The last rays of the setting sun gilded the skyline of Fuchsia City in warm, burnished gold.
At the city's entrance, Ash, Misty, and Brock stood together, watching the sleek luxury sedan carrying Gary slowly pull away and disappear down the road.
Well — to be accurate, Gary had actually walked most of the way on foot after the battle. The blow to his pride had been considerable, and he'd needed the time to process it. His fangirl squad had no choice but to creep along behind him at walking pace in the car.
The trio didn't rush off either. They simply followed along at a leisurely distance, keeping an eye on him.
Only when Gary finally seemed to snap back to himself and climbed into the car did the three of them truly relax.
Good. He's not completely broken.
Not that it would have been surprising if he were — but Gary was tougher than that.
"He just... left like that? He's not going to stop at the Pokémon Center first?" Misty watched the direction the sedan had vanished in, blinking with mild puzzlement.
Gary's Pokémon hadn't sustained any serious injuries during the battle, but the mental shock and physical exhaustion were very real.
"Knowing Gary, he's headed straight for the most luxurious hotel in the city," Ash said, lacing his hands behind his head as he walked. "He's got top-tier private recovery equipment and his own personal nutritionist. That's more his style than any Pokémon Center."
The medical staff at those upscale hotels couldn't hold a candle to Nurse Joy in terms of pure skill — but for routine recovery, they were more than adequate.
Brock nodded, unbothered. "Everyone has their own way of doing things. How a Trainer chooses to rest and recover is part of the journey itself."
He paused, glancing at his two companions with a warm smile.
"Besides — for us, the Pokémon Center is the only place that really feels like home, isn't it? Lively, familiar, and full of Trainers from every corner of the world."
Most high-level Trainers weren't short on money. But being financially comfortable didn't necessarily mean craving luxury.
The road to strength was rarely comfortable. Brock himself had once spent weeks meditating alone on a mountaintop, exposed to wind and weather, tempering the unshakeable stillness of his mind.
If people saw Brock as easy-going these days, that was his choice — it had nothing to do with him being soft.
"Exactly!" Misty agreed immediately. She patted her belt pouch with a satisfied little thump — it held the reward money from resolving the Gringey City crisis, plus a share of the Team Rocket bounty. "It's not like we can't afford a hotel. We just don't need one."
Honestly, for both Brock and Misty as Gym Trainers, the sum wasn't enormous. And Ash himself was hardly strapped for cash at this point either.
But free money was free money.
"Ooh, there are so many dojos along the road," Misty remarked, eyeing the variety of buildings as they walked.
"Strictly speaking, those are imitation ninja dojos," Brock clarified. "There are quite a few people who train under Koga's school of thought."
Just as Sabrina taught psychics and Erika sold perfume, Koga had his own economic footprint. His sphere of influence was this network of ninja-style martial arts schools.
Traveling in the wild always carried its share of danger — these places existed to sharpen Trainers' personal capabilities and prepare them to handle that danger.
Every Gym Leader's particular specialty and strengths shaped the economic ecosystem of their city, and in turn the city shaped them. The relationship wasn't one-way — it was a continuous, mutual influence.
Saffron City's advanced economic development was what could sustain the cultivation of psychics. Pewter City worked the mountain it sat against; Cerulean City worked the sea at its doorstep.
And Fuchsia City's defining characteristic was — ninja.
"...Everyone else has such a serious, disciplined approach, and then there's my three sisters doing synchronized water ballet performances," Misty muttered, a hint of exasperation in her voice. She privately thought they'd be better off just running a proper aquarium.
"Don't say that, Misty," Ash said, jumping in. "Daisy, Violet, Lily — they've all worked really hard in their own way."
"Okay, okay, I know, don't lecture me!" Misty sighed.
She wasn't actually saying her sisters were terrible. It was just the kind of casual ribbing that came naturally between family members.
Chatting and laughing, the three of them stepped through the doors of the Fuchsia City Pokémon Center.
The moment they entered, a subtly unusual scent greeted them — a blend of various medicinal herbs and faint antiseptic, distinctly different from the other cities they'd passed through.
The other difference was immediately visible: Trainers accompanied by Poison-type Pokémon were noticeably more common here. Purple fuzzy Venonat bounced along beside their owners everywhere you looked. Zubat hung in the air, rustling their wings. And coiled lazily at one Trainer's feet, eyes sharp despite their languid posture, was a sleek Arbok.
"Wow," Ash said, glancing around. "A city with a dedicated ninja dojo really does have a different vibe."
There was something in the air itself — a careful, watchful quality that fit perfectly with every stereotype of the ninja aesthetic.
Brock crossed his arms and offered his analysis from the professional perspective of a Gym Leader:
"Gym Leader Koga is said to be the head of a ninja clan with a long and storied lineage. His battle style isn't about overwhelming opponents with raw power — it emphasizes tactics, timing, and the strategic application of status conditions."
"To the uninformed, it might not look flashy. But his true strength is at minimum Elite Four tier."
Of course, Brock was talking about formal Pokémon battles.
In an informal, unrestricted confrontation — say, a surprise poisoning in the dead of night — Koga was arguably among the most dangerous individuals on the planet.
Even a Champion-tier Trainer had to eat, sleep, and drink. Everyone had moments of vulnerability.
Making an enemy of Koga meant spending every waking moment of your life looking over your shoulder.
But there was a well-known truth: there are a thousand days for a thief to act, and not a single day a man can be fully on guard.
Fortunately, Koga had built too much to throw away by acting recklessly. The temple stays even when the monk runs. Anyone with a reputation and a livelihood to protect had reasons to stay measured.
"Elite Four tier?!" Misty blinked. "But he's still just a Gym Leader..."
"That's the reality of the Kanto region for you," Brock said, and there was something complex in his tone — a mix of pride and a certain heaviness that came with being a Kanto Trainer. "The Elite Four here are exceptional by any standard."
"Granny Agatha, master of Ghost-types — her experience and sheer power are unfathomable."
"Lorelei, the Ice specialist — her tactics are cold and endlessly adaptable."
"Bruno, who has trained his body to go toe-to-toe with Fighting-type Pokémon in hand-to-hand combat."
"And then there's Lance — the Dragon-type Master. By all accounts, he can annihilate any opponent through sheer, overwhelming force."
"Even among those at the Elite Four level, the gaps are enormous. Koga is genuinely strong — but to break into Kanto's Elite Four, the difficulty is something else entirely."
Brock privately thought that in a truly unrestricted, no-holds-barred conflict — the kind decided by who eliminated who first — Koga might actually have a real shot at taking down three of the four. He simply had no prayer against Granny Agatha.
But in a fair, formal confrontation? He couldn't beat a single one of them. You didn't ask a master of concealment and ambush to fight head-on. A ghost assassin without his shadows couldn't cut down even the most ordinary of opponents — the mismatch would be total. Absurd, almost.
The trio made their way to the front desk to check in.
As they approached, Nurse Joy happened to be explaining the Fuchsia Gym's challenge rules to another newly arrived Trainer. The Trainer was listening with an expression of deep seriousness, nodding along to every word.
Noticing Ash and the others glancing over with curiosity, the ever-gentle Nurse Joy smoothly extended the explanation to include them:
"The Fuchsia Gym is quite unusual, I must say."
"Its location isn't in the city itself — it's on Mount Fuchsia, that mist-shrouded peak just outside the city limits. Challengers must first register at the mountain's base, then rely entirely on their own abilities — without the help of their Pokémon — to navigate the path to the top, which is riddled with mechanisms and traps."
She gestured to a display case nearby, which held medical kits and signal transmitters of various sizes.
"The path you take — and the difficulty of the traps — scales with the number of Gym Badges you've already earned. The more Badges you have, the harder and more devious the obstacles become."
"Before you begin the ascent, you'll receive a kit calibrated to your level. Inside, you'll find antidotes for common toxins, burn remedies, and paralysis cures."
Nurse Joy then held up a small device resembling a wristwatch.
"And this signal transmitter — make sure you wear it at all times. The entire mountain is patrolled by Venonat, Zubat, and other Pokémon trained by Gym Leader Koga for reconnaissance. They'll be watching from the shadows."
"If you encounter a danger you truly cannot handle, or find yourself completely trapped by a mechanism, press the distress button. Someone will reach you quickly."
"However — doing so means your Gym challenge is automatically forfeit for that attempt."
Strictly speaking, none of this was Nurse Joy's responsibility. But given how genuinely dangerous the Fuchsia Gym could be, she'd taken it upon herself to brief every Trainer who came through.
Pure kindness. Nothing more.
The medical kits and equipment on display were sold here on consignment for the Gym. In truth, there were authorized vendors all over the city.
As for whether anyone was bold enough to sell counterfeits or try to cheat the system?
Probably not. Not here, in Fuchsia City.
Koga's reputation in this city was every bit as formidable as Sabrina's in Saffron. The difference was that Sabrina's influence was a blanket of omniscience draped over the entire city — she knew everything.
Koga was something else: he lurked in the shadows, and no one ever knew. No one knew what the ninja might do, or when, or where. He might be standing in the shadow right next to you as you ate your dinner or fell asleep.
Where Brock and Misty made noise when they fought, Koga was the type who made almost none at all.
Brock added from the side: "Nurse Joy is absolutely right. The Fuchsia Gym doesn't just test your Pokémon's battle power — it tests the Trainer themselves. Observation, reaction speed, physical endurance, willpower, and practical knowledge of wilderness survival."
"It's one of the more demanding challenges out there. But also one of the most genuinely formative."
Brock had always privately thought that compared to some other Gyms, his own Pewter Gym was among the most straightforward. The Celadon Gym was similar. The Cerulean Gym was a bit of a trap for the uninformed — but still not quite on the level of this.
Misty listened, and then turned to Ash with a gleam of pure schadenfreude in her eyes.
"Did you catch all of that, Ash? You're carrying five Badges now. That path up the mountain is going to give you very special attention. Those traps are going to really love you."
Misty's personality had gotten a bit sharper lately. Don't ask how she'd picked up this habit. It was just how she was now — and honestly, it made the group more entertaining. There was a certain charm to friends who could banter and squabble.
Ash, however, did not look remotely frightened at Misty's words.
Instead, his face broke into an expression of pure, eager excitement. He puffed out his chest and gave it a firm thump.
"Don't worry — no problem at all! A challenge like this is exactly what I've been looking for!"
And this wasn't blind bravado.
After the deep fusion with Ho-Oh and receiving its blessing, Ash could feel the changes in his body clearly — a complete, bone-deep transformation.
Ho-Oh's primary power was life and purification. It hadn't granted him an invincible, unbreakable body in the literal sense — but it had given him an extraordinary resistance to almost all toxins and diseases, along with a stamina and recovery rate that far exceeded any ordinary human.
And beyond that: with every official Gym Badge he earned, the System provided a small but systematic boost and tempering of his physical capabilities. Five Badges in, his strength, speed, endurance, and reaction time were all in a completely different league from when he'd first set out from Pallet Town.
The only unfortunate thing was that the System had its own constraints. The Badge Wall for Kanto only had eight slots.
Once all eight Kanto Badges were filled, he'd have to move on to other regions to continue. Otherwise, Ash genuinely would have been happy to challenge every Gym in the entire region.
Ash's confidence made both Misty and Brock laugh.
Yes. This was the Ash they knew.
They'd watched every step of his journey. Through Viridian Forest, the encounter with the Giant Dragonite, the confrontation with Giovanni, the visit to Celadon University, learning psychic powers in Saffron City, mastering fighting techniques at the Fighting Spirit Dojo, passing the Rainbow Hero trial in Gringey City — and along the way, encounters with Marshadow, Suicune, Entei, Ho-Oh herself... and even a Zygarde Cell.
Ash's rate of growth had long since surpassed anything a normal Trainer's journey could produce.
Both Brock and Misty were quietly certain: this year's Indigo League title belonged to Ash. No question about it.
Could some other ridiculously overpowered challenger show up out of nowhere and steal the championship?
Impossible. Absolutely impossible.
Amid Nurse Joy's warm "Good luck to all of you!" the three completed their check-in and received their room keys. The Gym challenge would only be Ash's to take — but the blessing, of course, was shared equally among all three.
Walking down the clean, brightly lit corridors of the Pokémon Center, Misty was still savoring the earlier conversation. "But honestly, having to navigate a ninja-booby-trapped mountain path entirely on your own... when you think about it, that does sound kind of thrilling."
It was certainly demanding in terms of personal combat skills and physical fitness.
But then again — thinking about Ash's current physical capabilities...
Misty wasn't sure it was actually that hard for him?
Brock sounded a note of caution: "Don't get careless. Koga's traps are no joke — they're the kind you can't see coming. We need to prepare thoroughly. Information-gathering first, then gear and supplies."
Ninja fundamentals, after all, weren't about head-on combat. The ascent would test more than just brute capability — it would test cunning and perception.
In that sense, it was a bit like the early stages of certain legendary epics — before everyone's power had escalated to the point of simply blowing each other up with overwhelming force.
"Got it, got it!" Ash said with full confidence.
His current loadout was honestly almost tailor-made for the Fuchsia Gym challenge.
That said — Ash had no intention of just bulldozing through it. The whole point of a Gym challenge wasn't simply to clear it. The real purpose was to grow through it. Clearing a Gym without growing from the experience was ultimately kind of pointless.
"Tomorrow we'll explore the city, pick up whatever we need, and then head to the mountain base to register!"
"I can't wait to take on the Fuchsia Gym!"
Back in his room, Ash didn't head straight to bed.
"Pika!" Pikachu immediately bounced onto the bed and began hunting for the TV remote.
"Mai mai~" Misdreavus floated toward the bathroom and started running a bath.
Unfortunately, apart from those two — small enough to comfortably share a Pokémon Center room — the others had grown considerably.
Pidgeot and Charizard could technically be let out, but the room's dimensions were designed for humans. For two Pokémon of their size, movement was strained at best. There was simply no room to spread out.
But — pop, pop —
The familiar sound of Poké Balls opening rang out.
If you could let your Pokémon out, why would you keep them cooped up inside their balls?
So Pidgeot and Charizard were released anyway — and promptly found they had nowhere to actually go in the cramped space. They ended up sprawling across the bed alongside Pikachu to watch TV together.
As for Gyarados?
Let's just skip past that.
A personal hotel room was simply not large enough to accommodate Gyarados under any circumstances.
— Gyarados, internally: Buy me peanuts!!!
"Haha..." Ash watched Pikachu and Charizard fighting over the TV remote and found the whole thing genuinely funny.
Still, there was a small wistfulness sitting quietly in his chest.
Ash stood by the window, gazing out at the lights of Fuchsia City blinking on one by one as evening deepened. In the distance, through the dusk and the haze, the faint silhouette of a mountain range loomed — visible and then not, rising and falling with the mist.
That was Mount Fuchsia.
"This is the world of Pokémon we live in~" Ash murmured softly, his hand resting gently on the Poké Ball at his waist — the one that held Ho-Oh.
Ho-Oh and Ash were close, but even so, a divine being of that stature wasn't about to come bounding out to roughhouse with Pikachu and the others. So Ho-Oh remained quietly inside a regular Poké Ball.
Yes. This is the world we protect.
Ho-Oh was among the most conscientious of the legendary divine Pokémon. Even now, Ash could feel the vast, gentle pulse of its will radiating through the ball — warm and immense, like sunlight through deep water.
He smiled, and some of the tension in him eased. Having Ho-Oh nearby brought a profound sense of security — but not dependence. If anything, the awareness of that powerful backing only made him hunger more to face the challenges ahead on his own terms.
Ash glanced down at the deep-blue crystal pendant hanging at his chest. The rainbow-colored holy ash sealed within it caught the faint glow from the window and shimmered — mysterious and warm.
...A truly priceless treasure. Ten uses of the rarest thing in the world.
"With my own strength..." he murmured softly.
At that moment — the sound of water stopped in the bathroom.
"Mai mai mai!" Misdreavus's eager voice carried through the door. The bath was ready. Come in.
"Coming, coming~" Ash padded into the bathroom and began undressing. The Poké Ball with Ho-Oh inside was set carefully on the clothes rack.
Ash's baths these days were, objectively, very comfortable. Misdreavus could use her psychic power to hold the scrubbing cloth and work Ash's back with perfectly even pressure.
Just —
Ho-Oh, watching through the ball: My Hero has quite the physique.
Ho-Oh: ...Impressive.
Ho-Oh: And you there, Misdreavus — your angle seems a bit off, doesn't it?
Ho-Oh: ...Well. In a past era, a build like that would have made him an excellent chieftain.
"Mai mai~" Misdreavus got scooped up into Ash's arms, lathered up with body wash, and the mutual scrubbing commenced.
"Wash, wash, wash~ wash, wash, wash~ ohh oh~"
"Mai mai~ mai mai~ mai mai~"
"Wash, wash, wash~ wash, wash, wash~ ohh oh~"
"Mai mai~ mai mai~ mai mai~"
Ash scrubbed Misdreavus while humming to himself. Misdreavus hummed along happily in return.
Of all his partners, the only one who could still share a bath with Ash now was Misdreavus.
Pikachu preferred to bathe alone these days. A little too independent for its own good.
And Pikachu's idea of bathing was more of a quick rinse anyway — practically just a splash of water and done.
Pidgeotto — well, Pidgeot now — used to be perfectly happy being held and bathed. But with its new wingspan, the bathroom just didn't have the room anymore.
As for Charizard — it had never much liked water to begin with.
And Gyarados? An enormous serpentine dragon of that size could only be hosed down outside with a water cannon. A proper bath was out of the question.
The night grew deeper, and the Fuchsia City Pokémon Center settled into a gentle, drowsy quiet.
____
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