"Gyarados—"
"Rooaar—"
Gyarados let go with everything he had, throwing up wave on heavy wave and catching the Ursaring in the middle of them, then froze the whole thing solid in an instant, leaving a huge mould of ice with the water still curled inside it.
"Crackle—"
Cracks opened in the ice, one after another, until they covered the whole of it, and then it burst apart with a roar. Ice chips rained down, and the Ursaring inside came down with them and lay still.
They had run into this Ursaring on the way through. It was no weakling either — a level 43 Elite-class Pokémon.
This time it was Gyarados who had gone forward and dealt with it alone, and after a certain amount of work he had beaten the Ursaring.
At any other time Gyarados might have been pleased with that, but with Slaking's performance still fresh in front of him he did not feel particularly pleased at all.
There was a pressure on him as well. He needed to break through to Elite, and soon.
Otherwise his place as boss would not hold.
If he faced Slaking now, instinct told Gyarados he could not beat him. He did not much like admitting it, but he truly could not, and the gap between them was wider now than it had been on the day Slaking was caught.
A Poké Ball went out and drew the Ursaring in. It put up not the slightest resistance and the catch took. Once again it was Combusken who appeared, picked the ball up and trotted over to Vance with it.
Vance took the ball and went across to Gyarados.
"What are you thinking about, Gyarados?"
Vance waved a hand in front of him, breaking into his brooding.
"Ah — nothing. A small idea that just came to me, that's all."
Gyarados laughed it off, casting about for a reason that would get him past the question.
But Vance had raised Gyarados with his own hands. The moment he lifted his tail, Vance knew exactly what he was about to drop. Was that shabby bit of acting going to get anything past him?
"Is it that Slaking evolved and his strength shot up, and now you feel the pressure?"
"What — I'm not, I haven't, don't talk nonsense."
Gyarados fired the whole lot off at once to make clear that he had not.
"You... fine. If you haven't, you haven't. The order between you was settled long ago, wasn't it? What's there to feel pressured about?"
Vance could not help saying it. Slaking was no longer the troublemaker he had been when he was first caught; after a while living alongside them he had no interest in fighting Gyarados over the so-called position of boss, and hadn't the matter been settled the last time?
So what was Gyarados carrying on about now?
"Hmph. I'm not having another Pokémon sleep soundly at the side of my own bed."
Gyarados snorted it out.
"Hm? Since when do you read books, Gyarados? No — since when did you get this well educated?"
Vance said it in surprise.
"In any case, I'm not going to slack off. I may be a little behind now, but I'll catch up soon enough."
Gyarados said it with great ambition. Slaking's strength had sharpened the pressure on him considerably, and at the same time it had him wondering whether he had been letting himself go.
Gyarados had his own pride. He could bear being a little behind Slaking, but not far behind, and at present he was far behind — far enough for Slaking to beat him — so he meant to pull himself up.
"All right then. A bit of urgency is a good thing. But there's no need to put that much pressure on yourself, Gyarados. Slaking isn't an enemy."
Vance put in the reminder.
"I know, boss. I know where the line is," Gyarados answered.
"Good. Come and eat first."
Vance nodded and turned to walk off.
*It's precisely because he isn't an enemy that I can't be that much weaker. It would be humiliating.*
Gyarados followed along behind, thinking it to himself.
"That pride of his."
Vance shook his head. With Gyarados in this state, all he could do was talk him round and then back him.
Pokémon were like that. They listened to their Trainer, but they had ideas and characters of their own, and a stubborn side of their own.
A Pokémon is not a machine that only obeys every word its Trainer says. They are living things.
"Ahh, so sleepy. There really is nothing like letting yourself go to seed."
Sprawled on the ground where he had given up on the world, Slaking opened his eyes and yawned.
With the Truant Ability on him all he wanted was to lie there. Sleep really was comfortable, and he was becoming rather addicted to it.
"Rooaar—"
Seeing Vance and Gyarados coming over, he managed a greeting of sorts and meant to go back to lying there and sleeping; but a glance sideways caught the marks on Gyarados's body, and he shook his head with a laugh and went back to doing nothing.
If it was only Elite-class, then unless Vance called him he would not lift a finger. They were all the same, and there was nothing in it.
"Eat something first. We can get through here today and reach Cerulean City."
Vance set food down in front of each of the Pokémon and mentioned it in passing.
It had been several days since they left Mt. Moon, and in that time Vance and his Pokémon had been threading their way through open country, challenging any suitable Pokémon they came across.
He now had seven Elite-class Pokémon in hand. Three of them Slaking had beaten, another three were Gyarados's, and the last one was Aerodactyl's.
At level 23 Combusken was still short of it and could not take part in Elite-class fights. He would have to wait.
Gyarados had been very keen these past few days, and as far as Vance could see he had fought well; it was only Gyarados himself who thought it was not enough.
After the meal they made a circuit of the area and met no Elite-class Pokémon, though there were some of Advanced strength about, so Combusken was sent out.
It went like a broom through dry leaves. Combusken beat an opponent a rank above him without any trouble at all.
Combusken, Gyarados and the rest of them all held the same view: fighting above your rank was simply what you did, and not being able to do it was something to be ashamed of.
Standing on Aerodactyl's back, he flew out of the endless forest and over a plain, and in the distance the outline of a city could be seen.
On his belt, inside his Poké Ball, Gyarados was resting, and somewhere in the haze of it he was having a dream.
In the dream Slaking threw up an arm and called out, "Gyarados has grown weak; Slaking must take his place. The boss will be decided today," and then, in front of everyone, beat him easily,
and so became the big brother of the team; and after that he rose so fast that Gyarados fell further and further behind, straining after him and able to make out nothing but a blurred back.
His body jerked and Gyarados came awake, his heart still thudding.
*That dream was too real. No. I, Gyarados, will not end up the way it went. Restoring the glory of the big brother is a duty I can't shirk.*
Vance noticed none of this. He came down on the outskirts of Cerulean City and then went on into town.
Inside Cerulean City things had largely been put right again, and the marks of the Team Rocket attack had all been repaired.
The streets were full of people coming and going, with stalls down both sides selling snacks and Pokémon supplies, and no small crowd pressing around them.
Cerulean City had its old bustle back. Whatever the Team Rocket attack had done to it had been wiped away by Lance's ferocious counterstroke.
"Combusken—"
It was Combusken at Vance's side again. The other two stayed in their Poké Balls on account of their size, and Slaking could not be bothered to come out and was busy doing nothing at all.