Ash's Story (Part 6: Unova)

Chapter 17: Worth the Fire

The next rest stop came into view before Virbank's smoke stacks did.

Astilbe Town sat along Route 20 like a place built for Trainers who needed one more breath before the road changed flavor. The streets were smaller than Aspertia's, but the Battle Club sign was impossible to miss. It hung above a wide building where cheers, commands, and the thud of attacks rolled through the open doors.

Cilan brightened the moment he saw it. "A Don George Battle Club. How nostalgic. A place where strength, discipline, and presentation meet on the same plate."

Iris folded her arms with a grin. "You mean people battle inside."

"That is the short version," Cilan answered.

Tepig walked beside me instead of riding inside his Poké Ball. Since Route 20, he had been quieter than usual. Servine and Dewott had both changed before his eyes, and even though he cheered for them in his own way, something still stayed behind his eyes like smoke trapped under ash.

I knew Tepig had been abandoned before we found him. I knew love did not erase that kind of hurt in one clean moment. What I did not know was why the Battle Club doors made him slow down.

Pikachu noticed too. His meaning brushed my cheek with worried sparks. "Tepig smells old fear. Not here before, but fear remembers."

"We stay close," I murmured.

Alice heard and moved a little nearer. She did not ask for the whole answer yet. She simply looked at Tepig, then at the Battle Club, and understood enough to watch carefully.

The closer we came to the Battle Club, the more Tepig slowed. At first I thought he was tired from the route, but his ears did not droop like exhaustion. They angled toward the building, catching voices through the open door before any of us could understand the words.

Dewott noticed too. He stopped polishing his scalchop and looked between Tepig and the club entrance with a seriousness that would have looked impossible back when he was still Oshawott and trying to turn every moment into applause.

"Do you want to wait outside?" I asked Tepig.

Tepig shook his head too quickly. That was the first sign that the answer was not simple.

I did not push. I only slowed enough that entering the building became something we did together instead of something the road carried us into before Tepig was ready.

Inside, two Trainers were finishing a double battle. One side used Watchog and Mienshao. The other side used Heatmor and Emboar, and both Fire-types moved with harsh power that left scorch marks across the floor. The Trainer commanding them stood with a smug smile and a long coat that made him look like he had dressed for applause instead of partnership.

"Heatmor, finish with Fire Spin," he ordered.

"Emboar, Hammer Arm," he added without even looking at his partner.

The attacks crashed together, and Watchog and Mienshao fell. The crowd gave an uneasy cheer, not because the battle had been beautiful, but because it had been decisive.

The defeated Trainer's Mienshao tried to stand before its Trainer recalled it, shaking with the kind of pride that made defeat hurt more. Watchog still growled at Shamus's Emboar, but Shamus never looked at either defeated Pokémon as living opponents. He looked only at what he might take.

That bothered me before I knew anything else about him.

Don George raised one hand. "The match is over. Shamus wins."

The name meant nothing to me at first.

Tepig stopped moving completely beside my leg.

He did not cry out. He did not hide. He only froze so completely that I felt the fear before I understood it.