"I do." I nodded, grabbing a PokéBall from my belt.
"In that case, yes, you can pick whichever Pokémon you wish. Now, as I said, no inter-species violence is permitted, and I will know if any 'accidents' are deliberate," Koichi looked at us sternly. "Beyond that, there will be no substitutions! If there is a loss and a win on either side – say that young Peri's Pokémon bests Evan's, but Evan defeats young Peri – then the victor will be decided by me. Understood!?" I nodded again, hiding my eye twitch. What a random, whacky example. "Good! Yellow Belt Evan, are you ready?" The old teen, who indeed had a yellow belt securing his gi, nodded and reached for his PokéBall. I didn't know how high Yellow was on the list, but I put it aside to take in his Pokémon when he released it.
Bouncing on brown 'shoe'-like protective material at the end of thin legs, the two-foot-tall Pokémon was predominantly pale purple. It happened from time to time, but I was once again somewhat uncomfortable with how human a Pokémon looked. Beyond just the 'shoes', similar padding covered its hips and thighs like shorts, bandage-esque bands wrapping around its torso and wrists, three-fingered hands clenching and unclenching in anticipation. Three blunt protrusions atop its head lowered as the Tyrogue bowed towards Koichi and then me when it saw me, yellow eyes shining with eagerness.
"And the challenger?" Koichi asked, and I complied with a smirk.
"Alright, hope you're ready to have your minds blown! This place needs some beauty anyway, and I have just the thing!" I threw the PokéBall dramatically, really hamming it up.
"Behold!"
The red and white sphere opened with a flash of red light, quickly forming the familiar shape of Siren, the Feebas. Yet as the light faded and she materialized in all her glory, it was easy to see the differences.
Her dull brown scales shone with the polish I'd spent over an hour rubbing into them that morning, reflecting the light in a way that almost made up for their drab color and pattern. Her fins were neat and straight – or as neat and straight as they could get – the additional slight fraying that had marred the edges cleaned up with a Potion.
And the crown jewel – the pièce de résistance – hanging down from her back-fin by a thin chain and resting in the middle of her forehead, was the Prism Scale.
It was terribly secured and almost guaranteed to fall off within seconds of battling, but until then, it looked good, and that was all that mattered.
"Isn't she stunning?" I laid it on thick, glaring at the novice until he nodded in agreement, his Tyrogue copying him.
"I-yeah, sure. Looking good." He gave a hesitant thumbs up, looking distinctly unsure, but I ignored him to stare at Siren meaningfully – even as she shrank in on herself at the praise. She'd never been particularly shy, but compliments hit her right in the inferiority complex.
The Prism Scale failing was rough, like, extremely rough. Even with knowing that trade evolutions didn't carry over between fiction and reality, I'd still hoped it would be like an Evolution Stone, and she just had to touch it.
No such luck. That left us with only one way for the Feebas to evolve into a Milotic.
Max out her beauty stat, and then level her up.
Just one problem – what the fuck was a beauty stat and how did I check it?
In the games, you just spammed a bunch of specific PokéBlocks to increase the meter, the same way you battled with Eevee a lot, without letting it faint, during the daytime to increase friendship and make it evolve into Espeon.
But Espeon didn't evolve in battle. The only ones of my Pokémon that had were Hercules and Betty, both of which were 'level-based' evolutions instead of item-based. Espeon had evolved due to emotions and feelings so intense that she unlocked a latent potential within her.
Assuming Siren functioned somewhat similarly, I would need Siren – self-esteem issues incarnate – to genuinely believe that she was beautiful. Not just agree for my sake, but honestly take it to heart.
And so began what I imagined would be a long-ass process of making every single person we encountered praise the Feebas, voluntarily or not.
She would have no choice but to believe it when the entirety of Kanto had told her so.
I switched my glare to Koichi, who got the hint even faster than his student.
"Indeed!" He nodded assuredly, mimicking me in dramatizing it. "I have seen a few Feebas in my life, and this is a fine one!"
Siren wheezed lowly to herself, looking like she was trying to sink into the floor.
"But beauty will only take you so far!" Koichi announced, throwing his arms out. "Now, it is time to fight! Trainers, Pokémon, greet your opponents with honor!"
Not sure of the procedure, I followed Evan's lead, Siren doing the same with Tyrogue as we all approached each other. The two Pokémon bowed to each other, while Evan offered me a handshake.
"Let's have a good match!"
"Let's." I agreed, looking at his bright, earnest smile and keeping my shit talk to myself. The guy kind of reminded me of Ash. Really unfortunate that I had to beat his ass like a drum.
I warned them, though.
"A fine show of sportsmanship!" Koichi called out to the onlookers. I didn't mind if he wanted to make what he had made sound like a rare event – that being a new Trainer showing up to fight them – into a teaching moment. "Remember, it is always worth it to show respect to your opponent! Whether personal or Pokémon, a small effort can go a long way! Isn't that right, young Peri!?"
"Absolutely." I was vaguely surprised that karma didn't smite me for lying so hard, or like, Arcues himself.
"Indeed!" Koichi didn't seem to pick up on it, holding up his hand. "Then, Peri, Evan, Tyrogue, Feebas! Begin the fight!" He dropped his arm and jumped back, giving us the ring.
"Come on, Evan!"
"Yeah, you got this!"
Encouraged by the cheering spectators, Evan moved forwards with his hands raised in a way that could generously be called a guard. Lifting my own, I waited for him to stop right outside of range, even for his longer arms and reach.
Though not as much longer as they once would've been. Bruno's insistence on feeding me until I hurled had given me several inches, both in height and in muscle mass.
"Don't be scared, Evan!"
"Yeah, you got it!"
Whether it was the comments or me being younger and smaller than him, Evan made the first move. Stepping forwards heavily with his right foot, he followed it up with a straight jab on the same side. It was slow and choreographed, Evan clearly giving me a chance rather than actually putting effort into it.
Mistake.
His green eyes widened as my own hand latched onto his wrist like an Ekans, stopping his arm mid-motion. He tugged experimentally, to zero results, and looked disbelievingly up at my face, where my toothy grin met him.
And then I spun, taking my own step while yanking and twisting, pulling his weight up and over. Usually, something like that would've been done without stopping your opponent, using their own momentum against them.
But Poliwrath had been the one to show me, and he'd liked showing off.
With a yelp, Evan's feet left the floor, and he rose upwards against his will. For a moment, he hung there as the whole Dojo stared at him slack-jawed, before the power of gravity and my semi-superpowered body brought him back down.
SLAM!
The breath was knocked from Evan as he met the mats on the ground, saliva erupting from his open mouth. I backed off as he wheezed, curling up on the floor until, with a sudden hacking fit, he sucked in greedy mouthfuls of air.
Thud!
Another noise drew my attention to the side, just in time to see Tyrogue hit the ropes and be thrown back the way he came. That way just so happened to be straight back into a Water Gun, the wide spray crackling with an electric charge. Tyrogue spasmmed as he was caught in the combination move, falling to the ground and twitching heavily.
I nodded in satisfaction. Putting her Electric-Type Hidden Power into her Water-Type moves was a great idea, and a much-needed way for her to add some 'oomph' to her attacks, but it was easier said than done. For now, she could only do it with a half-hearted Water Gun, the split attention taking too much effort for even a proper one, and she'd honestly be better off just going for Scald or Ice Beam.
But that was why we practiced on the easy ones.
I looked back as Tyrogue did its best to push itself up on shaky legs, seeing Evan doing the same. I looked to Koichi to see if he wanted to call the match, but the Karate Master simply looked on with crossed arms.
Alright then.
I gave Evan a second to regain his bearings – unlike Siren, who was already pounding Tyrogue to get it to stay down, hammering Water Bullet after Ice Bullet into it – but didn't insult him by waiting too long. Despite my misgivings, he'd been training in the Dojo, alongside Pokémon, for years, according to Koichi.
Surely he'd had worse.
Evan was on the defensive as I threw my own jab, catching it on his forearm with a winch. I kept it up, starting to get into it when he held up under a slow 1-2 combo, stalking him as he retreated closer to the edge of the ring. I feinted left, and he barely managed to get away from the following hook, my hand brushing his cheek.
In hindsight, I should've seen it coming after our first exchange, but instinct got the better of me. I'd only really fought people I wanted to hurt, or who were so much stronger than me that it didn't matter what I wanted, so I wasn't really thinking about it when my blows got a little faster and stronger.
At least, not until Evan threw both arms up in front of his face desperately, and my fist parted them like they weren't even there, not stopping until my knuckles were flush against his face.
Right on top of his nose.
"Oh shit!" I exclaimed, genuinely sorry as the teen let out a half-muffled shout of pain, hands flying up to gently cradle the sensitive sniffer as blood began spraying from the appendage where it rested on his left cheek, bent a solid 90 degrees. "I am so sor-"
"No, no!" Koichi cut in, striding over to us with long steps. I looked over to Siren's fight, as I hadn't heard anyone call for a pause, only to find her already at my feet, Tyrogue lying face down on the mats and covered in dark purple bruises. "It's my fault!"
I blinked. "I… don't see how."
Koichi gently removed the moaning Evan's hands from his face and looked closely at the nose, not caring about the specks of blood that landed on his face. "Yes, definitely broken. Afraid your streak is over, Evan! You're one of us now!" He laughed heartily alongside the others, who I now noticed, all had crooked noses to one degree or another. "And it's my fault," he continued, turning to me while Evan was escorted out of the ring and his Tyrogue recalled to its PokéBall, "because you warned me and I dismissed you out of arrogance. My overconfidence and faith in my students have put them at risk."
Smack!
""""""SORRY!""""""
"I should still have pulled that punch," I argued as they all straightened up from their bow.
Koichi waved me off. "You trusted my judgment and went after him as if you were on the same level. Accidents like that happen, and a broken nose is not something to make a big deal about." I was starting to like the Dojo. Finally, someone who didn't make a big fuss when I punched them in the face. "I clearly underestimated you! Your skills are sharp, your strength great, and your Feebas' might is only surpassed by her looks!" We both laughed as Siren finally had enough of the compliments and, for the first time since I'd caught her, voluntarily returned to her PokéBall. "Ah, I appeared to have embarrassed her! My apologies, I'm sure she had at least one more fight in her!"
"Nah, it's fine. As I said, I'll be using Herc for this," said Pokémon, who joined us in the ring, having been watching from the sidelines in anticipation. "He's basically my Fighting-Type and took to Bruno's training the best." With the addition of Sol, but the Arcanine could barely fit in the ring, much less fight in it.
"I look forward to seeing it!" In a rare display of manners that had my opinion of the man rising even further, Koichi held out his hand and shook Hercules', barely twitching at the constant electric charge that ran through his fur. "Fighting-Type is a matter of heart as much as actual Typing! Hmm," he scratched his beard again, looking over the waiting students, "since you won so decisively, I feel we can quite safely skip the Green Belt and go straight to Blue! Joseph, why don't you see if you're a better match for young Peri here!"
"Of course, Master!" The guy who hopped in the ring did so with much more confidence than Evan had, looking down his nose at me. He was taller than my previous opponent as well, one of the tallest there, with thin, gangly arms corded with muscle. "I hope you're ready, kid. I won't be taking it easy on you."
"I wouldn't recommend it," I warned with a smirk, making him sniff condescendingly. I was going to feel way better breaking Joseph's nose than Evan's.
"Joseph and Peri, Electabuzz and Machoke!" Koichi called out while Joseph released the Pokémon beside him. The Superpower Pokémon flexed at Hercules, veins and muscles building under the thin grey skin. It was a little small for a Machoke, though I knew better than to dismiss a Pokémon based on just that, but more than its height, it was the slimness that stood out to me. Most Machoke, hell, most Fighting-Types in general, were hulking slabs of beef.
"It's going to be fast," I mumbled to Herc, who held out a fist for me to pound. Doing so, the Electric-Type let out a happy whirl and ignited both his fists in buzzing electricity, the Thunder Gloves extending over his elbows.
"Are you ready!?" All four of us nodded. "Then begin!"
Hercules and Machoke wasted no time getting stuck in. Both seemed to blur from their starting spot, meeting in the middle of the ring with their fists clashing.
BAM!
Hercules lost out on the exchange, having to move his hand or break his wrist under Machoke's strength. The two traded another dozen blows in half that many seconds, small shockwaves erupting from their blocks and making the ropes dance behind them when they missed.
BAM!
BA-BAM!
There was no denying that the Machoke was stronger than Hercules. The species as a whole was based around raw muscle power, so that wasn't the surprising part. No, rather, it was that it wasn't all that much stronger. Hercules couldn't match it, no, but only just.
Instead, it was as I'd thought. Joseph seemed to be training his Machoke specifically for speed, the Fighting-Type able to respond to Hercules' flurry of blows even as the pace ratcheted up.
BAM!
BA-BAM!
BA-BA-BAM-BAM-BA-BAM!
For a while, anyway. The grimace of concentration on the reptilian face deepened with every passing second, fingers and hands shaking from the repeated electricity surging through them, and all the while, Hercules was only getting more and more into it with every missed or blocked blow.
Trusting my Pokémon, I turned back to my own battle, raising an eyebrow at the still unmoving Joseph. The man stood ready, in a stance I didn't recognize and definitely wasn't based on his Machoke, and was seemingly waiting for me to make the first move. At first, he'd done so with the same sneer of superiority, but as the battle on the opposite side heated up and our hair and clothing started moving in the wind generated, beads of sweat began running down his forehead.
Oh well, best not to keep him waiting for too long.
Moving closer, he tensed as I stopped in front of him. Testing him, I feinted towards his head, smirking when he tried to swat it away. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to do the same to me, but his eyes gave him away, and I didn't flinch.
One point for me.
The second point came quickly. Joseph was definitely better than Evan; that couldn't be denied, and in the back of my mind, I honestly had to wonder if he was better than me as well. There was a fluidity when he moved, an almost dance-like quality to every swat of his arms and drag of his foot. He was nearly constantly in motion, deflecting and circling, kicking as much as he punched and feinting like it was going out of style.
Nah, I was better.
But one thing he wasn't was particularly strong.
Pretending to get some distance, I planted my back foot rather than putting my weight on it, and used it to jump forwards. Joseph didn't have more than a second to react, but even then, his graceful twirling almost got him out of the way.
Almost.
He shouted and cursed from the ground as I wrapped my limbs around him and squeezed, his fists hammering into the mats and legs kicking like a toddler. It was no use, though, and eventually, he had to concede that when his face started turning purple and his ribs creaked under the pressure.
"And the winner, for the second time in a row, is Peri!" Koichi chuckled, helping both of us to our feet, though Joseph stormed off. We'd had to wait a couple of minutes longer as Herc had been taking his time, but once he saw that I was done, he quickly ended it with a Thunder Punch to the ribs and Hammer Arm to the chin. "You two need a minute?"
"Nah, we're good," I said on both our behalfs, Herc whirring in agreement. I was breathing a little hard, but nothing serious, and Herc had barely gotten warmed up.
"That's what I like to hear!" Koichi slapped me on the back. "Larry, get up here! Show these youngsters how it's done!" Before he left, he gave me some parting words. "Be on your guard! Larry is one of our best!"
My next opponent was indeed an older fellow, older than Koichi himself, even, and I felt a bit of respect for him. It couldn't be easy, swallowing your pride like that. The man was bald and actually a little shorter than me, with a grey beard hanging down to his chest, the only splash of color on him being the red belt around his waist.
"As you heard, I am Larry." His voice was hoarse but clear as he bowed. "I look forward to our bout."
"Same," I matched his bow, nodding appreciatively at the Hitmonlee that appeared next to him.
"Peri and Larry, Electabuzz and Hitmonlee! Begin!"
I rushed forward, guided by my gut. Something about Larry, about the way he took his stance as if it was as natural as breathing, bothered me. Neither of my other two opponents had me on edge like that.
Whosh!
I clicked my tongue at the casual sway of his head to avoid my blow, having to jump back to dodge his return kick, and even then, it brushed against my shirt.
Ba-Bam!
He flicked my wrist with his palm, diverting its path while lifting his foot over my sweep. Gracefully, his deflection turned into a grab, his long and thin fingers wrapping around me and then suddenly closing like steel beams. I pulled my hand to me swiftly, only for him to let go without a fight, sending me stumbling and unable to respond to the foot that hit me in the chest, sending me to the floor for the first time.
"You got this, Mr. Larry!"
"Yeah, get him, old man!"
I growled to myself while quickly getting up. Over with Herc, he was holding his own better than I was, though he was already surrounded by the white glow of Quick Attack, the speed boosting cloak almost completely smooth. Hitmonlee was pushing him hard, standing on its hands like a breakdancer as it kicked at the Electabuzz with glowing feet.
Hercules tried to sweep said arms out from under it, but it pushed off the ground and spun like a cannonball, and extended a single leg in a vicious axe kick, the limb glowing with what I recognized as Hammer Arm – Hammer Leg?
Hercules managed to catch it with crossed arms, but he was forced to one knee, the floorboards under the mats splintering from the force.
"Eyes on your opponent, young one."
By pure instinct, I leaned back right as one of Larry's fists just barely missed my head.
I couldn't avoid the other one that slammed into my ribs and made me flinch, opening up my guard to a quick jab that caught me in the throat.
"Ack!" I choked lightly, and Larry backed off, apparently content with his work. Coughing, I growled despite my best efforts to remain calm and went back at him.
Right hook, left hook, kick, kick, third kick, jab!
Nothing got through; my blows missed Larry by less than an inch as he swatted them away like flies. A lifted knee caught my leg in the shin and sent a painful jolt of lightning racing up through the limb. An extension of the same leg pushed me away from him enough that my sloppy left missed, and he smacked me in the cheek with an open palm.
Smack!
Taking a deep breath as he backed off again, I followed it with another, and then another. Hercules seemed to have gotten a second wind, his tendency to fight harder the longer the battle went on kicking in. Hitmonlee was clearly a good fighter, with many years of experience, but every combatant tended to have certain patterns that they liked – things they had trained, things that had worked in the past, and that they trusted to work in the future.
Most of the time, it wasn't anything that could give you a major advantage, and at the highest levels, stuff like that were more likely to be a trap than anything else.
But Hercules lived and breathed for close-range combat, and once given the chance, he saw right through Hitmonlee.
The Fighting-Type flipped over onto its hands, raining down a torrent of kicks like rain, and pushing off when Hercules tried to sweep it. Tucking, it spun again, getting ready to throw the axe kick-
BAAAM!
-when it was caught mid-air by Hercules' half-learned Focus Punch, dead center in the chest, and folded around the limb like a cheap lawn chair before shooting backward.
I didn't have time to take in anymore, having to focus back on my own battle and wipe some drool from my face. My cheek stung a tiny bit, but it honestly wasn't bad.
I was getting angry. But not because I was losing, no.
I was getting angry because he wasn't hurting me.
Taking another deep breath, I thought about it logically. Larry was fighting to win. The old man was breathing deeply and slowly, but there was no hiding the sweat on his face. He was clearly putting in effort.
No, it wasn't that he wasn't trying. It was that he didn't want to hurt me.
It's how he'd been trained, I realized, looking around at the other disciples and equipment in the Dojo. Through sparing and practice, he'd learnt the stances and how to fight better than I had, I had to admit. Larry's fighting skills were higher than mine – maybe not by a great deal, but enough that I couldn't bring my greater strength and speed to bear the way I had against Joseph.
Setting myself, I focused, doing my best to circulate my Aura throughout my body and let it fill me. Then, I took off as fast as I could towards Larry, the old man frowning at my straight-forward charge.
But Larry hadn't learnt how to hurt someone. In fact, he'd learnt how to stop just before causing pain and injury.
Slam!
His foot hit me in the side of the head dead-on, without anything blocking it. If our positions were reversed, I might've genuinely killed Larry with a full-on kick to the head.
As it was, it opened a small cut that leaked blood and pushed me to the side a bit, but not enough to stop me from clamping my hands around his ankle. Looking shocked, he stared at my sadistic grin as I yanked him closer.
"Aaaand I'm going to call it there! The winner is Peri!"
I stopped with my fist raised, the other still holding Larry's leg, while the 60 year old man prepared to defend himself from my beatdown and looked over at Koichi as he interrupted.
"Huh?" I asked intelligently.
In response, he pointed over to the other side, where a panting Hercules was standing over Hitmonlee as the Fighting-Type heaved for breath. Herc was gingerly nursing a large burn mark on his left flank and flexing his opposite hand, but despite both being conscious, it was clear who the victor was.
"Your Electabuzz won a little bit ago. It looked like Larry was going to take you down, but that was a risky maneuver you pulled there, hahahaha!" Koichi laughed.
"...yeah," I agreed slowly, the battle haze lifting as I realized that I was about to beat an old guy in front of a bunch of witnesses. "Sorry about that." I let him go and offered Larry my hand. "Nice fight, though. You're damn good!"
"As are you, young man," Larry chuckled, shaking off having his teeth nearly knocked out remarkably well. "I truly thought I had you there, but I did not see that coming."
"The difference between learning to fight in here versus out there," Koichi agreed with a serious tone, turning to his students. "You hear that!? I know many of you don't understand that difference! Well, you just saw an example of it! Larry is better than Peri is, and I'm sure Peri will agree!" It took a couple of seconds of him staring at me, but I begrudgingly nodded. "You see!? And yet, Peri won for one very simple reason! Real-life experience! You've been in real, life-or-death fights, haven't you!?"
"One or two," I confirmed, getting a snort and smirk from the man.
"One or two," he agreed so only the two of us could hear before raising his voice again. "And that makes all the difference! Not in skill, as you saw, but in mindset! You've been trained to pull your punches, to avoid harming your opponent, but that doesn't work out there!"
"That being said," he continued, "there's not a lot we can do about it! I've held off since I didn't think it was necessary, but between the attack on the S.S. Anne and the Celadon debacle, I was clearly wrong! We've been resting on our Lapapa since losing to the Psychics, but no more! Going forwards, we will spend more time going over how you should respond in a truly dangerous situation!"
""""""YES MASTER!""""""
"Good!" Koichi turned back to me as Larry vacated the ring with his Hitmonlee. "In that case, let me give you your first lesson!" He reached up and pulled the top of his gi to the side, letting it fall open and hang around his waist. His muscles were impressive, a good balance between strength and utility, but that wasn't what caught my eye.
Those were the scars that stretched across his torso. Some clearly claw marks, one I thought was teeth, roughly textured patches from either fire or ice, and a couple I recognized as knives.
"Let me show you what it means to have both experience AND skill!" Koichi, the Karate Master of the Saffron Fighting Dojo, called out loudly while retrieving a worn PokéBall from the loose part of his gi. "Prepare yourself, Peri! Here we come!"
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I wanted to do the whole Dojo in one chapter, but as usual, it got away from me.
Also, take the belt colors with a grain of salt. While they're the real colors, it's not a direct one-to-one comparison. It's more to show where Peri is, which is like, strong, but not Black Belt, professional fighter level.
At least not with pure skills. Add in Aura – presuming the other guy doesn't have it – and experience, and it might be different, as seen with Larry the Red Belt.
The whole 'unconsciously pulling punches' thing is real, and is one of the observed differences between someone who's trained against someone they don't want to hurt, and people who learn combat arts or military stuff. Obviously not to the same degree that I show here, but you know.
Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoyed. If you REALLY liked it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.