home

search

Chapter 14 – Pokémon Battling 101 (4)

  Chapter 14 – Pokémon Battling 101 (4)

  “Not bad,” Jerry said as I returned to the sidelines. “Not every trainer can make a Pokémon they just met fight like that.”

  He gave a half-smile. “You didn’t just control him—you worked with him. Remember that.”

  I nodded, still catching my breath—not from exertion, but from the high of it all. The battle, the win, the fact that it hadn’t been just about commands or speed. It was connection. Trust. And it worked.

  I glanced down at Zigzagoon, who was still trotting beside me, chest puffed out like he’d just conquered the world.

  You earned it, buddy.

  The rest of the battles played out without much incident. A Meowth versus Skitty match drew a few laughs when Meowth darted around with slick combos, only to end up charmed, yawning, and asleep on the field after a single Sing. Cute didn’t always mean weak.

  As the final match ended, Jerry clapped his hands.

  “That’s all ten of you. Good work today.”

  He gestured for us to gather our things.

  “Let’s head back to Arena One. Instructor Jordan should be waiting.”

  We fell in line behind him, still buzzing from the battles. Zigzagoon walked close to my leg, glancing up at me now and then, like he wanted to make sure I was still proud.

  I was.

  *

  Back at Arena One, a few other groups had already returned. I spotted Irene among them, arms crossed, scowl in place. No sign of Flavio or Melody yet.

  As we waited, Jerry began collecting the rental Poké Balls.

  I crouched down next to Zigzagoon one last time.

  “You did great,” I whispered, scratching behind his ear. “Thank you.”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  He let out a soft bark and pressed his forehead into my palm.

  “I hope we get to battle again.”

  I stood up and reluctantly handed the Poké Ball back to Jerry.

  “Think we’ll see them again?” I asked.

  Jerry shrugged. “Maybe. Some of these guys rotate through the class. Could happen.”

  I gave the ball a final glance before letting go.

  *

  Once all ten groups had arrived, Instructor Jordan stepped forward, clapping sharply to draw our attention. His voice boomed across the arena.

  “All right, everyone—eyes up!”

  The chatter died immediately.

  “Let me ask you something: how did it feel? First real battles here at the Academy. Exciting? Stressful? A little of both?”

  A few chuckles, a few nods.

  “Now, I’m sure some of you are wondering—what’s the point? Why toss you into battle with unfamiliar, low-level Pokémon?”

  He paused, scanning the crowd.

  “Because that’s how we see what you’re really made of.”

  His tone turned more serious.

  “Out there in the real world, you won’t always have your ideal team. You won’t always have time to plan. What matters is how you think on your feet—how fast you adapt. How well you understand your partner, even if they’re new to you.”

  He let the silence hang for a moment.

  “You don’t win just by knowing movesets. You win by being in sync—with your Pokémon, and with the battle itself.”

  His words landed hard. Especially after what I’d just experienced with Zigzagoon.

  “This will be your weekly routine. Every Monday: a new Pokémon, a new match. You’ll be tested in ways you’re not expecting. But you’ll get better, faster, sharper. And by the end of the semester, you’ll be facing off in a class tournament. Top three get prizes—and bragging rights, of course.”

  Some students exchanged excited glances.

  Jordan grinned. “Oh—and everyone here earns five points for participating today. Winners get one bonus point. Rankings get updated every Sunday at 18 hrs.”

  That got a few gasps. The point system was no joke—every point moved you up in the standings.

  “Next week, you’ll get a document with the list of possible Pokémon you might receive. Study it. Prepare. The more you understand your options, the better your choices in the field.”

  He clapped once more.

  “That’s all for today. Class dismissed. I’ll see you all Friday.”

  A wave of chatter broke out as students began leaving the arena, already speculating about next week’s matches. I turned, scanning the crowd for Flavio and Melody—

  “Gabriel Santos.”

  Jordan’s voice cut clean through the noise.

  I stopped. Slowly turned.

  He was looking directly at me.

  “Please stay back a moment. I need a word.”

  A dozen pairs of eyes swung my way. I could feel it—the shift in the air. The quiet.

  Again.

  Just when things had started to feel normal, here I was being pulled aside. Again. A special moment. A different rule.

  I sighed and gave Flavio and Melody a subtle wave as they glanced back at me.

  Jordan approached, stopping a few steps in front of me. His expression was unreadable.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, turning to speak briefly with one of the assistants.

  And just like that, I was left standing alone, still in the middle of the field.

  The whispers weren’t loud, but I felt them.

  Legacy kid. Teacher’s pet. Must be nice to have connections.

  I clenched my jaw and stayed still.

Recommended Popular Novels