Chapter Three: Bittern Peak
Part 1: Kukui
The conversation always starts simply enough. Your Ph.D in Pokémon Studies comes up. They are suitably impressed and ask: What do you study? You say: Moves.
What follows is predictable, too. Their face shifts down into some mix of pity, scorn and disbelief. And you get it: Pokémon Studies encompasses extraterrestrial biology, regeneration of lost limbs within a week’s time (sometimes much less), invasive species, and husbandry of species domestic and exotic. Steven Stone did his rather famous dissertation on the taming of metagross, setting a whole new bar for pokémon research. Yours was on primarina songs. They’re incredibly fascinating, but you don’t have an alien spider capable of shredding buildings to show for it.
That’s why the average trainer, the sportsmen, are unimpressed. The academics hear you say the word “moves” and assume you’re just a slightly more educated sportsman. Which might be true. You were a trainer before you were a researcher and you’re pretty sure your team could wipe out anyone else’s at the last seven conferences you went to. (Dr. Stone had been at the one before that.)
Yet pokémon moves seem to be a field that no one’s studied because everyone thinks that everything is known. Truth is, you’re pretty sure that no one knows anything.
There are two types of moves: innate and conditioned. Innate moves are tricks and powers that pokémon have based on their anatomy. Even if they break known physics a little bit to pull it off, there’s at least a clear organ doing the physics-breaking and an evolutionary purpose for it. Ninetales blizzards, snorlax body slams, primarina songs, magnezone thunderbolts.
Conditioned moves don’t seem to have any clear causation but some pokémon can use them anyway. Sometimes even almost all members of a species can use a trick they shouldn’t be able to pull off. Lycanroc stone edges are the conditioned moves you’ve studied the most. Weird thing is, conditioned moves seem to look the same across species. A machamp raised in Johto will use stone edge about the same way as a lycanroc that’s never left Alola. Dr. Michael Esprit and his daughter proved that most pokémon use roughly the same brain patterns for conditioned moves, even if their nervous systems are radically different.
That’s the scientific background on moves. Truth is, you’re also quite fond of the practical application of them. You think that movepools can predict a battle’s winner more reliably than experience or skill can. That goes triple for low-level battles where movepools are shallow enough that it’s hard to improvise.
Take today’s battle: an Alolan vulpix against a dratini. One trainer’s literally blind and she’s not giving any commands, but that barely even matters. Dratini led off with a thunder wave, which is one of the more useful utility moves. Slows down a single opponent and makes stalling them viable since eventually you will get a free turn to exploit. Also knocks most birds right out of the air.
Unfortunately, dratini doesn’t have another good move to capitalize on the opening. It slithers forwards to use wrap (you suspect that’s an innate move, but all wraps look about the same to you and you’ve never done much research on dragons). Wrap + Thunder Wave would ordinarily be a pretty good combination, but vulpix also has two moves and both are very good counters to the strategy. Powder snow snipes dratini once or twice as it approaches. But even if dratini starts to constrict vulpix, which appears to be its only way of doing damage, then vulpix can just rely upon her innate talent to freeze the air around her. That forces dratini off, or at least hurts it more than its hurting vulpix. Herps, especially dragons, hate weaponized cold. Type-advantage isn’t really a thing, at least not to the degree the average trainer thinks it is, but anatomic weaknesses are very real. Even if the dratini stayed on, you’re pretty sure vulpix has roar. You’ve done field work on vulpix (and raised a ninetales of your own) and most juveniles with a branching seventh tail know roar (or, at least, will learn roar if they’re ever stressed enough to need it – another thing no one quite understands). Roar can force the dratini off and stop it from doing damage. It’ll slither forwards, get hit with another powder snow or two, repeat.
There was only ever one outcome once you knew the species and the moves. Maybe if both pokémon were more experienced dratini could’ve mixed in projectile attacks and kept things interesting—maybe fire attacks could be used to melt the ice enough to create a slippery battlefield, helping out the mostly-aquatic herp. On balance, a more experienced vulpix could start throwing confuse ray and disable around to disrupt complex plans, bringing things back to pure type-advantage. But a dratini with substitute could avoid most of the disruption in turn. But icy wind would hit broad and hard enough to negate substitutes, unless the vulpix knew ice shard instead which would allow for fast strikes before substitutes formed. Agility on either side could make it harder to land projectiles and—
*
You can appreciate the theatrics of the scene. The last glimmers of the sunset reflected over the water fifty feet below. Tiki torches lining a circle with a small, smoldering fire at its center. Four people sitting around it. Genesis is crouched awkwardly on a tripod trying to figure out what to do with her legs. The boy has a nicer leaning chair-type contraption (note to self: learn formal name) and is tipping himself almost perilously far back in it. The other girl is just sitting on the ground like the cold, hard earth doesn’t bother her at all. It apparently bothers her vulpix as she’s being quite particular about not letting any part of her body fall off her trainer’s lap and on to the ground.
And then there’s Weiss. Thank the gods he’s not pretentious enough to wear a suit in a situation like this. It was the one thing that dampened his star as a kid when you religiously watched every episode and rerun of the show back when it was still on PBS. Before privatization and Kanto and the subsequent renationalization.
Weiss is still a little overdressed with a fleece vest and a button up that has to be way too hot to tolerate, day or night. Doesn’t seem to bother him, though. He keeps up a friendly smile and leans slightly forward on his stool. It’s a good habit for working with kids. Never, ever let them think that any part of the journey sucks, because then it’ll get in their head and you’ve lost them, maybe for good.
There’s a gaggle of cameramen and boom operators and spectators around the scene, all trying to stay just out of the shot. You’re standing next to Asuka, your fellow Route 1 researcher. She’s been avoiding you all day, lurking in the wings of every space with an ever-present glower. Asuka’s bad with kids. Human kids, anyway. Best you’ve ever seen with kittens.
Weiss clears his throat, waits a few seconds and speaks. “This will go about the same as last time back in Iki Town. I’ll say some things you already know and then tell you a few things you don’t. How long the round is, what you have to win or lose, any rules changes. Any questions before we start? I think the crew will need another minute to set things up.”
None of the kids respond verbally. Genesis crosses her legs and shoves her clasped hands down between them. Nervousness? You’d swear Valentina was asleep if it wasn’t for her hand occasionally moving to stroke her vulpix. Impossible to tell if her eyes are open behind her glasses. Would that even mean anything? Do blind people just keep their eyes closed all the time? Or sleep with their eyes open? Kekoa leans forward a little bit and balances the chair. He seems the most likely to speak but in the end he doesn’t. Weiss lets the question die in the evening air.
“Ready to film.”
Weiss looks back at the cameraman and flashes a thumbs up.
“You kids ready?”
He gets a half-hearted yeah and mmm-hmm.
“Valentina, you ready?”
She perks up and her vulpix flicks a tail against her chest. “I said yes.”
“Alright. Just didn’t hear it. Let’s begin in three, two, one.
“It’s the end of day twelve, start of Round 2. That means that the tutorial phase is over and you’re free to split up and head out on your own if you’d like. And, while it’s not exactly a rule change, something happened you should know about. Captain Illima is stepping down. A new captain will take his place in the next few weeks. To give both you and her time to prepare for the trial, Round 2 will run through the end of Day 41. That gives you a full thirty days from the end of Round 1 until the rules and prizes will change on you. Oh, and while you’re allowed to split up, I ask that you stay on Melemele for now. Wouldn’t do to take things too fast.
“Now, prizes. We’re taking the reward for winning a trial or grand trial all the way down to $100 for now. Another incentive to take things slow. The big prize and punishment will be entirely up to the audience at home. After Episode 5 airs on Day 35, we’ll run another poll. Whoever comes on top wins the round. Whoever comes on bottom, loses. You all have different prizes to gain should you win. Kekoa, you will win a Mega Stone. They’re not popular in Alola and you’ll need a much higher license to use it, but it will be another power-up at your disposal. Genesis, you will be freed from the restriction imposed at the end of this round. Valentina, you’ll win a Z-Ring, same as last time.
“If you lose, you all face the same consequence: no Pokémon Center stays. And before you ask, no, that doesn’t apply to your pokémon. Just you. It means that if you want to spend a night in the great indoors you’ll need to fork over the cash. And since cash isn’t going to be freely flowing this round, that could be a pain at the start of the next one. Now, if you win a challenge this round you can just hand over that prize and the round winner will receive that instead of what they could win. Genesis, prizes held in trust will count for preventing a loss and the winner will receive it immediately. But you’d have to wait to get the one passed your way.
“Now, any further questions?”
The kids shift a little bit as the monologue ends. Valentina leans back and braces herself with her hands. Genesis uncrosses her legs. Kekoa leans forward into a less relaxed position.
“That’s a long time without a shot at prize money,” Kekoa notes.
Weiss cracks the same smile he’s worn for over two decades.
“Get a job, kid.”
*
Just as you reach the Pokémon Center, Kekoa steps out into the morning air. He has a leash in hand with his rockruff on the other end of it, pulling a little bit harder than she probably should. Rockruff aren’t exactly the tamest canines in Alola and nowhere near the calmest. You’d have personally gone with lillipup as a service dog, but you trust Asuka’s methods.
“Hey,” you call out and wave your arm. Not like he’d really miss the 6’ guy wearing shorts and a lab coat.
“Hey,” he responds. A man with a handheld camera steps out of the Pokémon Center during the awkward pause. Huh. You hadn’t figured they’d film him literally walking his dog, but you suppose that as a kid it was the mundane husbandry parts that you liked the most, and that means they have to film mundane husbandry.
You smile. “Mind if I join you on your walk?”
He shrugs. “Sure.”
You follow him down the path. It winds through the small grove by the Pokémon Center and off towards the cliffs. The path itself is hard stone, polished down by weathering or man. The majority of Bittern Peak Commonwealth Park is weathered rock surfaces for ecology reasons you aren’t sure you’ll ever really understand. Something about wind, rain and mountains.
The government makes a point of keeping the paths near the bay smooth for tourists. Not that there are any now. Not quite tourism season and the island challenge season won’t start for another few weeks. It’s pretty empty now beyond a few people by the guardrails talking and taking pictures. Probably just Hau’oli residents out for a quick getaway.
“I’ve trained a few rockruff before, y’know?”
“It’s not that hard.”
“Actually, rockruff are very hard. Part of their typing.”
Kekoa groans and you suppress a smile. If the kids think you’re uncool, that makes them feel a little bit cooler. And they need the self-confidence boost more than you do.
“I know that. Makes her hard to pet.”
“So, you do want my advice?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Now you smile for real. “’course you didn’t. But if you did, their ears aren’t too hard and have a little hair on them. Best place to scratch. Never pet from head to back, as that means running your hand over the collar.”
He doesn’t answer for long enough that you move your gaze away from him and back to the bay.
“Thanks.”
“No problemo. Anything else you don’t want advice about?”
Kekoa kicks a pebble. Away from the cliffs, thankfully. Could be dangerous if there was anyone down there, unlikely as that is at this point of the day and year.
“How do I get a higher license?”
“Get ready to read a lot more. It’ll be about the same as your Class I exam, just with harder questions. Some specifics for random species that need a Class II. Why they’re classified like that, how you care for them, all that. Those’ll really only be for the common ones. Some more difficult questions about protected habitats, battling rules, training methods for whole classes like insects or birds. Asuka can give you more detailed information. Might be worth getting a Class II and starting your Class III while you have some downtime.”
“Yeah. I was thinking about putting most of my time into that and just coasting on Diana for a while if I have to fight. Go into Akala able to catch the good stuff.”
“Not sure I’d go against Hala with only a rock-type.”
He frowns and averts his gaze. “…I’m figuring that out.”
“Bunch of migratory birds in the park this time of year. Bittern peak, the rookeries, the meadow, even the caves all have flying-types. The birds have babies, too, some of which are Class I. Or there are some shorebirds around here if you’re more into that.”
“Like?”
“Delibird, spearow, wingull, psyduck, pikipek and zubat are all Class I. Vullaby, oricorio, hawlucha, noibat and rufflet are all Class II if you want to hang around Route 3 for a while longer. I’d recommend any of the Class IIs, pikipek or the bats. Psyduck can work out if you’re very patient, though.”
Kekoa steps up to the guardrail and leans forward on it. You can’t see his expressions like that but aren’t sure whether you should step forward yourself or not.
“Could I catch a delibird and then just adopt it out after the grand trial?”
Yup. You’re going to step forward.
“It’s legal. It’d work. But if you’re trying to patch up your image, it might not go over well. Feels wrong to tear a pokémon away from its current life just to throw it away a few weeks later.”
He looks at you. You can tell he was going to glare but caught himself just before it came out, making his eyes cast mixed signals. He tears his gaze away almost as quickly as he established it.
“Yeah. I guess.” He pauses for almost a full minute and begins drumming his fingers on the metal. “Messed that up. Never thought they’d put it on camera.”
You gently push yourself off the rail, walk over and put a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re thirteen. You made a mistake. It’s part of growing up. Just apologize and then act like you meant it until everyone forgives or forgets. Trust me, better in the long run.”
Kekoa steps back and glares at the camera.
“They’re going to televise that, too. They want us to, I dunno, bond with each other, but then they go and make that impossible. Only thing we can afford to be honest about are our pokémon.”
You’d never really thought about that in decades of watching the show. How airing live and letting viewers affect things in almost real time, the exciting parts of the show, would affect the people on it. The people your age at first.
“They give you a therapist, right?”
“Yeah. She was gone when the episode aired, got back two days ago…”
“I think that’s your safe place to vent. I wouldn’t get in a habit of trash talking your teammates anyway. It feels good in the short term but it doesn’t solve anything.”
Kekoa starts walking forward and his rockruff almost immediately pulls the leash taut again.
“I’ll think about it.”
It’s a start.
*
You find Genesis at the trial site. She’s sitting cross-legged with her eyes closed by the water. There’s a cameraman standing silently at the clearing’s edge.
You aren’t sure if it’s rude or profane to break her meditation. Thankfully she hears your steps and turns around on her own.
“Oh! Hi, professor. Sorry I didn’t approach you yesterday but everything was kinda stressful and—”
You dismiss her with a wave of your hand.
“You’re busy. I understand. You don’t have to apologize about it.”
“Sorry.”
You smile and begin to fold your legs so you can sit down. The stone is damp and still cold from the morning air and the breath of Seaward Cave.
“So how have you been?”
“Ok. Um, the show’s… progressing. Won a trial two days ago, (lost a battle yesterday, she mutters), Joshua’s fine… oh, and thank you for the help studying. For him. I appreciate it.”
The dratini pokes his head above the water’s surface at the mention of his name and swims to the edge before hauling himself up and slithering over to Genesis. You aren’t terribly familiar with snakes and the ripple of his muscles beneath is skin is equal parts fascinating and primally unnerving.
“He seems to like you.”
“He certainly likes crawling on me.”
“I think that means affection.” You glance back at the cameraman. The question you want to ask, how she’s
feeling rather than how the quest is going, might not be fair to ask her when the answer could very well end up on a television screen in her parent’s living room. Kekoa and Valentina at least don’t have to worry about that specific problem, morbid as that advantage may be. “I actually wanted to talk about your license.”
“Is something wrong?”
You shake your head.
“No. Opposite, really. The other two have a Class I license right now, which is lower than I’d like. I typically encourage new trainers to have at least a Class II when they set out, but most just get the one they need for their starter. I’m asking them to study while there’s downtime, but you don’t really have to. Class III is perfectly normal for finishing the entire island challenge. So, we can talk about new pokémon.”
Genesis fidgets and her dratini tightens his grip.
“Assuming you want new pokémon.”
“What’s the new captain’s deal?” She asks the question and then immediately frowns. “That could’ve been worded better.”
You ignore the apology.
“Her name’s Lucy. She’s a psychic specialist who’s going to run her trial out of Ten Carat Hill. Just finished her island challenge a few months ago.”
Genesis bites her lip. “And we won’t have the option of challenging together?”
“Probably not. But there’s always a chance she goes along with it.”
“Then I guess I should pick up a dark-type.”
“That was going to be my advice.”
Genesis leans back and spreads her arms out to catch her weight. Dratini nearly slips off but adjusts himself at the last moment before anything but the tip of his tail can hit the ground.
“I’m not from Melemele. What dark-types are there here?”
“Well, if you’re staying in the area I’d recommend picking up a vullaby. It’s easiest to stick to one general type of pokémon so you don’t have to think of new strategies for every team member, can reuse TMs and don’t have to manage six radically different care styles. And flying is one of the best types to specialize in. Mandibuzz are really bulky to go with your eventual dragonite, and fly stall is one of the best styles. Downside? Vullaby take forever to really grow up. Maybe longer than the island challenge to evolve. So, combined with dratini…”
“I would be at a disadvantage until the very, very end?”
“Pretty much.”
She sighs and sits back up. Slowly enough that dratini can roll with the movement.
“Any other dark-types?”
“Of course. There are probably inkay right here in the bay at this time of year. Hypnotists and tech fighters, but malamar can pack a punch when used properly.”
“Can I really hypnotize psychics, though?”
“Maybe not. You’d just spam dark attacks with your inkay for now. The tech stuff is for later.”
“…I think I’ll pass. I kind of want a normal, soft mammal.”
Yeah. You get that. Your braviary, magnezone and primarina are wonderful, but the former two aren’t cuddly and the latter really shouldn’t be cuddling mammals.
“Well, there’s a zorua pack roaming Route 1 these days, usually around the residential parts. Might be hard to find them but if you split off from the group or convinced them to head back south you’d probably come across one by the time the round ended.”
“Zorua are the things the Mormons use, right?”
“Different subspecies, but yes.”
She frowns. “I think I’ll pass.”
“Well, always meowth. Nanu swears by the things as starters.”
“I’ve heard they’re mean.”
“I think there’s a meowth type of person, y’know? Might not be you. And that’s fine. The island challenge isn’t so difficult that you have to use pokémon you don’t like to win it.”
There’s a long pause before she asks another question
“Any other dark-types?”
“Well, I guess there’s grimer. Helps your dratini’s fairy weakness, has its one weakness covered in turn. Not a bad core for a team and sets up an amphibious theme. Lets you fight on land or water. More important here than most other regions.”
“Grimer, huh?” The idea gets a smile out of her.
“You wouldn’t have to touch it much. Not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.”
“What would my parents say if I brought a muk home?”
You shrug. “They aren’t here now. Your journey, your team, your choice.”
Genesis glances at the camera. You’ve heard her apologies about not being good with communication, but you understand the look. ‘That’s not entirely true and you have to know that.’ You do know that. But sometimes you have to tell kids little lies because they deserve not to know the full truth.
“Thank you,” she says, and you aren’t sure if she means it.
*
You knock thrice on the door.
“May I come in?”
There’s a rustling on the other side, a pause, and the sound of some object moving along the door. Then it opens.
You have to look down to see her. The girl’s hair is a mess covering half her face and she’s facing straight forward into your chest.
“Hey, there! Can I come in!”
She adjusts her head upwards so that her gaze almost reaches yours. She’s not wearing her everpresent shades so you can actually see her face which is… really red and puffy right now. Either her sickness got worse or lighting and makeup did more for her than you’d thought possible yesterday.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Professor Kukui. I’ve been around set the last few days,” although, you suppose, she’d spent most of that time in bed, “and I’ve just been going around to talk to each of you about your next steps.”
“I’m… sorry. But ‘professor,’ that means…?”
“Doctor. Not in the medical sense; I study pokémon. Pokémon moves. I give out starter pokémon, help new trainers get into things, sometimes escort Melemele kids around on their island challenge.”
There’s another pause as she considers you. Not… visually, of course, but you get the impression she’s still looking at you and absorbing information in her own way.
You don’t like it.
“Come in.”
Valentina takes a few measured steps back and extends her arm. She arches her feet and pivots, hand still extended (raised out and up, which looks unfortunate and you aren’t sure if you should tell her that) before finally striking her hand against the top bunk of her bed. Then she slowly steps forwards, turns around, listens to her vulpix bark (presumably to signal that the fox is not about to be crushed, which come to think of it must happen sometimes) and then slowly sits down on her bed. The sheets are tossed and wrinkled and you get the impression between everything that you’ve just woken her up from a nap.
Not a great move, but you also aren’t sure if there was going to be a better time today to talk to her. You’ll make it quick, though. You sit down on the bunk across from her. She has a wing to herself. Probably for health reasons.
“So, thinking about getting any new pokémon?”
“Not really, no. Pixie doesn’t want friends and so long as she keeps winning the battles she has to, I won’t get her one.”
“I have a ninetales and I think I can say that all vulpix are like that. They don’t mind team members already on the time when they join, but they’re almost never fond of newcomers. Territorial pokémon express it in different ways, and that’s how they go about it.”
Valentina crosses her legs and folds her arms. It’s not quite the same as how Genesis does it. Valentina seems to squeeze into herself as tightly as she possibly can. Makes her look even smaller than she actually is.
“How’d you solve it?” she asks.
You laugh.
“I didn’t. She was the last pokémon I added to my main team. She’d probably flip out if I tried to add anything new, except maybe a male ninetales. I think she wants pups at her age and evolutionary stage. She’s sort of in a relationship with my lycanroc, but she won’t actually mate with anything but another ninetales so…”
Maybe you shouldn’t talk about the particulars of pokémon sex on camera with a child you barely know.
“Do you know how other trainers do it?”
Her vulpix starts growling and she extends a hand to it, which the fox turns away from.
“Dominance. Vulpix are hierarchal in the wild. Usually a female team member either takes up a maternal role or beats the crap out of them once the vulpix crosses a line. After that they start to go along with what that pokémon, and thus the trainer, wants. For a starter… well, you’re a girl. I wouldn’t recommend trying to physically fight her, but if you kill her with kindness and enforce boundaries, maybe you’d get her to respect your maternal role. Eventually. Taming isn’t an art or a science so much as repeatedly doing something that sounds stupid and hoping it works.”
Valentina withdraws her hand from the vulpix and the fox shifts her eyes and ears to track it but otherwise acts like she never noticed it at all.
“So, are you feeling better than you were?”
“There are no cameras here. You can say what you want to.”
“Well, then. How are you feeling?”
She shrugs.
“I don’t like doing nothing. I want to leave soon.”
You smile, even knowing that it’s pointless.
“That’s the spirit! Now, you do know about Hala, right?”
“Hmm?”
“Hala. He’s the kahuna. You’re going to have to battle him at the end of the island. After you clear the next trial. He specializes in fighting-types. That’s not great news for a young vulpix.”
The vulpix fluffs up her fur and harumphs. She has spunk, even for her species. Unfortunately, confidence without power behind it is a good way to constantly wind up out of your depth.
“I’m just saying that if you do want to specialize in fairy-types, might be a good time to pick up one that already has the typing. You’ve got cutiefly, flabebe and cottonee in the meadow, if you want to stay here.”
“We’ve talked about it. Leaving for Bittern Peak soon.”
“Oh. When was that decided?” You’ve spent the morning moving between kids so you aren’t sure when they had time to conference each other from opposite ends of the area, or why neither Kekoa nor Genesis brought this up with you.
“This morning. By phone.”
Oh. Right. Phones. Duh.
“You were listing pokémon?”
“Yup! So, you’ve got the meadow fairies if you want to snag one up right now before you leave. They’re all common. Then you have mime jr. down in the Hau’oli area—they’re also psychic resistant, for what it’s worth. And if you managed to pull off a Class III license in the next month, which is difficult but possible, then there are mawile on the island. You’d need to actually beat the trial to catch one, and by that point it’s probably not going to be tamed by the time you fight Hala, but there’s always at least one in the shelters. People catch a cute pet and find out it bites, hard.”
There’s a pause.
“What is a mawile?”
Right. Not from here.
“It’s a bipedal steel-fairy-type. Main body looks humanoid and cute, but they’ve got a massive prehensile horn they use to hunt with. Sometimes begs for pets, bites its trainer’s hand and laughs.”
“Ok. And mime. jr.?”
This could take a while.
*
Bittern Peak changes as you climb. The base is forested. Not quite as dense as Routes 1 and 2, but it’s respectable. Some of the trees are big enough for a toucannon to nest in. Right above that is thin, scraggly forest. While escorting one boy or another around the islands (might’ve been Hau, come to think of it), you decided that it was the plant equivalent of a young teenager’s beard.
Those parts of the hike go fine. Valentina can’t carry gear, but the peak is a day hike anyway. Some mudsdale or a car or whatever are bringing it around for her. You’d offered, but then she’d try to take some anyway and Weiss had stepped in to keep stupid decisions from being made. Stupid decisions are part of the show’s appeal (it’s about kids who act like kids), but there are benignly stupid decisions (taping a crude drawing of some genitalia to Guzma’s wimpod) and really dangerous ones (taping a similar drawing to his golisopod—your arm still hurts if you press it at a certain spot from a certain angle).
What makes Bittern Peak really special though (aside from the caves) is the summit. The tallest vegetation disappears, not because of the altitude so much as weather, pokémon behavior and soil. The ground up there is a mix of giant grey boulders and ranger-carved paths past them. The wind begins to pick up with less vegetation and your lab coat begins to flap madly around you with enough power that it’d probably hurt to get slapped by it. But that’s not the real challenge of the peak. That’s at the very top.
The ascent to the Crow’s Nest (no honchkrow have ever been seen nesting there but the name’s stuck), that’s the tricky part. There are a handful of mid-sized stones here and there to use as footholds. But for the most part it’s a fifty foot near-vertical climb on pebbles and gravel that constantly give way every time they’re stepped on. Once you reach the base of the final climb you glance around at the kids (and cameraman), laugh, and take off running. It is best to do it fast because time spent still is time spent slipping. This isn’t your first or second or tenth time climbing the peak either, so you have a general idea what types of formations are your friend and which aren’t. Still, you’ve broken a sweat by the time you reach the top.
The top is a solid oval slab with occasional boulder outcroppings, but it has its own problem: it’s really, really windy. You’ve seen kids’ hats fly off and over the edge before they even notice. But if you can deal with that and the chill it brings, it’s one of the best sights on Melemele. There’s Valley Meadow below filled with yellow flowers. Then on one side of the peak is Route 3 and most of the park’s area, a barren and stony place with massive cliff faces. On the other side is Route 2, all vegetation and smooth beaches. Ten Carat Hill’s to the south looming up even higher than you are right now. And off in the distance is Hau’oli. It’s not a tall city, but you can still clearly see some of the buildings from here.
You turn back to the ramp up. Kekoa’s climbing after you and he’s… ok. He nearly slips once or twice, but he catches himself in the end and gets up. He goes a bit faster and more forcefully than you’d like and you think you see a stray pebble he kicks up nearly reach the bottom of the ramp once or twice. His rockruff is the opposite and climbs flawlessly like the path was just simple dirt.
You weren’t expecting quite as good of a climb from Genesis and, well, you’re right. She’s tall and young which means that her body’s done a lot of growing that her brain hasn’t quite had time to process. Her height at least helps in giving her fewer steps, but by the end she just gives up and crouches down to try and rock climb the wall like it was a vertical surface. It works, but it’s slow going. Slow, safe going. You’ll take it.
And then there’s—wait, you really hadn’t thought that one through. She starts anyway when Genesis reaches the top. You can see her pull the vulpix’s leash short, and the fox does fine on alpine surfaces but… she also probably has never had to guide a human up something like this. Around the quarter mark you hear Valentina scream like, well, a little girl. You watch as she loses her footing and slams down hard into the stone before losing half her progress in the ensuing pebbleslide. She tries to push herself back up but only succeeds in falling again and losing more ground.
You send out braviary.
“Pick her up.”
He looks around, finds his target and starts running… right off the opposite edge of the cliff face. Genesis cries out in shock but there’s nothing to be worried about. He’s just catching the wind. A second later he swerves around and swoops low to the earth. The vulpix screams (you’d swear screams are infectious today…) and starts shooting out ice but most of it goes wide in the wind. Braviary scoops Valentina up in his talons and swerves again to drop her off somewhat forcefully on the top of the peak. You give him a treat (and a reprimand on the force) and withdraw him.
Vulpix joins her trainer about ten seconds later, carrying a pair of glasses in her jaw. You hadn’t even seen those fall off her face.
Valentina bends down and picks the glasses up before wiping them on her shirt. She frowns, but goes forward and puts them on her face. The glasses are very visibly cracked. Not that it affects her vision, but it is distracting to look at. Her hands, arms and legs are also covered in tiny bleeding cuts. You’re torn between pulling out the first aid kit to disinfect and bandage every single one or just accepting that it would be futile.
Ultimately, you decide upon the latter plan. Weiss touches down on top of the peak less than a minute later and has his charizard swerve around to bring the cameraman up as well.
Once his dragon is withdrawn he turns to Valentina.
“What happened?”
“Fell.”
“I see.”
And that’s the end of that.
You glance around again on reflex and confirm that there’s no one else on the peak. Not this early in the morning during the off season. And you’ve already obtained permission to battle here. Now you just need to change into your mask and… there’s nowhere to change into your mask, is there? How are you supposed to fight a battle royale without the mask?
Fine. It doesn’t matter. The blind girl wouldn’t even notice it. Which is a shame because you think she could use cheering up.
“Alright. I know you’ve already fought one battle royale, but get ready for another (Woohoo!). You three against each other and me, one pokémon each.”
You pull the third pokéball to the left from your belt and release it, bracing for the shockwave as your snorlax materializes on the ground.
“Last one of you with a pokémon standing wins a shiny new pokédex. But, if you manage to trip up my snorlax—not even knock out, just trip up—the winner will get a rotodex instead. New model, sentient companion, step up in every way. So, any questions?”
“Yeah. Are you serious? Are we really going to fight that thing?” Genesis asks.
“What is it?” Valentina follows up.
“Yes, you are! He’s a snorlax. Big-eating bear pokémon and a normal-type! (Woohoo!)”
Kekoa whistles and his rockruff steps forward. He mumbles something but you can’t hear it over the wind. Valentina’s vulpix steps forward a moment later and Genesis sends out her dratini.
“Well! Let’s get this going in 3… 2… 1… Go!”
No one goes for a good fifteen seconds.
You see Kekoa’s mouth move but can’t hear the words, and a second later his rockruff comes charging through the wind and leaps up to hit… dratini. He attacks dratini. The rockruff grabs the snake in her mouth and starts shaking. Out of the corner of your eye you see another attack coming. Kekoa shouts “Throw her,” and his rockruff launches dratini into the air and right into an incoming powder snow. There’s an arc of lightning a moment later that goes from the snake to the attacking fox.
“Stop attacking me!” Genesis shouts.
“Some of us would like to win!” Kekoa replies, entirely missing all of the advice you’d given him.
“What’s going on?!”
They aren’t going to take down your snorlax. They definitely could have. Powder snow to make the rock slippery, sand attack to blind, thunder wave to paralyze. If they’d done all three you would have forfeited. But, as they continue to yell at each other over the wind, it doesn’t look like they’re going to make it happen. Now you have to attack, and anything you do is going to be a knockout. Even snorlax’s pulled punches
hurt.
If you have to take someone out of the match, well, Kekoa ignored your advice.
“Snore, IB, L1, TRockruff.”
The air on the mountain nearly goes still for a single second before a burst of ice fights its way across the wind to scrape against rockruff. And then the beam explodes into a barrage of icicles. Vulpix runs into one of them tongue out, the battle temporarily forgotten. Dratini tries to dodge them but ultimately gets pelted by a few. Rockruff winds up buried up to her chin in frozen and fused ice shards.
Kekoa summarily withdraws her.
It occurs to you a moment later that you’ve left a vulpix and a dratini out against each other. And, as you analyzed two days prior, there’s really only one way that fight can end. You could put your finger on the scale, well, put a snorlax on the scale, as it were. But the girl’s already having a bad day and Genesis doesn’t really need to study any further…
Valentina forfeits immediately after Genesis does.
*
She looks pretty miserable that evening. She finally washed the blood off her legs and got them taken care of, but there are still a few new stains and there are yellow bruises across her arms and knees. Didn’t seem like she hit the ground that hard. Must bruise easily. Either way, doesn’t look good for the camera. She’s sitting on her hammock when you find her and has either given up on the glasses or just doesn’t wear them in bed. Her vulpix, as always, is curled up in her lap.
“Hey, Valentina. It’s Kukui.” Asuka told you to say that to avoid a repeat of your first meeting and it seems like a good idea.
“Oh. Hello.”
She raises her head but her face betrays no emotion.
“I have your pokédex right here.”
You hold it out to her. She tepidly moves to take it but obviously can’t see where she’s taking it from. You go the rest of the way and place it into her hands. But you keep holding onto it yourself, finger hovering over a button.
“One thing to start you off: I need you to say your name, slowly and deliberately.”
“…Valentina…Cabello…”
The screen flashes red.
“Welcome, Valentina.”
That startles her and you have to strengthen your grip to keep the pokédex from falling. It wouldn’t break (the trainer models are stupid tough), but some models would and your reflexes are honed by paranoia and budget constraints.
“It talks?”
“Sort of. It’s not a full rotodex, but I got you one with voice controls. Can’t give you pictures but it has everything else. Now, let’s get you started. Say ‘load vulpix trainer guide.’ Nice and slow.”
“Load vulpix trainer guide?”
“Vulpix: an ice-type pokémon. Stage two of three.
“Overview: The Alolan ninetales is one of the most popular pokémon native to Alola for its aesthetics, lore and battle utility. However, they are notoriously moody creatures and make somewhat poor pets due to their temperament and care requirements. The trainers that do manage to tame them—”
“Say ‘pause.’”
“Pause.”
The pokédex stops talking.
“It has an article for every species commonly found in Alola. If you want the data for a species that isn’t, that can usually be downloaded at the bigger Pokémon Centers. Each article has a few different sections: Overview, Physiology, Behavior, Husbandry, Battle, Acquisition, Breeding and Subspecies. You can skip to any one of those sections. If you scan a pokémon it can pull up some data on it. It’ll pull up more data on pokémon that you own. You can also use it to make notes, pull up information on battle strategies and Alolan locations, download news and weather reports, a lot of things. Just say ‘load help menu’ if you need to know how to use anything.
“Oh, and one final thing. My anniversary’s tomorrow—”
“There’s, um, a word…”
“Congratulations?”
“I think so.”
You smile. “Thank you. I’m going to ride braviary over to Akala for the day and maybe the day after. What I was saying was, in the wild vulpix live with and are trained by their mothers. Yours might need to pick up some more moves if it’s going to win the next few trials, so I thought I’d leave my ninetales with you for a few days.”
“…that’s very nice of you. But, um, they… eat a lot, right? I don’t think I have the food.”
“Miss Mahi’ai has the food. You won’t have to pay for it.”
“Oh. Then, sure. I would like to meet your ninetales.”
You clap your hands and Valentina recoils. Crap.
“Perfect. Now, let me just…” Second ball to the right. “Kalani, come out!”
Kalani materializes in a burst of light. She’s standing on all fours, tails hoisted high off the potentially dirty ground. She shakes herself off and stretches out while she gets her bearings—and then she catches the scent of a vulpix. Kalani takes a few steps forward to the hammock, tails still held high, and stares in at the pup. The vulpix for her part takes a few steps out onto her trainer’s knees until their noses touch. Then Kalani lurches forward and gently wraps her jaws around the vulpix. The pup squeals in surprise as Kalani takes it and slinks into the forest.