Pokémon The Johto Journeys: Tough Enough

Chapter 2: The Pokémon Training Center

                Ash ran to Pikachu’s side. “Are you okay?” he asked it. Pikachu was his friend, as well as his top Pokémon. He smiled as Pikachu got back on its feet.

                Misty ran up to the trainer. “What’s the idea of letting your Pokémon loose?” she asked him. “Don’t you know somebody could get hurt?”

                The man smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. My Pokémon and I were doing some secret training,” he said. “My name is Muramasa. This is my Scizor, Masamune.”

                “A Scizor, huh?” Ash said. So that’s what the red Pokémon was. Ash pulled out Dexter, his handheld computer, to get more information.

                “Scizor, the scissors Pokémon,” said the Pokédex. “The evolve form of Scyther. Scizor’s incredible attack speed and its large scissor like claws make it a formidable opponent.”

                Ash had seen a Scyther before. His friend Tracey had captured one.

                “Scizor kind of looks like a bigger, redder Scyther,” Ash remarked.

                “Yeah, but Scizor’s a lot more powerful,” Brock said.

                Muramasa eyed Ash. “You look like a good trainer,” he said. “And I’m impressed with your Pikachu. Why don’t you come with me to my elite Pokémon training center?”

                Ash wasn’t sure what Muramasa had in mind, but he never passed up a chance to see something new. Ever since he had become a Pokémon trainer, he had journeyed through so many different towns and cities. In each place he met lots of new people—and new Pokémon. Sometimes he even caught new Pokémon that he could train. He always learned something wherever he went, and that brought him one step closer to his goal: to become a Pokémon Master.

                “What do you say, guys?” Ash asked his friends. “Let’s check it out!”

                Muramasa led them through the woods to a long, one-story building that sat in the middle of a green field. A Pokémon battlefield, shaped like a rectangle had been laid out in the brown dirt in front.

                As they got closer, Ash saw several trainers and their Pokémon working out. Machoke, a muscled Fighting Pokémon, karate-chopped a block of wood in half. Golem, a combination Rock and Ground Pokémon, lifted a bar of heavy weights above its head. Primeape, a Fighting Pokémon with a round, furry body, was jumping rope. Ash recognized them as one of the toughest Pokémon around.

                “Young trainers from all over the world come here to strengthen themselves and their Pokémon,” Muramasa said proudly.

                “All I ask is that they work diligently to accomplish their dreams of being victorious in their Pokémon battles.”

                At the sight of Muramasa, each of the trainers gave a small bow. “Good morning, teacher,” they said at once.

                “I guess the first thing they teach in this school is how to be polite,” Misty remarked.

                The trainers went back to their routines. Ash and his friends followed some of them inside the center. Brock stopped a boy about Ash’s age.

                “Your teacher must be a really accomplished Pokémon trainer if so many students come here to learn from him,” Brock said.

                The boy nodded. “He won a lot of battles in his day,” he said. “And his Scizor is awesome, too. It moves so fast they used to call it the Crimson Streak.”

                “The Crimson Streak. That’s pretty cool!” Ash said.

                “It used to be!” said a voice.

                Ash turned around. The voice belonged to a boy with purple hair. He wore a red and black striped shirt. He carried a laptop computer under his arm.

                Muramasa walked up. He must have heard the boy’s comment, but he didn’t seem to mind. “This is Shingo, my top student,” he said. “Perhaps you could interest him in a Pokémon battle.”

                Ash never turned down a Pokémon match. “That’s fine with me,” he said, then turned to Shingo. “I’m Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town. Where are you from?”

                Shingo sat down on the ground and opened up his laptop. He started typing furiously.

                “Let’s see… Ketchum… Pallet Town,” Shingo muttered as he typed.

                “Hey, am I in there?” Ash couldn’t believe it.

                Shingo nodded. “This is my trainer file. It has statistics on noteworthy trainers going back five years. This is everything I need to know about Pokémon and their strategies.”

                Ash watched as his picture popped up on the computer screen. There was writing, too, but he wasn’t close enough to read it.

                Shingo studied the screen. “According to my data, you’re a type ‘C’ trainer,” he said. “You use fairly standard attacks and you rely on your Pokémon’s power to win for you.”

                Misty grinned. “He’s got that right!”

                “You make rash decisions and you rely on your hunches,” Shingo continued.

                Brock nodded. “I’d say that’s fairly accurate.”

                “I see you lost a battle at the Indigo Plateau because your Charizard wouldn’t obey you,” Shingo said.

                Ash cringed. The information was true, but it didn’t tell the whole story. It made him sound like a bad trainer.

                “Well, I’m way better now than I was then,” Ash said. “Let’s battle and I’ll show you.”

                Shingo snapped the laptop shut and stood up.

                “Sorry, but my data says you’ll lose,” said Shingo. “There’s no point in battling you.”

                Ash couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

                “There’s no reason for me to have Pokémon battles anymore,” Shingo said. He turned to Muramasa. “If you want me to battle so much, find an opponent who can teach me something I don’t already know. Now excuse me.” Shingo walked away and up the stairs.

                Muramasa apologized for Shingo’s behavior and invited Ash and his friends to have a snack. Ash was still steaming as he sipped his hot chocolate.

                “Shingo thinks he can learn everything about Pokémon from his computer,” Muramasa said. “But he has forgotten the true spirit of Pokémon. He needs someone to challenge him, to make him battle, and get away from that computer.”

                Ash stood up. “That does it,” he said. “Somebody’s got to battle Shingo. And that somebody’s going to be me—whether he likes it or not!”