"Listen, kid. Whatever the head of the family said, he said it angry. If you want to come home, come home." Enomoto's voice had gone serious.
"I said Champion. So it's Champion." Akiyama shook his head. "I believe in Gardevoir."
Enomoto started to say something, stopped, and said it anyway. "Winning the League this year would be a hell of a trick. The Master Ball's going to end up in his hands again. Just do your best and be okay with that."
Again?
Akiyama caught the word and held on to it.
So a former League Champion had entered this year. And a famous one, at that.
As for the Master Ball, that was the League Champion's real prize, the one thing besides the certification itself that you walked away with. In the Seichu region, that ball was the certification—the top of the ladder.
Trainers were ranked in five tiers: Rookie, Poké Ball, Great Ball, Ultra Ball, Master Ball.
Just like the games from his old life, funnily enough.
Above that there was nothing but the Elite Four and the Champion.
The whole system was crude and not always accurate—Pokémon battles turned on a hundred things besides raw strength—and only one Trainer a year could earn Master Ball certification. Reiji's Wailord, for instance, was flatly Elite Four material, maybe Champion material. But Reiji had never been certified at Master Ball level, so on paper he was still just an Ultra Ball Trainer.
Enomoto set both hands on Akiyama's shoulders. "I won't lecture you. You've been the smart one since you were little. Just don't chew on somebody's bad temper forever. He didn't mean it the way it came out."
"Okay. I'm out of here." She hopped back half a step, and the seriousness fell right off her face. "Come find me in Lightshade City sometime, would you? Actually, scratch that—you'll come. And when you do, you're going to be very surprised."
She turned, wrapped herself in her own power, and cut a line across the sky.
"Lightshade City? New venture, maybe?" Akiyama couldn't make it add up.
He glanced at the Kadabra standing quietly nearby. He'd assumed at first it was a new catch of his cousin's.
"You're him, aren't you? From the frontier."
Kadabra thought about it, then nodded.
For a moment neither of them said anything.
"Garde?"
Gardevoir looked between them, lost, and increasingly certain Akiyama was keeping something from her.
It's me, Kadabra said, straight into his mind.
"Thank you." Akiyama shook his head. "So what's your plan now?"
Kadabra didn't answer. He used Confusion to flip open Akiyama's backpack, floated out a Poké Ball, expanded it midair, and set it neatly in Akiyama's palm.
Ping.
Before Akiyama could react, Kadabra tapped the button with his spoon.
Red light. Kadabra was gone.
The ball wobbled twice and went still.
"…Did I just catch a Kadabra?"
Gardevoir stared at the ball in his hand, and whatever she was thinking, she kept it to herself.
He let Kadabra back out. Kadabra informed him he'd rather sit in the ball and work on Calm Mind. Akiyama recalled him.
"All right, Gardevoir. Greenlight City." He shrank the ball down, tucked it away, and took her hand.
Once he'd learned Greenlight was the closer city, he'd changed his heading.
Greenlight was home to the Bug-type Gym, one of the region's eight. The official material on its Leader was thin—only that he loved Bug-types with his whole chest, and that nobody in the region understood them better.
"Garde!"
She let the other thing go for now and fell into step beside him, into the trees.
.....
Team Rocket base.
A clawed hand reached out of the dark and took the fossil from Reiji.
"You're telling me someone siphoned off part of its power." The voice was low, unhurried.
Reiji kept his head down. "The failure is mine, boss. I identified the individual on the way back. The file's already on your phone."
Silence. Long enough that Reiji, who had personally sunk a cruise liner that night, began to shake.
"The Miki family's youngest, is it. Have Seiya test him."
"boss!"
"Get out."
"boss!"
When the door shut behind him, the lights went out, and the dark got deeper.
"Interesting. Part of the Aura, and a sliver of the fantasy energy… meow." The glowing eyes in the dark scanned the readouts with something close to delight.
"No matter. My plan does not fail over a scratch like this."
The voice hardened.
"One day I'm going back. Meow."
.....
Elsewhere, Akiyama walked a trail carpeted in dead leaves, Gardevoir's hand in his.
Then he heard it—the unmistakable racket of a battle. He parted the brush and looked.
A Pikachu was zigzagging across a clearing, dodging powder that drifted down from above.
Akiyama traced it up. A Butterfree hung there on beating wings, dusting the whole area with Stun Spore.
He frowned and backed off a few steps, out of the drift.
Pikachu's Trainer was locked in on the fight and never noticed the two extra people at the tree line.
Well. Two. Gardevoir counted.
"Nice dodge, Pikachu! Now hit it with Quick Attack!"
Pikachu nodded, dropped to all fours, tore across the grass, and launched.
Butterfree beat its wings once, lazily, and became four of itself.
Double Team.
So what's your answer to that? Akiyama wondered, watching the girl.
"Pikachu, stop—Thunderbolt!"
"Pika… CHU!"
A short wind-up, and electricity blew out of him in a flashing web. The copies popped one after another until only the original was left.
The Thunderbolt was a heartbeat from landing when a transparent shield snapped up and swallowed it whole.
Protect.
"Huh." Akiyama's eyes lit up. "That's no ordinary Butterfree."
In this world a Pokémon could learn moves that back home only came off a teaching machine. It just took a lot more work.
The girl's eyes lit up too. "Pikachu, go in—Volt Switch!"
Thud.
Pikachu slammed into Butterfree, red light closed over him, and he was back in his ball.
What came out in the swap was a Larvesta.
It landed in the grass looking half asleep, and the weeds around it curled black in an instant.
"Larvesta, Fire Spin! Then—"
After that the fight had no suspense left in it. Butterfree, already worn down, dropped out of the flames and onto the dirt, and a Poké Ball bounced off its wing.
Three wobbles. Caught.
"Finally!" The girl sprinted over, snatched the ball up, and thrust it toward the sky in a pose that was pure, unfiltered anime.
Looks like Ash, Akiyama thought.
"Eh?"
She turned—and noticed him standing there.
A second later she registered exactly how she was standing, and color climbed into her face.