Hard Enough

“—ning listeners! It’s a wonderful fifteen degrees to start the day here in Pewter city! We’ve got chances of clouds coming later in the afternoon! If you’re looking for a picnic I’d suggest going early before the autumn storms roll in!” The rest of the radio host’s announcement was lost as I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I felt around in the dark for some clothing and tugged them on. Then, half hoping and half knowing, I reached back into the bed and found an empty spot.

I huffed and shook my head. I should know better by now. I stood to shake out my limbs. I bustled through the still dark house and into the entryway where shoes were stacked in mountains despite the wall of shelving I’d invested in. I kicked on my own shoes while my hands worked through the pile, sorting them quickly as had become a habit.

“Arceus forbid Cindy loses her shoes again,” I muttered as the last set of shoes was assigned their slot. I straightened, ignoring the voice of reason that pointed out I’d need to do it all over again by lunchtime.

For my morning workout, I ran to one corner of the land we owned, a line of Geodudes, the ones I had mentally marked down as future four badge fighters, woke up and came after me. It was an interesting situation as a gym leader. You needed to find a balance for the number of pokemon you held, and you needed to hold a number of pokemon for all stages and types of challenges that you could face.

It was an Arceus-sent-blessing when you could find a pokemon that was content with their current level or that wanted to hold where they were. Pokemon, I’d found, innately wanted to fight and grow as strong as they could. Both trainers and pokemon had come to understand very early in our shared existence that working together resulted in better growth. Rare was the pokemon that could grow strong without a dedicated trainer. Most only reached what was known as third badge strength. A blessing, as that meant, in game terms, pokemon rarely got over level twenty-five.

I sprinted through the small avalanche of Geodudes and skipped over a pair of Onix that were slowly rousing to begin their steady circuit. A Graveler that had been awake since the back door opened grinned at me and raised her top arms in defiance. I dove low and tackled her before beginning the other part of my morning workout.

Wrestling.

I rolled the Graveller over only to cop a number of punches to the abdominals, forcing me to tense up before I twisted to break the hold. I grabbed the lower arms, bracing with my legs. “Oryah!” I shouted as I threw the Graveler over my head.

The ground rumbled as the hundred-kilogram pokemon was flipped. I felt the strain but grinned, backing off to let my sparring partner right herself. Then we went straight back to it. The Geodudes caught up, breaking into their own sparring matches while I tumbled with their evolved form. Other pokemon slowly trickled in. After another toss of the Graveler, I raised my arms and shouted a victory/challenge shout that had a number of my other pokemon perk up.

A Rhydon stepped in with a glint in his eyes. This time I let him charge me. I didn’t catch him in a hold but instead dodged, knowing full well the difference in power that came from Rhyhorn’s secondary evolution. I closed and worked the body, my knuckles thumping into the side with dull impacts that weren’t going to win me the match, but obviously stung Rhydon’s pride in having me make the blows. Its arms swung ponderously at me. I ducked, dodged, dipped, dove and dodged as I had practised. A laugh at the thought of the old movie quote made me almost take a punch to the shoulder.

I dug deep though, fighting on. Rock type pokemon didn’t lack fighting spirit after all. As the Leader of the Pewter City gym, I just needed to bring it out.

A yawn from a young-sounding voice made me nearly take another hit. “Huh, he almost got you Brock,” mumbled a sleepy sounding voice.

“Morning Forrest, which workout are you doing today?” I asked my younger brother. He shrugged and gestured to the perimeter where three Onix were slowly making their loop. I grunted and landed another one-two combo in an earlier hit spot. “Need to keep the elbows in close and lean into some hits a bit more Rhydon.” I said to my Sparring partner before shouting out to Forrest, “Alright, but take ‘backpack’ with you. You need more than intensity in your training.”

Forrest didn’t have enough time to voice a protest as ‘Backpack’ leapt from where she had been fighting off an Aron to drape herself like a scarf over Forrest’s shoulders. He came awake at that as his body buckled.

“Broooooock!” He groaned before his eyes widened as I gestured to a number of lazying Aron. He took off running as they nipped at his heels. “Brock!!”

I ignored him, rolling under a punch before spotting an opening in my current opponent. “You’re mine Rhydon!” I shouted as I rose into an uppercut that landed right on the pokemon’s lowered chin. The punch rocked the bipedal rhino back and then it tumbled. I smirked and raised another fist in silent victory. This time not announcing my victory.

With my body heaving, sweat dripping down my form, and the knowledge that I’d inflate some pokemon’s opinion of themselves if they got to be the one to lay me out, I decided discretion was better than valour, so I walked off. While the Rock typing wasn’t known for pride like the Dragon typing, you still needed to manage them. A task that grows in scope when you go from your usual team of six to a small army of pokemon that each gym is expected to have on hand. I settled back and watched Forrest outsprint the chasing Aron. The Rhydon that I’d beat settled in next to me.

“Right Rhydon, that was a good match up but I think I need to work on you with—” Living in the Pokemon world with the Pokemon cartoon-like physics enforced by passive aura had some definite perks.

Being able to throw living boulders, carry pokemon that you outright shouldn’t, outrun professional sprinters in my old world, all while having the stamina to do it for over an hour were just a few that came to mind. People, in general, were more durable. I chalked it up to Arceus after poking at the question for a while when I’d been growing up for the second time. I found that you still needed to be smart about it though. You couldn’t just ‘believe’, you needed to work at things. The belief that you could do something helped a fraction, but I’d found that aura certainly played its part.

Most people didn’t think it was so literal when people mentioned ‘growing’ alongside their pokemon but there was a link. Not just in being better as a person but also in becoming stronger in various ways. It all depended on how a person worked at it. Which led to the last part of my training. I left the battling pokemon to it while assigning the strongest to be the referees. A concept that held no small amount of prestige as it allowed others to acknowledge that they had the power to end most fights easily.

Tomorrow, I’d spend more time watching for bad habits developing in my pokemon’s fighting methods. Today though, I finished out my workout by entering the cave at the center of the property.

The cave was dark as all unlit caves are. There was still a glimmer and sparkle here and there of various gems, crystals and growths that I had shoved into the walls after having the place made up. In a few hours, these gems would work to spread light through the cave but even then darkness would continue to pervade it. I walked past some still slumbering pokemon, patting the living mountains as I did.

In another section of the cave sparks arced about, dancing down geodes before flashing back, highlighting the warning markers that I had installed into the area. This was my special project that even I didn’t walk into without care.

Forrest and the rest of my siblings had been amazed when I’d shown them how electricity could benefit certain Rock types. But it was not these pokemon I was here for. Just as I ignored the stairs that went up to the peak of the plateau I’d made or the depths I’d carved out. Instead, I went to the deepest chamber and settled in to meditate. The area was large but already occupied.

I could just make out the towering form of Titan, my starter pokemon. I patted him, finding him already awake and kneeling in contemplation. “Tyranitar?” he said in greeting.

I knelt next to him, joining him in meditation. “Morning Titan.” It was a slow process of developing my Aura strength. But most paths to strength, without noticeable negatives, had that issue of time being the biggest factor.

I felt for the energy within myself and settled in. I’d known from day one of my awareness fully returning, that Aura could be used by people. I just had needed to find a method to train and control it. In the end, I had copied another cartoon by emulating the beings that were already using it.

I’m sure Toph would have called me ‘punk’, or some such name, but been mildly pleased with how she’d inspired another rock user. That being said, I didn’t settle for just rock aligned energy.

After all my starter was a dual-type. So why couldn’t I be the same?

Rock-type energy was easy to pull on.

Dark-type energy was different though. You needed to feel for it. I’d struggled with more than a metaphorical handful initially. I’d plateaued for years, making me doubt my method entirely.

Then I’d returned from my journey and it had become all too easy.

I had gone on a pokemon journey like so many others. It was considered something of a rite of passage. A coming of age that forces you to fend for yourself. Growing up is both the result, and the process. It was an ancient custom that seemed to span all the world in which many people have dedicated their lives to understanding a social phenomenon where a tradition was close to universal. Only very small out of the way places don’t push for it. Most of them were island nations where the chain of islands saw you able to pop in and out of home only if you had the right pokemon. The whole point of heading out into the wild had been to grow and mature.

I think I had been forced to grow more mature from my return home. Then again, the freedom of the journey compared to a position as a pseudo-parent had been a harsh contrast.

I went on my Pokemon adventure when I turned ten and had gotten to experience the wonders and joy that came with that journey. It had been tough back then, but I’d known and prepared for it. Just as part of me had known, feared and prepared myself for what I knew would eventually happen.

My parents leaving had stung… My mother walking off had been a critical strike as there had been no reference for when it occurred. I had a rough estimate for Flint. He’d been around to at least give Brock his Onix in the cartoon. That had given me time to form a plan. I’d planned to use the two years I’d bargained for from Flint as insurance and preparation.

My adventure would see me traveling for longer than the average trainer. It had seen me range further afield than most as well. This had resulted in me being able to lay claim to a lot of more rare types that I happened to know the location of. The foreknowledge that wouldn’t have been relevant for another six to ten years had been capitalized on, and now I could lay claim to a truly powerful team with some depth.

I’d taken part in the Kanto conference, the Orange league and then gotten half of the Hoenn region circuit. I’d loved every moment of it. My old world had nothing that could compare to the freedom of going on a journey with friends in the form of pokemon or others that you made during your trip. Each day was a different challenge. A pokemon journey was rite of passage and a year-long hike, then add in with something like a gap year and you’d still fall short.

As a trainer, you experienced complete control of your life for the first time. I had seen others fall into the traps this brought but my experience in organising and managing going on holidays in a variety of different climates had been put to great use. You could go to sleep exhausted from having hiked too far to wake up the next morning in a clearing of grass types, or overlooking an ocean teeming with water-types.

And then I’d been called home. I had asked for more time initially. I’d argued the closeness of the Hoenn conference with how strong my team was. I hadn’t won the Indigo conference but recent battles had all cumulated in a streak of wins. I’d been riding high on those with the caution of training tempering my team. Flint had been adamant in needing me back. I’d known this was potentially coming and dreaded it. I still agreed to return. I had raced home, slightly bitter at calling my journey short from the planned two years to just shy of a year and three months.

I returned to find him haggard. I also found out he was almost giving away badges. That had been the first argument we’d had. Then I’d returned home and found a number of worrying signs that indicated that things had not been going well there either.

Beer bottles stacked up around the bin. Dirty little brothers and sisters. Empty fridges with ready-made meals, at most. Dirty dishes stacked up around the sink. It told me a worrying tale without words.

Forrest had learned how to cook and go to the shops.

I’d settled in as quick as I could before setting to work cleaning the house and my family. I’d gotten them to an acceptable level before rounding back on Flint. He’d been cagey throughout the talk. I’d tried being objective with him, but seeing Tilly and Billy so small had been scary. Flint hadn’t seemed to notice or listen when I’d pointed this out. He’d instead gotten a faraway look.

Sure enough within five days of my return, he vanished into the night. A letter of apology with the contact details of support services was all he left behind.

I had always known how things would end up.

It had still stung. I tried to help out where I could but part of me hadn’t been sympathetic to his plight. If you have ten kids, it was going to be hard work. I could see that he wasn’t coping when I left. That didn’t mean I was going to forgive him so easily. The guy had support with neighbors and friends who were aware of the situation. While I had been there I had pitched in where I could, but he had totally taken advantage of this by leaning on me more and more with each visit home.

And now? I had to run everything. I’d prepared for it, but still been caught unaware of how tough it would be. Suzie and Timmy, now four years old, had been in nappies. Forrest hadn’t been ready to leave for his journey and could really only provide the barest of support. Yolanda had known something was wrong but had been too young to help out but in the smallest of ways.

I’d done everything but call support services. I didn’t want to risk the chance they’d take away the youngest and find them foster homes, or as was more common I had since learnt, spend their lives growing up in an orphanage.

I had overcome the issue.

“Ty! Tyran!” Titan poked me as he felt my Aura surge. I got it back under control and nodded to my guru. He nodded at me before gesturing to the gemstone that now held small flickers of light, indicating that it was time for me to head out and see to my family. I went through some cool-down exercises. Mentally pushing the heavy feelings I had drawn back down and repeating to myself that everything was fine now.

When I was settled and I was feeling light in mind and body, I rose up to stretch out. Titan patted me on the head before I left reminding me, in his own way, that everything was fine. I chuckled but gave the giant lizard a hug for his efforts. Then I departed the cave system to see to the rest of my morning's chores.

I worked the frying pan. Behind me, the sounds of slowly rising siblings filled the house. Some had already been drawn in by the smells of the kitchen, only for me to send them back out to wash up or collect another sibling. As the oldest, I had to set the rules. Only the youngest of our family of ten was allowed to remain at the table after the third and fourth eldest, Yolanda and Salvadore had deposited them.

“Brock! Suzie’s got my toy!” “No! It’s my toy!” screamed two of my sisters. I merely continued to work at the grill. “Brock! Tell her to let go!”

“Suzie! Now’s not the time for toys! Just put it in the toybox and come for breakfast! Same goes for you Cindy!” In true childish fashion, the both of them ignored me and instead raced into the kitchen. “No running in the house!” I called out with an increased firmness. That made them slow up but then they danced around me. A sizzle and spit of oil made them leap back, remembering the last time they’d been stung by the stove.

I turned and levelled my best big brother look on them. “Do I need to call Graveler in here?” I asked. They both shook their heads and sat down, where they continued to tug at a toy. “Hey! Toy! Hand it over, you both don’t get to have it. I’ve already had to stitch Mr Muggins twice this week. If I have to do it a third time I’ll put him away.” I made sure to only have a firmness with my tone when I scolded them directly. Kids were sensitive to raised or growly voices.

My announcement did not get obedience. Instead, it got some tears and screeches. I merely remained strong and deposited the toy on the counter. “You’ll get him back after breakfast, now let’s eat.” I settled in and started hoeing into the eggs with some spinach on the side. Around me the others had small bits of toast with their meals.

I didn’t glance to the empty seats that sat to the side of the dining room. I had built the gym with enough room for a family of twelve when I’d planned it out. It had gotten too depressing having the extra empty chairs at the table though so I had them moved to the lounge room where the kids piled toys or books on them.

A clatter of cutlery broke me from my thoughts. I glanced about to see most of my siblings were finished which meant it was on to the next task. “Alright! So we’re going to school now! I packed all the lunches last night!” I reached into the fridge and frowned as I saw that we were way down on groceries.

I ran that back through my mind before turning to the two youngest. “Have you been feeding the Munchlax that comes around again?”

Tilly nodded her head while Billy shook it. They then swapped roles with Tilly shaking her head while Billy nodded. I sighed not at all surprised. Munchlax were pretty cute and very docile when offered food. Small children like Tilly and Billy… or indeed any of my siblings would attract them for the leftovers and scraps they would get following them around. I paused as another suspicion formed before a thought occurred to me. “Is the Munchlax in the house right now?”

Both nodded slowly. I sighed and looked at the rest of the family. “Does anyone want to catch it for themselves?” Salvadore raised his hand hesitantly.

“Does this count as a starter pokemon?”

“Not unless you want it to. I think it’ll be more of a family pokemon. Depends where it wants to be when your journey rolls around.” He nodded and then glanced between myself and Forrest.

“Can I have a pokeball?” Forrest handed him one and the twins shot up to lead him to the future cuddle companion. I dished out the lunches for the day. I now had to add grocery shopping to the list. Just another chore for later in the day.