"Okay," Poppy nodded, half-understanding.
She peered up at Jason. "So where are we doing special training? Here?"
She glanced down the not-so-wide hotel corridor—hardly the place to let her partner haul out that gigantic hammer.
Jason turned and called to the resting Gast, then said to Poppy, "Let's use the hotel's battle grounds."
The Orange Hotel's rooftop open-air arena—the rich person's playground. Meticulous lawn, horizon where city met sea, salt wind flicking the edges of parasols.
"C'mon out—my good friend!"
Jason eyed the petite figure shouldering a colossal iron hammer—Tinkaton—with wary focus.
"Oh? You really don't want me to command Tinkaton while it spars you?" a crisp, lazy child's voice floated from a lounge chair. Poppy sipped orange juice, watching.
"Mm." Jason opted not to let Poppy direct. Age aside—she was Elite Four. Her battle sense would be no joke. Letting her call the shots—he'd get crushed. He also wanted to test how far he was from E4-grade power now.
Poppy tilted her head, pure curiosity shining. She put out no aura—but the Tinkaton's mere presence weighed on Jason. So this is Elite pressure…
Tinkaton still looked sleepy. "Tinkaton, up," Poppy toe-tapped the hammer. "Go play with that Ditto. Easy."
Like telling a housecat to paw a yarn ball. Tinkaton cracked a yawn, hefted the wildly out-of-scale hammer, and lumbered to the line. One glance down at the Ditto—obvious boredom.
"Let's finish fast so I can sleep."
Other hotel guests drifted over—the sight of a Ditto vs. Poppy's Tinkaton irresistible. Those who'd noticed Jason training before hadn't dared approach with Cynthia and Garchomp around. With Poppy, the pressure ebbed.
"Isn't that E4 Poppy?"
"No way—an Elite, here?"
"Is this a battle or a coaching match…?"
"Whose Ditto is that? The blonde's?"
"Touch grass, bro—that blonde's the Sinnoh Champion. That Ditto's the talking Ditto blowing up the net!"
Light flared—Jason turned Riolu. Battle started.
Tinkaton moved—no roar, no flare—just a casual swing into Play Rough. The arc looked clumsy; the wind pressure sealed every dodge.
Jason's eyes sharpened—he dropped low and skimmed under the handle by a hair.
BOOM! The hammer cratered the turf.
"Now—Force Palm!"
Riolu slid to the side and chopped at the shin—thunk. Tinkaton didn't even sway—still half-asleep. Mosquito bite.
"The gap's huge."
"Can't even crack its guard."
"Elite schooling a newbie."
Jason tuned out the gallery. Defense is too high. But this power, this speed… it's still pulling punches and the pressure's like this… His mind raced; half a minute in, it became cat-and-mouse. Jason flickered and pestered with Vacuum Wave; Tinkaton herded with hammer swings—always cornering to the brink, always leaving a sliver.
It was toying.
Poppy's face never changed—just sipping juice. Jason knew he had to break it. On a dodge, he sold a flaw—hammer wind clipped him, his form wobbled toward a decorative rock. Tinkaton's eyes flashed "finish"—hammer rose.
Now!
Jason hit the rock—and melted into purple mist—Gastly. The swing cut through him with a whoosh and slammed empty turf. Tinkaton froze—looked at its hammer, then at the cackling Gastly—question mark forming.
Not so fun anymore.
"Confuse Ray!"
The invisible wave hit—Tinkaton's gaze went glassy; it staggered into wild swings.
Jason exhaled—thank goodness, not Own Tempo.
CRASH! A lounge chair exploded.
"Whoa!"
"What happened? Why's it hitting itself?"
Poppy finally set down her glass—leaned forward, for the first time surprised. "Eh? You confused Tinkaton? Perfect timing!"
Her eyes grew more curious. Normally, her Tinkaton wouldn't fall to that—but Jason's whiplash morphs were catching even her off guard.
"This Ditto's really interesting."
She still held back command. Jason wanted a wild-style bout; let it be. An Elite's partner needed to solve problems on her own.
Sure enough, after a few whiffs, Tinkaton stomped.
Stomping Tantrum—earth rose in clods, clinging to Gastly, outlining it.
Rock Tomb—the shattered decor boulder exploded; shards sprayed in a cage.
Thud thud thud! Ghost or not—rock hurts. Jason yelped and fell.
"It's over."
"Elites are built different."
Just as the crowd wrote the ending, Jason's voice cut through. "Not yet!"
Mid-fall, the Gastly reformed—red armor snapped on; cannons bloomed—
Armarouge. Heat rippled, air warped.
"Paldea-native?"
"Cool—what is that?"
A tourist lifted a phone to record. Poppy sat up straight. On the turf, the mood flipped. Tinkaton shed all play and irritability, pounded the hammer down with a low roar—serious mode.
"Armor Cannon!" Jason seized tempo—red spheres converged at the muzzles—blasted. Tinkaton didn't dodge—she roared and charged into it—
"Gigaton Hammer!"
Cannon met hammer.
KRA-KOOM! The rooftop shuddered; glass rails sang. Smoke rolled; Tinkaton skidded back meters—but stood firm. The fight went white-hot—Jason poured Flamethrower and Psyshock from range; Tinkaton barreled through again and again—lawn ripped, shrubs vaporized.
"Too intense!"
"This is coaching?"
In the scrum, Tinkaton found an opening—Fake Tears. A grating wail—Jason's Sp. Def reeled.
"Crap," Jason hissed. One beat was enough. Speed exploded—Tinkaton burst point-blank.
"Play Rough!"
The hit detonated on Armarouge—Jason flew, red plate cracking. Fairy is resisted—and it still hit like a truck… Elite indeed.
One hit—victory near. Tinkaton's eyes swaggered—then—
Midair, Armarouge's armor ignited purple—body turned lithe; blades of rancor flared—
Ceruledge.
"Again?!" gasped the crowd. Poppy gaped—that many forms? No wonder Geeta's invested.
Tinkaton blinked—battle habit snapped back: Whatever it is—hammer it. No waiting for orders; all power into one point—maximum Gigaton Hammer—and the longest end lag.
Jason had been waiting.
"Now!"
At the last blink, Ceruledge's body went ghostly—the hammer skimmed past—WHAM!—and left a crater. Tinkaton's one-second freeze—fatal. Ceruledge appeared at her flank; twin Bitter Blades crossed—
Zing! Twin gashes bloomed; stolen life mended Jason.
Burned and toyed with, Tinkaton snapped—eyes red, guard gone, all-in on Play Rough again.
Jason's answer was instant—Ceruledge flickered and vanished—leaving a petite violet bud—
Glimmet.
"He gave up?"
"Crazy—how does that stop a hammer?!"
Tinkaton even faltered for a hair—pride pulled a sliver of power—she didn't want to pulp a helpless little blossom. That mercy decided it.
WHUD! The hammer slammed Glimmet—dust billowed—as it cleared, the little bud trembled but stood. Toxic Debris triggered; purple Toxic Spikes bloomed under Tinkaton's feet.
Poppy shook her head. "Pointless on Steel—Tinkaton can't be poisoned. That's the difference between Pokémon and Trainers—knowledge begets options."
Cynthia held her tongue—she agreed in general—but this Ditto was Jason. Basic facts like Steel immunity? He knew.
Tinkaton tromped on the spikes—nothing. She looked at Jason with a taunt, stomped again.
Jason grinned—and fired Toxic.
"Why use Toxic when you know it won't work?" Poppy frowned—disappointed—then—
"Eh? How—?!"
"That's how—clever," Cynthia murmured, eyes bright. It had been a while since a sub-Elite fight thrilled her—Jason just did.
Poppy leaned forward, eager. "Why, big sis? How did my Tinkaton get poisoned?"
Cynthia opened her mouth—but pictured Jason's smug face—and closed it with a smile. "Because of Toxic—didn't you see?" Poppy pouted. "Don't tease—tell meee."
"If I tell, someone won't like it. Let Jason explain himself after the fight," Cynthia said.
"Mm, okay."
Tinkaton's HP started to melt—badly poisoned. "Not done yet!" Jason called. Glimmet flashed, burning the last of its light—Power Gem fired—pinpoint to the cross-wounds. Paired with Toxic, it tipped the giant—knees hit—clang—the hammer flew from her hands and thudded into the grass meters away.
[Defeated Tinkaton…]
[Tinkaton Dex +30%]
[Current Tinkaton Dex: 32%]
Dust thinned. The towering scrap-hammer lay quiet, far from its owner. Tinkaton knelt, breath ragged, staring at her empty hands—stunned. She had been disarmed. Might as well have lost.
Across, Jason deflated back to Ditto—spent—spreading into a thin pancake. But the win was his—in a way no one had expected.
"Wow! Jason—you're amazing!" Poppy shot in like a pink cannonball—first to Tinkaton, checking her arm, then to Jason, eyes sparkling. "You beat my Tinkaton! So, so amazing! Be my friend!"
Jason took it humbly—because he knew. The win was luck—plus Tinkaton holding back. Her speed, her force—she'd kept a lid on it. If she'd gone all-out? He'd have been a smear at minute one.
Still, the fight taught him the gap—and the power of "dirty" tactics. While he chastised himself, Cynthia's voice came warm from the edge. "No need to undersell yourself—you did great. However it came, the winner is you."
She knelt beside him, eyes full of approval. Her view of Jason had shifted. She'd known he was clever and special—but not how strong. With Garchomp and Lucario as "sparring," it was hard to gauge—those were teaching sessions, not true bouts. Today surprised her. From the first moment, he chose not to trade, but to skirmish—use speed to break rhythm; to read Rock sprays and take minimal chip; that Bitter Blade was genius. His energy pool was thin—that's why the win was close. But raw fighting sense like that? That's talent.
If she were scoring his command—full marks.
Poppy looked up, expectant. "What happened? Why could my Tinkaton be poisoned—will you tell me?" Jason smiled. "Corrosion—Glimmet's hidden trait."
Poppy's eyes flashed, then furrowed. "But—you're Toxic Debris—I saw the field full of spikes."
"Trade secret," Jason grinned. He didn't share that he could swap Abilities—proc Debris, then flip to Corrosion to land Toxic.
He glanced at Cynthia's wry smile; she chuckled. "I knew you were hiding something."
"Didn't sis see through it?" he teased.
"Of course. You hadn't told me—but it fit." He snickered. "No wonder we share a pillow—you read me in one glance."
"Watch it," she said—fondly threatening.
After a rest and water, Jason's strength trickled back. He turned—only to spot Gast drifting alone in a corner—dim. No zooming, no cheering—just head down.
He zipped over. "Gast—what's wrong? Sad?"
She lifted her eyes—loss bright in red. "Jason… I… I kind of miss Big Sis."
"Because of Tinkaton?"
"Mhm." She nodded. "I wonder how Big Sis and them are doing… will strong Pokémon bully them…"
Her voice wobbled. Far from home, seeing so many strong enemies—it was natural to worry. Jason patted her gaseous back. "Don't worry. Big Sis is strong—no one bullies them."
"And you're getting stronger, right?" he added. "When we're strong enough to travel anywhere easily—we'll go back and visit them."
Hope rekindled; she nodded hard. "Mm! Jason—let's get stronger!"
With Gast soothed and his own energy back, Jason looked to Poppy, fighting spirit rekindled. "Elite Poppy—let's—"
"—go again!"
Under Cynthia and Poppy's surprised looks, Jason rippled—this time Tinkatuff—smaller than Tinkaton, hammer in hand.
At that, Tinkaton's eyes turned serious. She felt the pure "hammer duel" intent. No more underestimating—she raised the iron hammer, full Elite strength unleashed.
The result was unsurprising—Jason lost cleanly. But each knockdown and stand-up taught him the hammer's ways—lessons more valuable than a single win.
By dusk the arena glowed orange; the last clang faded. The afternoon had been a Tinkaton clinic.
[Battled Tinkaton…]
[Tinkaton Dex +5%]
[Current Tinkaton Dex: 68%]
Jason let the form go—returned to Ditto—spent. He puddled into a gooey "pancake." Every inch of him protested. He had no strength left—but his spirit was bright. Day after tomorrow—Area Zero. Worth every ache. More Paradox beasts—more data—another leap.
He lay wrapped in the soft bed of turf—and his mind conjured another image—not Paradox, not battle—
A girl—her pendant.
~~~
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