Preface

Yes, Fish. Then Entre, Cheese, and Dessert. Like with most things regarding this story, it started as a meme but I'm genuinely not sure what I'll use as arc titles when I'm done with the courses of a meal. Maybe random flavors of ice cream?

Fish 4.1

Aaron Fulan

Route 102, Hoenn Region

My bokken glowed faintly with white light as I parried a Karate Chop from Durvasa. It was nearly nothing, so faint that it could be dismissed as the lacquer catching the sun, but it was there nonetheless. Slowly, I was bridging the gap between human and pokemon, turning what was once a purely mental ability into something I could channel physically.

I took a half-step forward and slammed the hilt of my sword into my mankey's face, sending him sprawling with a pained yelp. I'd swung with all the strength my thirteen year old body could muster but he merely twisted in the air and skidded to a halt a second later. What would have been horrid animal abuse in my past life was just another flavor of team bonding to us.

Though I'd initially imagined Durvasa being a rival for Artoria, it turned out that she was just a bit too fast with Mana Burst and Teleport for him to engage properly. Jeanne had her own bag of tricks to draw on, her combat style revolved around dealing with faster opponents, but Durvasa had nothing save his own fists. She demonstrated the gulf between them thoroughly over the past several days and he absolutely loathed the thought of her taking it easy on him so he ended up sparring with me as often as not.

On the plus side, I'd never seen a more motivated pokemon. He directed the frenzied passion his species was known for into physical exercise and Focus Energy in an attempt to reach a "breakthrough" that would put him on even footing with Artoria, or at least within spitting distance of her shadow.

Even now, he was stronger than me, strong enough to compare to an average adult man despite being only a foot tall. If it wasn't for the faint trace of psychic aura I could use to reinforce myself, extra reach, and literal decades of experience, I was certain I'd lose. I'd have to work hard to stay ahead of him. That suited me fine; it'd been a long time since I found someone who could push me as a martial artist.

Off in the corner, Artoria and Jeanne played catch with an increasing number of Electro Balls. Jeanne would launch one after another at Artoria like cannonballs, only for Artoria to extend her spoon's reach with Light Screen and lob them back. They'd up the number of balls in the air and the strength of their counters until one of them ate an attack in the face. I'd made sure to stock up on paralyze and burn heals before leaving town.

We'd stopped for a lunch break about a quarter of the way into Route 102. Route 102 had very little in the way of challenges to offer. It was kept free of all but the weakest pokemon by rangers, mostly so agrarian communities like Oldale and nearby settlements would have an easier time transporting their produce to Petalburg. It also helped that our regional professor insisted on isolating himself to the peninsula.

That was great news for farmers, but not so much for us who were, in game terms, rather overleveled for the area. Too inexperienced to pick up a local commission from a ranger outpost, too strong to get anything out of battling the wild pokemon around here. Which meant we spent our time training amongst ourselves.

Or in my case, splitting time between training and reading. I didn't have a mankey's stamina after all. I didn't spend all my resting time poring over books from my family library like some sort of bootleg wizard; I also did a fair bit of browsing on the internet. So long as I stayed on the routes proper and not, for example, trek through Petalburg Woods to cut south straight from Verdanturf, connecting to the rest of the world wasn't an issue.

The international headline read, "WCS begins with perfect victory for Champion Leon!" Apparently, the man had faced ace trainer Leilani Kanoa of Alola, completely obliterating her team with his monstrous charizard despite her Alolan golem's best efforts. She'd done well; she'd gotten him to gigantamax, something most people weren't expecting to see from him until much later on in the tournament. But in the end, there was very little that she could do against an honest to Arceus kaiju.

People were calling her an ace trainer for the feat. I snorted at that, not her, but the phrase itself, even the news outlets were using the phrase now.

Strictly speaking, there was no such thing as an "ace trainer." It wasn't a rank that was conferred upon trainers by the League. As far as I could tell, it was a term that came about organically from online discourse, off the League battle records and forums. When the internet went up, people in this world naturally gravitated towards what my old world called "battleboarding," and shitposting about battleboarding. People started saying "X is ace," so it just came into common parlance. It reminded me of how kids in my old world would make up slang that adults would try to make sense of.

Though there were no official qualifications, it was generally accepted that trainers who were "ace" were those who completed at least one regional circuit and had a win-loss record of seventy percent or better. In other words, they were the cream of the crop who might consider picking a fight with the likes of mom or Wallace's elite team. Or, at least, their online following thought they could.

It was honestly fascinating to watch as internet culture started to come into its own. In some ways, this world's online zeitgeist was faster to develop than my own. In others, it was painfully slow.

There was really only one recreation: battling. Sure, there were contests and races and whatnot, but great coordinators and racers were, by definition, also great trainers. Everyone who stood at the top dabbled in battling in one stripe or another. That created an incredibly unified community, ready to be brought together by the wonders of the internet. Things like battleboarding, online ranking systems, or ticket resellers were swift to crop up.

On the other hand, such an overcentralization of the global community's interest into a singular form of recreation meant other things were fairly slow to develop. Like social media. My old world had Snapchat, Twitter, Instagram, and half a dozen more flavors of social media. This world had one: the International Pokemon League's Trainer Logs. Since everyone had pokemon, everyone used the same thing.

Hell, the idea of a global stock market was young, not even a decade old. The community was so naive in some ways that a part of me wanted to fuck around and replicate the dot-com bubble, but I'd probably have a psychic (mom) kicking my ass within the week.

'Please don't destabilize the global economy for your own amusement, my liege,' Artoria chided.

'I'm joking. I wouldn't really do it. It's not like I have a great deal of knowledge about that anyway. I just read a few news articles when they came up.'

'I have faith in you.'

'Why do I get the feeling you actually mean the exact opposite of that?'

'That is your own guilty conscience whispering in your ear, my lord. Perhaps you should consider listening to it more often?' she sniffed, a teasing smile gracing her face.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the digital newspaper. In another corner, I found a little blurb listing out other battles. Flint eliminated his fellow Sinnoh Elite Aaron, the bug type specialist having an admittedly shitty draw this year. Kalos' Drasna fought Unova's Grimsley, coming out ahead and no doubt inflaming the age-old rivalry between the two regions. Other than those two, I noticed that none of the Elites battled other Elites. The organizers probably wanted to keep the later brackets interesting.

I swiped the tab and moved on to the next page. Then the next, until I was three pages in and I found what I was looking for. In typical media fashion, they'd stuck the popular news in the headlines but left the less appealing news in the back. Though to be fair, it was an editorial piece on the effects of the recent Rusturf collapse. "Drayden Shaga withdraws championship bid!" the page practically screamed at me.

I began to read aloud. "Early March, trainer Sean Anders passed away after his zweilous evolved under underknown circumstances in Rusturf Tunnel. His hydreigon started a panic among exploud and was so ferocious in its rampage that it had to be put down by Elite Drake. The event closed down Rusturf Tunnel for a week, disturbed several local pokemon conclaves, and sent a ripple of unrest throughout the local ecosystem. It also soured Hoenn-Unova relations, causing the negotiations for a cooperative trainer exchange program to come to a screeching halt.

"Why, you may ask? Because Sean Anders was not just any old trainer lucky enough to have a powerful dragon. He was the sponsored trainer of Drayden Shaga, eighth and widely considered the strongest gym leader of the Unova region. It was a considerable black mark on the dragon master's reputation, sending out a trainer who turned out to be poorly equipped to handle the evolution of his own type speciality.

"This tragedy strikes at especially poor timing for Leader Shaga, who had publicly expressed his intent to make a run at the Champion's crown. He has since withdrawn his bid, saying he had much to learn still.

"Champion Alder, longest reigning Champion in League history, had this to say, 'It's unfortunate what happened, but my faith in Leader Shaga is unwavering. He was and remains a firm pillar of our region, someone who I could see taking my seat with enough preparation. My heart goes out to Gym Trainer Anders and my friends in Hoenn. It is my sincere hope that today's youth take this tragic lesson to heart: There comes a point when the strength of a trainer is not measured strictly in the power of his pokemon, but the power of his bonds.

"Commentators wondered if that was a generic bit of political support or an indication that the aging Champion intended to retire. Though still mighty, Champion Alder had begun to take a step back from the political arena as of late, choosing instead to be something of a vagabond philanthropist, a wandering hero unafraid to work directly with the people. Whatever the case, Elite Caitlyn was tapped as a special envoy to Hoenn to reassure our leaders and hopefully mend bridges. How that will go remains to be seen."

That was… good…? Caitlin was coming here. Or perhaps she was already here. Considering she and mom were acquaintances, that was good for inter-regional relations. On a personal note, it probably meant I'd get my larvesta egg very soon, or I'd be forced to wait for however long negotiations lasted before Caitlyn could go back to Unova and return to looking for the egg. As mom said, either Petalburg or whichever city I headed to after.

I turned to the regional news section and found something else of interest. Apparently, the geological survey led by Dr. Kagari around Mt. Chimney came back with some interesting findings. Soil composition that was atypical of volcanic regions was noted near the crater, which in this world likely meant unusual pokemon activity. Excavation efforts were set to continue at a far slower pace now that there was a significant risk of disturbing wild pokemon nests.

I breathed a sigh of relief. It meant whatever Magma was looking for, their efforts would be slowed significantly.

'We're assuming she is Magma then, my liege?' Artoria asked.

'I'm almost positive. It's a fair guess given her name, distinctive hair, that stoic face, a scientific background…'

'Perhaps we should inform Lady Sharon?'

'And say what? "Hey, mom, I'm from a different reality?"'

'We could.'

'I'd rather not have anyone else rooting around in my head, Artoria. Mom is… mom.'

'Then should we investigate Magma first? Perhaps it'll be easier for us to discover evidence linking their plans as we already know what their goal is.'

'That might be true. We can work backwards since we know their end goal already. But I don't think we're strong enough,' I told her truthfully. This world wasn't a game; villains wouldn't use only a handful of poochyena and numel, nor would they be restricted to "levels." Even if the cult offered each grunt a numel as something like a signing bonus, I could expect almost everyone to have some variation in their teams. 'Even if the grunts are as weak as I remember, we're not ready for any of the admins.'

'Our options then are to tell Lady Sharon or investigate on our own?'

'We could also do nothing.'

'You would never,' she said confidently. 'My lord is a man of action, always was. Perhaps you would stay your hand for a minor matter, but the goals of Magma and Aqua are too far-reaching in scope for you to stand idly by.'

'You're not wrong. Sitting around with my thumbs up my ass sounds too much like waiting for Brendan or May to rescue us all with some sky dragon ex machina. That doesn't sit right with me.'

'Nor with me, my lord.'

'But I still don't want to talk to mom… How about we call that a last resort? Maybe we'll have enough information so I don't need to get a mind scan.'

'Very well, my lord. Then we shall train until we are ready to investigate on our own. We have time, at least until Lord Tate and Lady Liza become gym leaders.'

'It still feels weird keeping tabs on Magma like this though.'

'My lord?'

'Hmm?'

'If Magma wants to awaken Groudon, what is Aqua doing?'

'That's the worry, isn't it?' I mused. 'In the games, both Aqua and Magma could be found in scripted events. Both stole from the Devon scientist in Petalburg Woods. Both tried to turn Cozmo's meteorite into a mega stone on Mt. Chimney. Both stole an Orb from Mt. Pyre.'

'Then there is no point in worrying, my lord. The truth of the matter is that we do not know the specifics despite your otherworldly knowledge. Whether the villains we face ends up being Magma or Aqua, it matters not. All that matters is that we press forward. Answers will come with strength,' she said with a resolute nod. It really was that simple for her. She'd train until she could handle any unforeseen obstacles, and then train some more.

'You're right, Artoria. Thank you.'

'I live to serve. Only…'

'Yes?'

'We should also keep an eye on this Professor Cozmo. The one called Zinnia of the Draconids as well. The meteorite he will find, it will be necessary to mega evolve Rayquaza, yes?'

'We are. He's one of the names I'm looking for when I read the news. If something happens, we'll know. Maybe I can get mom to buy it and keep it in our family vault or something. As for Zinnia, she's going to be a lot harder to track. She wasn't the Lorekeeper until very shortly before the events of the games and spent most of the canon events as a disguised grunt in either Aqua or Magma.'

'We do what we can. Until then, we move forward as we always have.'

'Always.'

X

At the sluggish pace we were traveling, it took us four days to arrive at Petalburg City. "Petalburg City, where people mingle with nature!" a sign proclaimed proudly.

It was a nice thought, except that made Petalburg just about the least interesting city in Hoenn. Practically every town in this world tried to "mingle with nature." Fortree went above and beyond in the attempt of course, but other than major metro areas like Rustboro, people made a real effort to get along with the local wildlife. Wise choice, when most of the wildlife could kill you with barely a thought.

"We mingle with nature," wasn't as much a boast about the city's virtues as it was a tacit admission that, "We have nothing else interesting to put on our sign."

Artoria snorted in a distinctly unladylike manner. 'That seems overly harsh, my lord.'

'Yea? Name one interesting thing about this city besides Norman Maple.'

'There is… There has to be something…'

'Yeah. The parks and ocean breeze is nice,' I admitted. To be fair to the city, I would have felt privileged to live in a city as well-designed as this one in my past life.

Petalburg had been built flush against the Touka River, on a floodplain that transitioned into a slow-flowing delta as it met the sea. That wasn't always a good idea thanks to erosion, flooding, and sediment buildup, but the city made it work with the help of numerous water pokemon. Instead of building a series of dams to section off the river, the city decided to literally "mingle with nature" by constructing a network of canals, underground waterways, and freshwater ponds. These broke up the main Touka River and slowed its flow to create habitats for local pokemon while simultaneously forming small landmasses for human habitation.

Homes and buildings were built in between ponds. People traversed the city using a combination of bridges and walkways. There were normal roads and sidewalks built out away from the floodplain as the city expanded and industrialized, but the "old town" district of Petalburg was still very much a "foot traffic only" kind of place. Or, if you felt bold, swimming.

Really, I was being a grump for the sake of it; the city was beautiful in its own way. Where Verdanturf catered to grass types, Petalburg loved their water types, almost as much as Sootopolis.

Small armies of marill and surskit cleaned the waterways, kept pokemon from the woods from encroaching too much into the city, and provided easy training venues for young trainers and students. Sometimes, a local wingull or corphish would take a shine to a student from a trainer school and become their starter.

The four of us walked through the main road as it transitioned from dirt to pavement. That was another interesting sidenote: Asphalt basically didn't exist. Or it did, but in extremely small quantities compared to what I was used to. Cities almost universally preferred concrete pavement over petroleum byproduct because though asphalt was cheaper and easier to lay down and maintain by human hands, rock and ground type pokemon could maintain concrete far cheaper and easier than anything a human could manage. Why bother with heavy machinery when a well-trained graveler with Mud Slap could make a usable concrete slurry in half the time?

Truly, being a strong trainer opened doors even after the journey. Most never acquired eight badges, never mind competed in a conference, but simply being decent enough with a type usually meant you had a solid career ahead of you, which was another reason most people chose to become specialists.

The very first pokemon center we stumbled upon, the one nearest to the Oldale exit, was nearly filled to the brim with kids my age. There was apparently some kind of school camp in the woods going on right now. The center still had room for one more, but the four of us decided collectively that we'd prefer somewhere a bit more private.

Ironically, it was the most touristy pokemon center that ended up being the least crowded. There wasn't anything unusual about the center itself, but it was situated only a block away from the bay where the Touka River met the sea and had a splendid view of the oceanside sunset each evening. I'd expected it to be busier because of the view; maybe the locals were long used to the scene.

"Man-mankey!" Durvasa said, as he climbed on my shoulder. He gestured wildly at the ocean. His eyes shone with naked awe. He was, after all, a pokemon who'd spent all his life in a forest. He didn't know what an ocean was until I tried to explain to him what islands were while we were talking about Mossdeep.

I was not a particularly poetic man, yet even if I was, how could mere words describe Kyogre's domain? This one view of the seemingly endless horizon and the ocean waves that glittered like gemstones put any words to shame.

There was only a small pier here unlike in Slateport, the city having chosen to invest in tourism over commercial trade to take advantage of its pristine sandbars.

"Flaaf!" Jeanne bleated happily, rushing out to the pokemon center's backyard so she could spread her arms wide towards the setting sun. Her horns and tail glowed bright as though she was trying to outshine the sun.

'Because she is,' Artoria said dryly. She scowled lightly at Durvasa for "climbing our liegelord like a tree," but knew to let it go by now. 'Durvasa has never seen the sea before. He says its vastness reflects the world's limitless potential.'

I reached over my shoulder to give Durvasa a quick scratch. "Right, first time. It's big, huh? Even if we doubled the amount of land there is in the world, there would still be more ocean than land."

"Man…"

"The world's a big place, Durvasa. Jeanne, you ever seen the sea before?"

"Flaaf," she nodded. "Flaffy-flaaf."

'She has, but not this close. Her herd never had cause to be so close to the sea as there isn't much to eat.'

"True, true. Well enjoy the view, ladies and gent, because we're going to be here a while."

We walked back inside so we could raid the center's canteen for dinner. Unfortunately, though I'd managed to escape others my age, the center was hardly empty. Most guests here seemed to be people in their late teens to early thirties, travelers who could afford the slightly higher bill to stay by the sea or had a sponsorship like myself. We were about to exit the lobby when we heard a bit of a commotion at the front desk.

"Come on, nurse, ya gotta run this through again," a guest said, sliding their card across the counter. They, because that might have been the prettiest man I'd ever met. They were of middling height, with mint-green hair worn in a pixie cut and bright, pink eyes, kind of like a watermelon. Their hair even had darker streaks of green to further sell the image. Their voice was equally androgynous, with a youthful note that could be feminine or just mean that their balls hadn't dropped yet.

The receptionist looked tired. She let out a sigh but input their card through the systems one more time. "Not a nurse, just the receptionist. I'm sorry… mister…?"

"Why does everyone ask me that? Yes, I'm a boy," he sighed.

"Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Gallagher, this card has no funds."

"It's from the Fortree Weather Institute! It's the institute's company card! How can it not have funds?"

"I don't know what to tell you. Are you sure this is the company card?"

"I mean… one of them… My supervisor told me to take this one."

"It's likely that your supervisor gave you a deactivated card on accident. Can you call him?"

"Her. But she's off on vacation," he slumped. "Look, I really don't want to camp out again. Any chance you'll take an IOU? Or maybe I can do a job for you guys?"

"We don't have any job orders that need filling at the moment," the nurse said, not even bothering to answer the IOU question.

He looked around desperately before settling on me. I cursed my stupidity for sticking around but he was already stalking towards me. "Hey, buddy, mind loaning me a few credits? Or maybe let me bunk with you for a night?"

I sighed. "You can't tell me you have no funds except your card."

"I did… I just…" He tossed out a pokeball, revealing a roserade that posed like Tuxedo Mask. "I kinda blew all I had on a shiny stone. Thorn's my starter and when I saw the shiny stone on sale, I… hehehehe…"

I took a moment to study Thorn. Sure enough, his leaves were as green as baby bamboo shoots. I wasn't a grass type expert or anything, but leaves like that did generally indicate youth much as it did in plants. The only other distinguishing feature that set him apart from other roserade was the slightly pinkish tint of his white blossom. "Pink?"

"Yeah, he's the son of a coordinator's old roserade. Sonya of the Rose Garden, heard of her?"

"Can't say I do. I really only know Wallace and a few rising stars from this year's circuit, sorry."

"She's my big sister, used to be big seven or eight years ago, even did a tour of Sinnoh."

"Huh. Good for her."

"Come on, help a guy out. I swear I'll pay you back as soon as I can get a hold of my boss at the Weather Institute," he said, trying his best at the puppy eyes. Given his effeminate face, he was uncomfortably good at it.

"You're really from the Weather Institute?"

"Yup. Here, see my ID?" He handed it to me. "Frankie Gallagher, Junior Field Researcher," it read.

"A sponsored trainer?"

"I mean, kinda? Second year traveling but I'm not going for badges or anything."

That made him two or three years my senior depending on when his birthday lined up. My consideration for the Weather Institute dropped a fair bit. This kind of thing should've been ironed out within the first month. Even so, the place was the foremost meteorological agency in Hoenn and either Aqua or Magma would attack it for information eventually… seeding it with a few connections couldn't hurt.

"Fine," I sighed. They were probably good for the money anyway. I held out a finger to forestall his cheering. "You owe me a favor, deal?"

"Deal! Thanks, man. What's your name?"

"Aaron Fulan."

"Huh, like Sharon Fulan? The Oracle of Mossdeep?"

"That'd be mother dearest, yes. Mossdeep's my sponsor so fair warning, your supervisor will probably hear from the gym to get the payment squared away. It's not a lot of money, but mom's very precise about this sort of thing."

"Yeah, that's cool. Thanks again, Aaron."

"Yup. I'm gonna grab some grub. Tell the receptionist to put it on my tab and come join me for dinner, Frankie."

"Sweet, thanks!"

I decided to make myself scarce while he skipped off. Technically, I wasn't loaning him my money, and I knew the Weather Institute was good for it, but there was something about the act that made me hesitate anyway. Still, he seemed like an alright sort, for a sentient watermelon.

Author's Note

A 70% win rate is great in competitive sports. Yes, 100% monsters exist, but they're legends for a reason. On another note, I found out what "rizz" meant very recently and felt so fucking old.

Not gonna lie, I was that kid that tried to commit Naruto hand-signs to memory. I thought it made me the coolest fucker in the schoolyard in middle school and I still cringe every time I think back on it. Writing shitty fanfiction has a way of forcing you to confront your cringiest memories.

"Touka" is the name of Petalburg in Japanese. I decided to use it for the name of the floodplain/river where Petalburg was built.

Facts? I swear, some of you are happier about random trivia than the actual story. Fine. In any given year, over 1,500 people are bitten by... people... in New York City. In comparison, only about 100 are bitten by sharks around the world.

Seriously, NY, what the fuck?