CYOA 2 – To The Victor Go The Spoils – Chapter 45: The Champion (Patreon)

Last time: Hanzo spent some time with Siebren and his psychic Pokémon after which he was absolutely destroyed. Still, in the present time he managed to best the last Elite 4 member, giving him a shot at the Champion.

Content/warnings: Pokémon typical violence; short display of Pokémon sexuality

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Hanzo has used his last healing items on Zeus, trying to get him up in somewhat of a fighting condition, but he’s not sure that he will be able to count on him during the last battle.

He stays in Miss O’Deorain’s arena for as long as he can, just trying to give his team a breather and attempting to gather his own thoughts as well.

It is difficult to really accept that after all this time he is just… right there at the end. It is only one opponent that stands between him and the title of Champion and the fact that he regularly sleeps with said opponent is… well. It’s all a lot.

Eventually the speakers crackle to life and the voice of Nurse Joy gently tells him that the current Champion is waiting for the challenger.

Hanzo swallows thickly. He rises from the meditative kneel he had been in and looks at his team in turn. All of them are gathered around him in a surprisingly civil manner. Even Byte has stopped bouncing and is just carefully balancing on the tip of its little body. Hanzo can tell that they feel the same kind of pressure that he is feeling.

Pressure – and anticipation.

One after the other, he calls them back into their Pokéballs before he finally turns toward the door leading out of the current arena and into the last arena of his journey.

His hands are shaking, so he curls them into fists and focuses on keeping his breathing nice and calm before relaxing himself again. He puts one foot in front of the other. He is surprised by how easy it is to walk. The pressure seems to fall off of his shoulders with the movement, leaving him a little more able to simply breathe.

He finally pushes the door open – and is startled to find himself facing a wall immediately behind. He jerks back, confused, and glances up to see Cole’s face looming above him, that familiar crooked little smile on his face.

“Hey there. Made it this far, did you? I ain’t surprised, to be honest. It’ll be a fun fight, I can tell you that much.”

“What are you doing here?” Hanzo finds himself asking, his brain not quite cooperating with the sudden proximity of the other. He’s been… missing him. It feels like ages since he last saw Cole, instead of just a measly day.

“There ain’t any cameras here,” Cole explains with a cheeky little lilt in his voice. His crooked smile grows broader, small lines appearing at the corners of his eyes. “Thought I’d have a couple a’ moments with ya myself.”

He puts his warm hands on Hanzo’s shoulders, gently squeezing them. “Are you ready? I ain’t gonna go easy on you just because you’re easy on the eyes, ya know.”

Hanzo scoffs. He looks to the side but quickly realizes that he does not want to be standoffish. Not right now, anyway. So he takes a step into Cole, pressing his face right between his pecs and deeply inhaling the familiar scent of his body.

After a moment of peace and quiet, Hanzo pauses and pulls back, frowning at Cole.

“What do you mean ‘no cameras here’?”

Cole chuckles, brushing a hand over Hanzo’s head and tucking a few strands of hair behind his ears.

“Ye’re awfully cute when you’re hopped up on adrenaline after a few fights and not thinkin’ straight,” he murmurs softly. “But you are about to face the Champion of the Pokémon League. People are interested, ya know. Fight after fight the view count has climbed up with more people getting interested and realizin’ that you might just get to the very top.

And here we are. At the pinnacle. It’s only the Champion between you and the title. Only li’l ol’ me.”

Hanzo stares at Cole, his stomach doing a slow, low flip as his words begin to sink in and the truth of the situation starts to really dawn on him. He feels a little embarrassed not having thought of the fact that his fights have been broadcasted to the outside world. He does not know whether he would have preferred to know, though; it might have altered his fights somehow. He might not have even made it here in the first place.

But… God, had he been obvious? Could people see during those first couple of fights that he’s been fighting against the grogginess of a night spent on cock after cock after cock? Heat swamps his body and nausea starts to creep up the back of his throat.

Cole, as if sensing his doubts, puts his hands on Hanzo’s shoulders and squeezes.

“You were phenomenal. I watched you perform. It was perfect. Your team was perfect. You were perfect.” He leans in, pressing a kiss against Hanzo’s forehead.

“Now come. The last round is starting and I honestly can’t wait to fight against you.”

Hanzo inhales deeply, nodding and shaking his arms and legs to get the pins and needles out of them. He needs a clear head. He needs to fight.

“And don’t think I’m gonna go easy on ya just because you’re a hot piece of ass an’ I happen t’ be madly in love with ya.”

He says it so easily; so charming. Hanzo can’t help but feel warmth rushing through his body and washing away the last vestiges of doubt. His legs feel lighter as he starts to walk, following Cole up into the arena.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. If I sense you pulling your punches, I will make your life a living Hell, Cassidy.”

Cole chuckles softly.

“Duly noted, princess. Now get to your place. I want to destroy you.”

.oOo.

Standing across from Cole in a real battle arena makes Hanzo realize that he’s spent too little time wondering what kind of team his lover actually has. He knows of a few of them, but not all, and the possibilities that suddenly stretch through his mind’s eye are intimidating.

Did he fill up his late Rapidash’s spot with something else? Surely he did. Hanzo is not quite sure whether it is even permissible for a Champion to enter a fight with a lacking roster of Pokémon.

Usually he would have hyper analyzed every possible fight before entering it but the thought of coming this far has somehow… well. He had not let himself think this far. It had seemed foolish. That – and he had been kind of preoccupied during last night.

“Are ya ready?” Cole calls over. His deep, sonorous voice easily carries over the expanse of the battlefield. He exudes calm confidence. Hanzo can feel it to where he is standing.

Slowly, he looks around. The arena is plain, for the most part; no major theme going on. There is a thick trench in the ground filled with water for any Pokémon that might need it, but other than that… nothing.

Nothing but cameras whirring around their heads and the battlefield and windows high above where he can see many familiar faces standing and staring down at them.

He can see Baptiste, D.Va, Reinhardt, Winston… Zenyatta and Genji. Roadhog and – his father. There are even more there, like the Elite four for example, but Hanzo’s gaze is stuck for a moment on his father; looking austere as usual and downright gaunt next to the humongous fat man he’s standing next to.

Their eyes meet. Sojiro does not smile, nor does his expression soften even the slightest bit – but he does nod at his son, albeit nearly imperceptibly.

Hanzo swallows thickly. His fingertips are prickling and his heart is beating fast but he can feel a curious calm starting to rush over him. He straightens his back and slowly touches one Pokéball after the other, coming to a rest on King’s custom one, fingertips sliding along the embossing on it.

“Yes, I am ready!” he calls back.

Cole smiles at that – then Hanzo’s last battle begins.

.oOo.

His fingers are sliding across the Pokéballs on his hip in a never-ending back-and-forth. He is painfully aware of all the eyes currently on him. He wishes that they could battle in privacy, but he understands why that is not really a possibility.

“I’ll be nice to ya,” Cole calls out with an easy drawl. “I’m gonna send it out first!”

Hanzo scoffs, though he does not stop Cole. He watches as the current Champion stretches out his arm lazily, calling forth his first Pokémon as if he were bored.

The white light appearing quickly coalesces into… Umbreon. Hanzo doesn’t know if he should be glad that his first opponent should be something he is already somewhat familiar with. The uncertainty of the rest of Cole’s team weighs heavy on his mind.

For now he has to focus, though. His hand stops on a Pokéball, briefly wondering if it would be the right decision to send Maddox out… but in the end he has had the most interaction with the Umbreon and as it has not been too friendly, that might give him the needed edge to win against such a behemoth of an opponent.

The Umbreon is not moving from its space, its yellow eyes boring into Hanzo while it waits for him to make a decision. It is not a particularly large Pokémon – Maddox will definitely be looming over it – but it has quite the presence.

Maddox looks a bit banged up from previous fights but not the worse for wear. He rolls his long arms, loosening his shoulders while his spine curves into a slouch. Hanzo can see his maw open in a lazy grin, tongue lolling out. In that moment, he looks so much like his old trainer that it makes Hanzo’s chest ache in a dull, affectionate kind of way.

He can see Cole grinning on the other side of the arena, mirroring Maddox’ expression. He does not comment on Hanzo’s choice, though. His arm lowers, Umbreon’s empty Pokéball still clutched in his hand.

His voice is as gentle and lazy as ever as he suddenly drawls: “Let’s get this on the road, shall we? Umbreon. Dark Pulse.”

Hanzo’s ears pop as a dark energy suddenly sparks from Umbreon; particles of it appearing in the air around it and getting sucked into its body before being released in a kind of pressure wave that has the hairs on his forearms stand on edge.

Maddox dodges without having been told to, luckily; he jumps in the last possible moment, the attack slicing through the air just beneath his claws.

Hanzo exhales roughly, gaze flicking back to Umbreon – which is suddenly no longer in its spot. His spine straightens in a flash, a half-spoken warning shooting from his throat – but it is too late. Not that he would have been able to do anything, really. Maddox is still in the air when Umbreon appears before him, its head ramming into his stomach.

A wheezing half-laugh escapes Maddox as the air is pressed out of his lungs. As if in slow motion, Hanzo sees his body folding as he gets pushed backwards by the force of Umbreon’s attack. He flies a couple feet through the air before he hits the ground, toppling over himself a few times before he manages to dig his claws into the ground and stop his momentum completely.

Umbreon does not wait for him to recover. It stalks closer, head lowered, pushing Maddox further back. Hanzo can feel sweat starting to bead on his forehead as the gravity of the situation – of fighting against the Champion – is starting to really weigh down on him.

Cole said he would not go easy on him… and he obviously is keeping his word on that front.

He needs to get the battle under control somehow. Cole is not issuing another command for now, apparently waiting for what is going to happen.

“Maddox, howl!” The command comes before Umbreon jerks toward its opponent in a feigned attack, just wanting to test out what Maddox would do.

Maddox, to his credit, does not flinch back, though Hanzo is not sure whether that is because he doesn’t let himself get intimidated or because he couldn’t be bothered to step out of the way.

From what Hanzo has learned over time is that Maddox would rather take an attack than to get out of its way.

He throws his head back, howling to the sky. The rise in power visibly has tiny pebbles starting to levitate in his immediate wake.

Umbreon is too small and fast; trying to use something like Bite and Bodycheck would surely result in a missed attack… so it needs to be something larger scale. Something their opponent can’t run from.

“Rock Slide!” he barks.

Maddox drops down to a hunkering crouch, his front paws pressed to the ground, claws digging in as the ground rumbles and large slabs of stone are pulled out of it and into the air.

Cole does not sound all too concerned, though as he drawls: “Ya know what to do, bud!”

Maddox hurls the rocks at his opponent. Hanzo watches with dismay as the Umbreon jumps into the air, pushing off of rock after rock to dodge the attack; but Maddox must notice as well because at the last second one of the last slabs of rock shifts, pushing into Umbreon’s jump path and slamming into it from the side, knocking it out of the air and sending it tumbling over the ground for once.

At his side, Hanzo balls a hand into a fist. They can’t let up now.

“Take Down!” he calls out, chin jerking toward the Umbreon slowly getting back on its unsteady feet. Even one of the Champion’s Pokémon can’t just shake off getting a slab of stone directly to the head, it seems.

Out of the crouch Maddox still is in, he charges forward without a second thought. His maw is hanging open, tongue lolling and fluttering in the wind as he rushes his opponent.

Hanzo can’t help but feel a swell of pride watching him just… go. No thoughts in his head, just the eagerness to please his trainer. No hesitation about hurting himself as he lowers his head, little pebbles starting to protrude from his fur like spikes as he rams into the Umbreon and knocks himself into the ground in the same time.

Both Pokémon drag across the ground from the force of the attack.

For once, there is no lazy grin on Cole’s face. Instead, his face looks tight as his eyes follow the trajectory of both Pokémon as they roll across the ground until they finally come to a rest in one heap of tangled limbs.

“That was a risky move, sweetheart,” he comments with a rasp in his voice that has Hanzo’s gaze briefly flick away from his own downed Pokémon and toward Cole. He wonders what is going on in that head of his in that very moment.

Is he thinking about his late Rapidash as he watches his Umbreon struggle to untangle itself and stand up? Or maybe he is wondering about which lengths Hanzo is willing to go to.

“It was a good gamble,” Cole continues after a moment that stretches on just a little too long for comfort. His eyes flick over to Hanzo, their gazes meeting in what Hanzo feels is an electric little rush through his system. “But I fear it didn’t go the way you planned.”

He slowly gestures with one big, calloused hand toward their Pokémon. Hanzo follows it and swallows thickly as he sees Umbreon standing; trembling and exhausted… but definitely standing – unlike Maddox who seems to be out cold after his impressively reckless attack.

Hanzo feels the hair on his arms standing on end. He swallows thickly, arm feeling so heavy as he lifts it to call Maddox back into his Pokéball. He stares at the closed ball, thumb slowly dragging across the smooth surface of the shell.

“You did very well,” he whispers softly. “You deserve to rest.”

He can hear the murmur of the crowd above. Though he can’t make out any individual words, their voices are a low hum in the background, keeping him painfully aware of all the eyes that are on them. The cameras whirr, moving around, swirling about their heads as they apparently wait for Hanzo to make his next choice and the fight to continue…

Which is odd. Hanzo glances up at them, and, realizing what is going on, he smirks, hand dropping to his next Pokéball.

Very well. This will be easy, at least.

.o.

“I know you, sweetheart,” Cole calls over. He somehow manages to make it sound like a croon even though he has to speak quite loud so Hanzo will even be able to hear. “I know you, and I know your whole team. Do you think you got anything up your sleeve that will surprise me? You’ll need to think outside the box, or I’ll bulldoze you in front of the whole region.”

There’s a cheeky grin on his face; one that promises that he wants to say a lot more raunchy stuff than that, though he thankfully keeps himself in check in front of the cameras.

Hanzo scoffs. His thumb presses the button on the Pokéball, letting it expand in his hand. He lifts it to his mouth, whispering his instruction before throwing it high up into the air.

The cameras that had been whirring around them immediately follow the new action, swarming the ball like overly curious flies.

Cole’s head goes into his neck, watching the ascent with a small frown. Umbreon is watching as well, spine curled slightly and visibly ready to fight again. Their audience high above is watching as well, the murmur having died down as they watch with quiet interest.

The ball opens and a flash of lightning is visible for a brief moment before disappearing again. The Pokéball, now empty, falls to the ground in front of Hanzo’s feet. The cameras disperse like a flock of birds, swishing across the battlefield once more to circle the opponents and the single Pokémon still standing in the arena; now confused and paranoid looking.

“What…” Cole’s voice trails off. Hanzo can see his brain working; the way his lovely brown eyes flick across the battlefield, looking for the opponent. He looks back toward Hanzo who shrugs his shoulders, bending down to retrieve the empty Pokéball.

Once he’s righted himself, he stares back out onto the battlefield, eyes focusing on one of the cameras that is whirring around the Umbreon.

The rotom cameras.

Cole follows his gaze, the furrow between his bushy brows becoming deeper before his face goes slack for a second as realization hits home.

Before he can tell his Umbreon what to look out for, though, Hanzo jerks his arm into the air, giving the signal to Byte currently residing in the camera hovering just behind the Umbreon.

There’s a brief jolt of electricity in preparation for the actual attack. The Umbreon flinches and whirls around, but it is too late: all of a sudden the rotom camera explodes in a thick show of sparks and electric crackle which springs over to Umbreon like a wildfire, completely enveloping it in the attack.

The light is far too bright to directly look at. Hanzo has to raise an arm, shielding his eyes from the lightning attack, as does Cole, face looking tight in the split second that Hanzo can see it.

Tight and knowing.

When everything dies down, there is a smoking camera lying on the ground, useless junk now after Byte’s attack. And next to it: the Umbreon, lying on the ground unconscious.

Byte is hopping back toward Hanzo’s corner while Cassidy lifts his arm with a grim expression, calling his Umbreon back.

“That was a dirty li’l trick,” he drawls. “Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

“Oh you didn’t? And here I thought you knew me,” Hanzo calls back. His heart is thumping fast with adrenaline and the rush of having finally bested Cole’s first Pokémon. They’re back on an even playing field.

Cole’s mouth twitches. It is his turn to shrug self-deprecatingly.

He does not wait for more small-talk, though. He grabs his next Pokéball, hesitating for just a split second before throwing it. His expression is… odd, but Hanzo does not have time to pay much attention to it.

The Pokéball pops open energetically the second that it leaves Cassidy’s fingers. In a show of light and a sharp bird scream, his Braviary bursts forward, large wings flapping to propel itself into the air. It looks a little laborious, like it has trouble pulling its own body weight where it needs to be, but Hanzo supposes that must be a side-effect of having been locked into the Pokéball for an extended period of time.

What confuses him more is the choice of the Braviary itself. It does not make sense right now. Not with Byte out on the field, crackling with electric energy and bouncing restlessly around. Waiting to unleash yet another thunderclap.

The Braviary screeches again. Hanzo winces. He hates bird Pokémon… he hates how the Braviary is circling above their heads like a vulture, ready to rush down and bury its claws into a soft gut…

He shudders.

“Byte – Thunderbolt!”

Eagerly, Byte shoots out the attack. It arcs through the air but barely misses the Braviary who tucks in its wings for a moment, plunging toward the ground before jerking them outward again and laboriously dragging itself back into the air.

It is large but quick… Hanzo has to admit that much.

Still, it is a rather poor choice for an opponent and Hanzo has trouble figuring out why Cole would do that.

Byte hops a few feet forward, trying to find one of the Rotom Cameras whirring about to hitch yet another ride, but they stay well out of reach this time.

“Seems like they don’t want their toys gettin’ destroyed!” Cole calls over. There’s a bit of a tight edge to his voice that Hanzo has not heard that way yet. “Better luck next time, babydoll!”

Hanzo narrows his eyes at him. He lets Byte try yet again to connect an attack with the Braviary, though it manages to dodge yet again. While it’s movements look plump and laborious, it keeps dodging without a fail which is frustrating in and off itself.

Hanzo frowns, hand curling into a fist at his side, wrecking his brain over what he should do about the situation, when Cole calls out an impossible attack: “Night Slash!”

Hanzo’s head jerks, staring toward him. Immediately a din of voices rushes up from above them, their audience caught off guard by the order just as much as Hanzo himself.

The oddest thing is, though, that the Braviary screeches and twists in the air, rushing down with its claws extended and some Dark energy starting to form around them.

“What is… what is happening?” Hanzo whispers under his breath. He rips his arm up to shield his face from the dust and tiny rocks splashing everywhere as the Braviary rams into the ground where a split second before Byte had still been bouncing, watching the advancing attack with just as much confusion as everybody else.

As far as Hanzo is aware, a Braviary should not be capable of a Dark Type attack.

It twists around, still sitting on the ground, wings expanding. Dark orbs gather inside them to shoot toward Byte who is thinking much more in the moment than Hanzo is and is shooting off an attack of his own.

Both attacks connect, though not like intended. One of the dark orbs knocks into Byte’s side, throwing him off his stance disconcertingly easy and causing his connection and concentration to break after just a second or two of the electric attack hitting the Braviary.

Hanzo sucks his teeth. He can’t believe how hard the Braviary is hitting. Byte is still so new in his team, it might just be out of his league despite the type advantage-

Byte is bouncing back from the hit quick enough, but the doubt has been sown in Hanzo’s head and-

“Come on, bud- hold it together!”

He looks away from Byte toward Cole, and then toward Cole’s Braviary who is having a rather odd expression itself. It is wobbling on its legs, wings outstretched weakly. Should that aborted attack of Byte’s really have been enough to already force it to its knees?

…No. It struggles with some unseen demons before putting itself back together, screeching loud and triumphant. Hanzo breaks out in goosebumps. He hates Bird Pokémon so much…

As the Braviary flaps its wings again, trying to pull itself back into the air, he makes the decision to pull Byte back.

It would not be wise to try and brute-force his way through this just because of a type advantage and the more he can preserve Byte’s health for another encounter, the better. Byte does not seem all too happy with that decision, pushing a little spark through the shell of the Pokéball that has Hanzo almost drop the thing, but he can’t be thinking about that right now.

He needs to keep the momentum going. He needs to win.

His fingers slip to the next Pokéball, eyes fixed on the Braviary that is still struggling pulling itself into the air. He throws the ball. It has barely left his fingertips yet again when it pops open, the bright white light coalescing into a slithering form on the ground that is already on its opponent even before it has completely materialized into Kikuri’s form.

She has been very good in the other fights, listening to Hanzo to the T, but he had been able to tell that she had started to become more and more feral. She’s tasted blood and she wants to win this fight. Maybe more so than anyone from his team. More than he himself wants to win.

Not because there is much in it for herself but simply because she hates losing, he supposes.

The Braviary also might be a male, giving her just that much more incentive to want to rip it apart.

She is on it, her claws digging beneath its feathers, no hesitation whatsoever to be seen as she digs her sharp beak into the Braviary’s neck.

Cole’s expression is… honestly disturbed. His mouth is hanging open a little bit as he watches Kikuri’s conduct. Hanzo can feel himself becoming a little embarrassed; like he should be calling her back, but-

Well. That is before there is a popping sound and the space immediately surrounding the fighting Pokémon is filled with a thick, opaque fog.

Hanzo presses his mouth and nose into the crook of his arm, the other trying to wave away the fog curling around the arena so he can see what he and Kikuri are dealing with now.

There are dark shapes moving in the fog; jerky, violent movements, accompanied by Kikuri’s aggressive hissing and something else’s… growls. The shapes keep distorting into themselves. Hanzo thinks in one moment that he sees Kikuri’s lashing tail but in the next realizes that he is looking at a clawed arm.

His skin raises into goosebumps. Being on high alert, he almost steps into the arena just so he can finally see what is going on – when finally the fog starts to dissipate, giving him a proper view of the battlefield.

Braviary is no longer in it. Instead, Kikuri is riding on the back of another Pokémon, tall and with lanky limbs and a lot of fur. Hanzo’s mouth moves with no word coming out at first before he hisses: “A Zoroark?!”

His gaze flicks to Cassidy who is grinning crookedly again, shrugging his shoulders all nonchalant.

“Would’ve loved for the little charade to be up a li’l longer, but your girl is awfully vicious.”

His girl is also still hanging on to the back of the Zoroark like an awfully vicious monkey, her bite into him not having changed much during his transformation; only that it is mostly fur that she is now sinking her beak into.

Her eyes are wide open, pupils just tiny, slitted pin-pricks. She looks even wilder than she had been before Hanzo took her on. He does not think she will even hear his orders right now which is… concerning.

The Zoroark keeps stalking in tight little circles, trying to get a grip of the slippery Salazzle on its back, though with no fur to grab, she proves to be rather elusive.

“Come on, bud – get a li’l creative!” Cassidy calls out. He does not sound concerned in the least, which is a little… worrying for Hanzo. He is making a ‘rolling’ motion with his finger. The Zoroark catches on quickly and, without hesitation, throws itself with its whole weight backwards, ramming Kikuri into the ground and burying her beneath its body.

Since it is just lanky, Hanzo is not all too worried. In fact, he thinks it might be a boon for him that she finally is made to let go of her opponent. She does not seem worse for wear, slithering away and out of reach in a split second.

She’s close enough so he crouches down and snaps his fingers a few times, hoping she will react. She does, surprisingly enough, creeping closer to him while not letting her opponent out of her sight.

“You need to be careful,” he says in a low voice. “The idiot might try for ‘fun and harmless’ but he will crush us giving half the opportunity. Keep a cool-”

The Zoroark leers at them, hunkering down on all fours and letting its tongue loll out of its maw. It is, apparently, enough to set Kikuri off again as she races toward it, her tail lashing through the air like a blade.

Hanzo sighs. He gets back up on his feet and watches with a frown as the much smaller Kikuri clashes with the Zoroark.

As far as he can tell, the Pokémon is just as much of a trickster as the stories make it out to be, which might just be their saving grace.

It looks downright disturbed by the burning hatred Kikuri is exuding like a pheromone as she goes for its eyes without hesitation.

There are little to no special attacks being thrown; no real attacks in general, to be quite precise. It is for now a simple, claw-to-claw scuffle as Kikuri wants to draw blood and the Zoroark tries to get her off its case.

“Babydoll! Ya think she’s stable enough for a fight? Looks like she’s out for a kill!” Cole calls over. He sounds lazy enough but Hanzo can tell that there is a bit of an uneasy edge to his voice.

To be quite honest, he does think that given half a chance, Kikuri will attack to kill, but she is too uncoordinated in her bloodrage to really do anything of value to the Zoroark.

“Don’t be such a crybaby,” he mutters under his breath.

Zoroark finally gets to grab Kikuri by the tail, swinging her over its head a few times, then throwing her as far as it can.

She catches herself in the air, digging her claws into the ground and still slithering a few meters until she comes to a halt almost in arm’s reach of Hanzo.

“Kikuri. You can’t keep this up. We’ve been past this, haven’t we?! You need to listen, or this will go southways. And fast. Calm yourself down!”

She glances at him, at least. Just a brief little side-eye but it is better than nothing. Maybe her short flight through the air has at least given her enough time to cool her head for a moment, though Hanzo can see the poison sludge that is starting to ooze from her pores with all the vicious energy she has stored up inside of that little body of her’s.

“Take a deep breath,” he hisses. “And think. It is larger and slower than you, but your physical attacks have not put a dent into it yet, have they? So how about you use that devious little brain of yours and put that poison to good use, yes?”

She makes a sound like a scoff but does at least rise from the feral crouch she was in to slide one paw over her bald little head, then over her body as if wiping away some dirt.

Hanzo exhales, relieved. He seems to have finally come through to her.

A sound from the battlefield has him look back toward the Zoroark. It is still keeping its careful distance, but there’s a new quality to its slouch; it seems even more loose-limbed, a toothy little grin on its pointy snout. It makes that same sound again; an amorous almost-purr that makes Hanzo frown.

It’s surprising that after last night it would take him this long to catch on to the fact that Cassidy’s Zoroark is hot for Kikuri. It’s a good thing that she is much quicker on the up-take – probably due to her being a Salazzle anyway.

It only clicks for him when she starts to stalk closer, a little flirty trill coming from her in turn. He’s never heard her make such a sound before.

The frown stays firmly on Hanzo’s face as he watches Kikuri advance in a slow, almost leisurely stroll while the Zoroark laps it all up eagerly, even going so far as to lay down on the ground to make itself smaller than its opponent.

“I think your Pokémon are spending too much time with you,” Hanzo calls over, eyes never leaving the display of the Pokémon. He does not think that Kikuri is actually interested in the Zoroark, but then again, he’s also never seen her use her… feminine wiles, he supposes. Being the only female of his team, she already has her harem around her and never had the need to do any of… that.

“Well-” Cole does not seem to know what to say. He is scratching a hand through his unkempt hair, visibly taken aback by the proceedings as well. “Just make sure that…”

Kikuri is close to the Zoroark now and as they watch, turns around, crouching on all fours and coquettishly moving her tail aside in clear invitation.

“There are kids watching!” Cole quickly finishes his sentence, his voice having climbed an octave. Hanzo, while taken aback by Kikuri’s display, glances toward his boyfriend, morbidly fascinated by the red hot flush of his face.

Oh, who would have thought that there are still things that embarrass the big oaf.

Hanzo smirks. glancing back to Kikuri. She is still making those trilling, amorous little sounds but the look on her face is… well. She definitely is scheming something. So Hanzo does not tell her to stop whatever it is she is doing.

Still, he feels a bit odd and voyeuristic watching the Zoroark crawl over the much smaller Pokémon, its grin having broadened into a big, sharp-toothed leer. Just as it leans down, long tongue lolling out and dragging between Kikuri’s little shoulder blades, does she suddenly move.

The motion is quick and economic; she twists herself onto her back and, aided by the momentum, throws a claw full of thick sludge into the Zoroark’s face.

Hanzo can hear the poisonous mess hitting its eye with a wet splat, immediately followed by an acidic sizzle that has all the hair on his body standing on end.

The Zoroark rears back with a bloodcurdling scream, desperately wiping at its eye and stumbling backwards.

Kikuri is on it in a second, once again throwing herself on its back, when Cassidy’s voice cuts through the cacophony of roars and screeches: “Pain Split!”

Hanzo has never before heard that tone in his voice before. This cold anger that is so unlike Cole’s usual MO.

While the Zoroark is stumbling about blindly, a dark aura starts to envelop it. Kikuri suddenly screeches herself and lets herself fall to the ground, holding her own eye now as well.

When both Pokémon take their claws away from their faces, there are large acid burns mirroring their tight, snarling faces.

They clash again, though this time it looks like they truly are out for blood. Hanzo can tell that Kikuri won’t listen to him anymore – and from the sour expression on Cole’s face he does not think that Zoroark will listen to him, either.

They are biting and clawing at each other, snarling and rolling over the ground; and every now and then a special attack flies oddly through the air. Hanzo has to dodge out of the way of both dark orbs and streams of hissing poison.

The Rotom cameras are all swarming the pair of Pokémon, filming their mutual hatred from all possible angles – and probably impossible ones as well.

Their fighting twists itself into a frenzy, clumps of Zoroark’s fur lying on the ground and splashes of Kikuri’s blood following soon. It’s when they both are at each other’s throats, sharp teeth poised to rip through flesh when Cole suddenly loses his composure.

“Stop!”

His outcry has even the Pokémon pausing, their eyes rolling to stare at him while their chests are heaving with the exhaustion.

Cole looks deathly pale and his hands are shaking before he balls them into fists.

“This is just mayhem,” he croaks after a moment, slowly trying to unclench his body, Hanzo can see his face glistening with sweat in the light of the arena. “I will concede this round.”

There is a sound like a collective gasp from above. Hanzo, feeling taken aback himself, shakes his head. That does not… feel right. Not at all.

But Cassidy is already extending his arm, Pokéball clutched in his hand to call his Zoroark back.

Hanzo’s body surges a step forward. He jerkily reaches for Kikuri’s Pokéball himself.

“In that case, this will be a draw!” he announces, even though all his instincts tell him not to. In all honesty, it is not his problem that Cole has a trauma from his past. He should not be suffering because of it. If the Champion wants to forfeit a precious round to keep his demons at bay, then that’s no skin off of Hanzo’s nose.

But.

Looking at Cole’s face as he calls Zoroark back in a show of bright light, Hanzo can’t help but feel nervous and somewhat hollow inside. He is very aware of Reyes’ heavy gaze on him from above. The judgment that pours off of him is palpable. How dare you put him through it.

Hanzo swallows thickly. He calls Kikuri back who is trying to dodge the Pokéball’s beam at the last second but luckily doesn’t manage it. He can feel her fight inside the ball, struggling to get back out and sate her bloodlust.

Cole spears a hand through his hair yet again. It is sticking up a bit oddly due to the sweat. His eyes still look haunted but there’s a bit of color returning to his face.

“Ya don’t need to concede,” he tells him. “It ain’t your-”

Hanzo waves him off, sticking Kikuri’s Pokéball back to his belt once he is sure that she has calmed down enough to not break out of it. “Save your breath. It’s just a draw.”

“That puts us at two-for-two, though.” Cole’s mouth twitches in a small, forced smile. “Ya know ya need to beat me to win. No draw will suffice.”

Hanzo scoffs. “I’m not an idiot. Just keep fighting.” He barely refrains from insulting the other. From the way Cole’s mouth relaxes into a much more natural grin, he can tell that the other is very much aware of that.

“Very well. Let me at least give ya a little headstart, then.”

Before Hanzo can argue, Cole throws his next ball. Out of it bursts his Braviary… again. Only this time Hanzo can immediately tell the difference between it and the imposter from before. It pulls itself up into the air with much more ease, its movements fluid and effortless as it sails through the air despite its size.

Hanzo swallows thickly. He does not particularly enjoy when the huge bird flies over his head but he’ll just have to put up with it for now. His fingers slip to the Pokéball next to Kikuri’s. He had not wanted to choose him again so soon after his last fight – in fact, he had hoped that he might be able to give him a break overall. Logically he had known, though, that this option would be slim against the Champion. Cole might be jovial and easy-going but he fights like a demon and it won’t do for Hanzo to be anything but willing to fight tooth and nail for a win.

So he takes Zeus’ ball and throws it out onto the battlefield.

It never fails to intimidate even him to see the sheer size of him as he materializes himself. His tail is curled to give him more of a secure stand as his head reaches high toward the ceiling.

Not quite high enough, though, to simply snap the Braviary out of the air. He still tries his luck and nearly catches it by the wing before it screeches in indignation and pulls itself even higher into the air.

Hanzo can see the momentary confusion on Cassidy’s face as he seems to be stumped by his choice. He does not ask, though, and Hanzo does not elaborate. The brief cut in their battle moments ago feels already forgotten as they settle back into the fight.

Hanzo watches for a moment or two as Cassidy orders his Braviary to attack with its claws, clearly just checking out the situation – and maybe how aggressive Zeus actually is.

Zeus, in turn, tries to grab the bird Pokémon between his jaws whenever it comes remotely close enough in reach, its talons extended in an attempt to do damage.

They play cat-and-mouse for a few more moments, testing each other out. Hanzo can tell that Zeus is still quite exhausted from his last battle against O’Deorain, but he is interested and bright-eyed… and quite level headed, after the absolute feral insanity that Kikuri (and Zoroark) had displayed before.

He inhales deeply, a prickling crawling up his spine and settling in the back of his neck as he finally orders: “Zeus! Fly!”

Cole’s face twists on the other side. He watches with trepidation – as do the people in the seats above – as Zeus roars and begins to move his fins in flapping motions.

Honestly, Hanzo is not even sure if he can fly. He knows from a theoretical point of view that it is possible, but he’s never made or seen him fly before and looking at the meaty snake body it seems… completely out of the question.

But Zeus acts like he’s been soaring through the air every day since evolving. It takes just a few seconds (that feel like aeons) until he actually begins to lift off the ground.

Hanzo is not entirely sure that it is really the flapping of his little fins that do the trick, but he will have enough time to study up on the physics of Gyarados fight later.

After he’s won.

It is quite intimidating to see the sheer mass of Pokémon above them. Zeus snakes through the air as if it were water, his massive body seemingly weightless as he takes a few circles in the air for himself to pull up higher and test it all out. Lucky for them, the Braviary seems just as concerned about the whole situation as its trainer, as it keeps its distance for now and just observes the whole situation.

Hanzo exhales slowly. Somehow it is difficult during the fight to remember to breathe. He can still feel Kikuri at his hip, struggling intermittently against the cage of her Pokéball. He can’t focus on her right now, though. Zeus looks like he is stretching himself out in the air. He is just so long, gliding through the arena and looking surprisingly graceful doing so.

“Go on, get his tail!”

The sudden command startles Hanzo out of his thoughts. Braviary’s answering screech makes his hackles rise. He watches as it zooms closer, faster and more agile than Zeus could ever be in the air.

“Aqua Tail!” Hanzo orders, a sharp bite to his voice. Zeus twists in the air. He rips his tail out of Braviary’s talons, adding yet more cuts to the old and new ones littering his battered body. He uses his tail like a whip, just barely missing Braviay with the physical brunt of it but still hitting it with the scythe of icy water catapulted out of it.

While it careens through the air, trying to regain its flight despite the wetness of its feathers, a fine ice cold rain falls down on Hanzo and Cassidy.

Braviary is a large bird Pokémon all in all but it does not have the weight behind it that Zeus does. They keep jabbing at each other but it is just chip damage. Zeus does not show that he even feels the many little jabs of the sharp talons and even sharper beak, but Hanzo can see in his face how his rage is slowly but surely mounting.

Other than Kikuri, though, he can keep it under wraps, which… well, isn’t that the joke of the century? He’s probably the only one on earth with an emotionally well-adjusted Gyarados at this point.

In turn, Zeus is simply not not quite quick enough for any of his attacks to truly connect with the Braviary, though Hanzo thinks it really does look worse for wear. In the end it still is a fragile bird and even Zeus not quite landing his hits still has some oomph behind it.

“Tail Wind and Aerial Ace!”

Hanzo glances toward Cassidy. He sounds a little… frazzled, to be certain. The cocksure attitude he’s had before has cracked some – and if that isn’t fun.

What is not fun is what is happening above their heads. With the strong wind that is coming up, Braviary is even faster, flitting around Zeus’ head like an annoying fly. While the Aerial Ace attack does not do much damage, mostly glancing off of Zeus’ scales, Hanzo can see in his eyes how he is getting more frazzled by the other Pokémon.

He roars, twisting in the air and trying to wrap his whole body around the Braviary who manages to slip out of his grasp every single time.

“Try to ride the Tail Wind!” Hanzo calls up to him but he is not sure that his words even reach up that high. They are pretty much ripped from his lips the second they leave him. Cassidy seems to be talking as well; his mouth is moving, but Hanzo can’t understand a word he’s saying.

Braviary keeps flapping its wings, whipping the wind up into a storm that Hanzo has to bodily push against so he wouldn’t get thrown down to his knees. The sand and debris ripped up from the ground by Maddox’ earlier attacks hurt quite a bit now, lashing against his face and any exposed slip of skin.

Zeus might have been able to drag his heavy body up into the air, but he is not a confident flier per-se. Hanzo watches with dismay as the roiling winds knock him out of the path he had been taking for the past few minutes. He becomes the storm’s plaything, thrown through the air – Cassidy has to jump out of the way at one point otherwise he would have been hit by Zeus’ tail and most likely seriously hurt as a result.

Hanzo grits his teeth, helplessly staring up into the air where Zeus keeps trying to get his trajectory back under control but fails over and over again. He can’t do anything. He wouldn’t even know which commands to give him other than to tough it out until the Braviary’s attack ends…

Though it does not look likely. It is standing in the center of the storm, not a single feather ruffled, moving the wind around it like a conductor with an ease that Hanzo does not see Zeus ever being able to do.

However, what ends their fight in the end is neither Zeus’ brute strength, nor Braviary’s vast superiority in the air. It is a simple string of little coincidences.

Zeus did not try to get into the eye of the storm, but his tail manages to get there anyway. And he did not mean to wrap himself around his opponent – it was as simple as the motion of the wind guiding him until he realized what was happening and seizing the moment.

Like a vice, Zeus wraps himself around the Braviary, forcing its wings down to its body and the winds to finally stop whipping around them.

They fall to the ground like a rock with Zeus taking the brunt of the fall – yet with everything else, he just takes it. He seems to be an endless sink for damage, most of the time seemingly not even feeling it – though Hanzo knows better.

He knows that he feels every cut, every bruise, but his previous life of abuse has prepared him for exactly this moment. Not to pause for even a second to breathe through his own pain and instead relentlessly attacking his opponent with a burst of crackling electricity now that he’s got the Braviary in his clutches.

He won’t let go for anything, and Cole must know that as well. Even if the attack did not knock Braviary out, he quietly pulls out his Pokéball and calls it back anyway because there is no use fighting the inevitable.

Hanzo calls Zeus back as well. While he has not been defeated, he can’t in good conscience use him for more of this battle. He presses the Pokéball against his forehead and whispers: “You were phenomenal.”

Finally he’s got a foothold. He’s one win ahead of Cassidy. He just has to keep it that way.

.o.

There are no freebies in the next round. Cassidy lazily counts down and on zero, they both throw their fourth Pokémon into the arena.

Hanzo’s heart is beating fast as he watches Alfonse materialize. The huge Alpha Pokémon is jiggling intermittently, apparently feeling the pressure of the current fight quite a bit.

He turns around, peering over his shoulder at his trainer, looking for reassurance. Hanzo nods at him and gives him an awkward little thumbs-up that seems to calm him somewhat, at least.

However, when he turns around and sees his opponent, he immediately takes a startled step backward.

Hanzo grits his teeth. Of course Cole would have a ghost Pokémon on his team, and of course he would send it out right when Alfonse made an appearance.

It is a Brambleghast of all things. Hanzo has never seen one personally before and he has to admit they look kind of… unsettling with their glowing eyes and myriad of thorns making up their skeletal bodies.

He half considers calling his Goodra back, but Cole, seeing an opening, immediately attacks. Hanzo grins sharp and mirthlessly. Honestly, it would have been idiotic not to utilize the momentary hesitation of his opponents.

Cassidy throws his arm out. “Grass Knot!”

The Brambleghast shudders. An odd scratchy sound emanates from it, kind of like rustling leaves and creaking wood at the same time. It has the small hairs on his arms stand on edge.

It begins to roll toward Alfonse and all the huge Alpha can do is stand there, frozen in place and shaking so hard that his whole gooey body is jiggling.

Hanzo’s heart sinks, watching him. Still… he has already surprised Hanzo many times with his quiet resilience – and maybe he needs simply needs to trust him now as well that he will surpass himself this time as well.

Hanzo extends an arm of his own once the Brambleghast has started rolling in tight circles around Goodra’s feet and calls out: “Dragon Tail!”

Alfonse hesitates for a second before his tail begins to glow – but it is one second too long as the Brambleghast’s attack finally hits, wrapping around Alfonse’s legs and ripping them out from underneath him. Hanzo winces when Alfonse hits the ground hard. His body briefly loses form, stretching out over the floor like jelly before bouncing back into shape.

Cole does not wait up for the two of them to gather themselves. Hanzo being in the lead must annoy him quite a bit for as laid back and happy-go-lucky he usually is, the expression on his face now as he orders the Brambleghast to put a curse on Alfonse, is pretty intense… and sexy.

Hanzo swallows thickly. He watches as a nail appears above each Pokémon and while Alfonse still struggles to get his feet out of the vines that are hobbling him and get back up on his feet, the nail rams down into his back.

Hanzo winces. While the Brambleghast has been hit by its own attack, it just keeps on grinning and rolling in circles around its prey.

Alfonse finally manages to get back on his feet, but there is a ghostly presence now attached to him and Hanzo can see the panic mounting in his Pokémon’s face. It’s probably the worst Cole could have done to him, and he is absolutely certain that that is a product from him knowing Hanzo’s team pretty much inside-out at this point.

He knows that Alfonse is easily scared and putting that curse on him would all but decide this round for himself. He grits his teeth, anger rising when, upon looking over to Cassidy, he just blows him a kiss, his crooked grin decidedly smug.

So the gloves are off.

Hanzo’s fist is so tight around Alfonse’s Pokéball that he is honestly surprised it doesn’t crack under the pressure. He thrusts his arm out. “Alfonse! Come ba-”

But the Pokémon dodges the red light of the ball. Hanzo’s mouth goes dry. Alfonse has never before been disobedient, and he can’t fathom why he would do so now when getting back into his Pokéball would mean escaping the curse that the Brambleghast has put on him.

The ghostly presence is digging its claws into Alfonse’s body. He cries out in pain, but a moment later lashes out with a stream of fire thrown into the general direction of his opponent.

The Brambleghast manages to stop before it rams fully into the pillar of flames, but that doesn’t mean that it dodges them completely. The sound it makes as the flames hit part of its dry, grassy-body is akin to the rustling of leaves and the cool clinking of shards of glass knocking together.

Hanzo’s skin breaks out in goosebumps.

Due to the curse, Brambleghast has weakened itself as well, and coupled with the hit just now, it is visible that it is not doing all that hot either right now.

Hanzo hesitates, slowly putting his arm back down again. He’s not entirely sure how to keep fighting with Alfonse, but he is doing a rather good job of that himself. He keeps shooting the few non-contact attacks that he knows, trying to wrestle his foe down before the curse can take him down; though the longer it takes, the more frantic his movements and expression becomes.

It occurs to Hanzo that he is trying with all his might to avoid touching the Brambleghast – and unfortunately it figures out the same because while it certainly is not that big of a physical fighter, it tries to go right up into Alfonse’s face, forcing him to retreat and get herded through the arena all the while the burn and the curse are taking their toll on the Pokémon.

It’s a goofy fight for sure, though Hanzo can’t help but be proud of Alfonse; he is trying his best, he really is.

In the end, it is not good enough, though, and he has to concede defeat.

Just like before with Zeus, while Brambleghast is still technically able to fight, Cole calls it back and will most likely not be sending it out to fight again.

Still, the verdict on this round is clear.

“Back to square one, babydoll!” he calls over, sonorous voice traveling easily. “You know that this is it, don’t ya? If you can’t defeat my next choice, you’ll have lost.”

Hanzo swallows thickly. Only two more Pokémon to go, and he will have to win. A tie won’t do. His heart is pounding a mile a minute in his chest. His hand moves toward his Pokéballs. He knows for a fact that Cole still has his Mudsdale waiting in his ranks, as well as one mystery Pokémon that is really starting to make Hanzo nervous.

His fingertip slides across the embossing on King’s custom Pokéball. He pauses there, just feeling the almost scorching warmth emanating from the ball. He knows that King is absolutely raring to go, but… if he is banged up in the end like Zeus currently is, he will only have Byte to clutch this one out.

Should he risk it? … either way, this is a difficult choice. Byte is still so new; they can’t hope for him to physically overpower anybody, not with how small he is. Hanzo’s eyes travel up toward the Rotom cameras that are keeping carefully out of range for now.

The tactic worked pretty well, all in all. With Byte, he needs to come up with fighting styles that are out of the norm.

And actually… he might have thought of something already.

He exhales slowly. Trying not to show anything on his face, he locks eyes with Cassidy who also is standing with his hands on his Pokéballs, waiting for Hanzo.

They nod at each other – then they throw their choices.

.o.

It seems counterintuitive but Hanzo is really glad to see the Mudsdale across from Byte.

The little Pokémon is bouncing excitedly, already looking for a camera that he can slip into, though all of them keep well out of range now, having learned their lesson.

For once Hanzo has a vision of how the fight is supposed to go, and he is determined to win. He has to win. Just as Cole said earlier: a tie won’t do. Not this time. He has to win the next two rounds, or his journey toward the top will have ended in a pathetic whimper.

Cole must know something is up because he does not make a smart comment about the poor match-up on their Pokémon types. His bushy brows are knitted as he tries to figure out what Hanzo’s angle might be this time.

“Ya know, I’m startin’ to get really nervous whenever you pull that li’l critter outta your pocket. It seems to drag out the worst in ya.”

Hanzo can’t help the way his mouth twitches into a grin at that. “Byte sure forces me to be creative.” It’s not his strong suit, God knows – but he is trying.

Cole does not look pleased with that. He throws one arm out, pointing at Byte bouncing on the spot. “Stomp!”

The order is succinct and his Mudsdale does not hesitate. It is so huge that when it moves, Hanzo can feel the ground trembling beneath its massive hooves. Its droopy eyes are fixed on the target.

In his opinion it does not look overly interested in fighting at all, but that must be a misconception on his part, as it is eager enough to follow its master’s orders to attack.

To be fair, if one of those hoofs hits Byte, be it with an attack or just a casual step, there is no coming back from that one. Hanzo watches with a nervous twist in his gut as the Mudsdale approaches, little rocks flying off to the sides as it crosses the arena in just a few strides.

However, Byte does not seem fazed in the least. It simply moves out of the way, the little Pokémon quick and nimble as it zig-zags around and to the side of the Mudsdale. This repeats a couple more times before Cole, looking like he is wholly unsurprised, calls out: “Earthquake!”

It is a sensible tactic, of course. Use an attack that would simply ignore how fast the opponent is, as it hits a wide area without fail, and even exploits their type differences.

Hanzo’s heart pumps fast as he hopes that the first part of his plan goes how he hoped it would. He can’t exactly watch: the ground is shaking so hard that he is falling to his knees himself.

He has to even jump out of the way of one of the massive crack heading his way. He’s never seen an Earthquake attack in person; and certainly not this up close. The Mudsdale is bucking, slamming its hoofs into the ground and causing it to rupture with the attack.

There is so much dust thrown into the air, lodging into Hanzo’s throat and forcing him into a coughing fit. By the time the attack finally ends, his ears are ringing and his arms and legs are still shivering with phantom tremors.

He forces himself to climb up on his feet, though he needs a moment to collect his knees so they won’t simply fold up beneath him again. By the time he can focus on the battlefield, the dust has settled enough for him to see that the Mudsdale is now standing on its spot and looking around, searching for its opponent.

Byte, for his part, is not difficult to see: his bright colors cut easily through the drab brown of his surroundings as he is sitting on Mudsdale’s broad back, having easily levitated out of the ground attack.

“Yes,” Hanzo whispers under his breath. It feels so good to finally not be flying by the seat of his pants and have an honest to goodness tactic to go into a fight with Cole. Especially after the clusterfuck of the past few rounds.

Cole does not look impressed by the revelation.

“Okay. So my Pokémon is too slow to hit your’s, and you got a nice little trick to evade his Ground attacks too. So how do you want to win this, babydoll? Electric attacks won’t hit. You tryin’ to go for physical?” Cole has to laugh at the mental picture this must give him. “How ‘bout you send out your big boy instead? Take up the li’l one’s slack. It did good to come so far, but there are still quite a few fights missing under its belt.”

Hanzo’s mouth twitches. “You want to fight King badly, don’t you? But it’s not his time yet. Byte can take good care of his opponents, don’t worry. Thinking is not one of your strong suits, after all.”

“Hey now…”

Hanzo ignores Cole’s whining, instead focusing on Byte who is still sitting on Mudsdale’s back. It has noticed the small Pokémon there as well, head turned to just peer at it with mild curiosity. It does not seem inclined to fight without any explicit orders by its master, just waiting for whatever he wants it to do.

It’s a big softie at heart, as far as Hanzo can tell; which makes his subsequent tactic a bit mean but… well, he is not here to make friends. He has to win, and he will not go easy for anything.

“Byte! Confuse Ray!”

He hears Cole groaning in desperation as all of a sudden he seems to realize what Hanzo’s tactic is going to be.

Hanzo’s grin widens imperceptibly. He is not the sort to gloat over the sure defeat of an opponent, but he can’t keep it out of his voice either as, while Mudsdale rears its head back and neighs in surprise, he calls out: “Will-o-Wisp!”

Byte is only too happy to follow along. It’s bouncin and zig-zagging having slowed down a bit due to fatigue, it is still very much upbeat as it shoots off the next attack. Much like Alfonse against Brambleghast, the Mudsdale catches fire.

It’s… an odd sight for sure, especially when the usually serene Pokémon starts to buck and cry out with surprise and, well… confusion. It stumbles through the arena, fighting against ghosts and trying to run away from its own burning tail.

“Come on- snap out of it!” Cole’s voice is strained in desperation. He knows that there is little he can do while Mudsdale is stumbling around in its confusion.

The small triumphant grin on Hanzo’s face freezes, though, when one of the massive hoofs manages to clip Byte. The small Pokémon immediately is catapulted across the arena. His heart skips a beat, mouth going dry as for a horrible moment he wonders if Byte is dead; but it catches itself before it can get thrown out of the arena and precariously balances on the little tip of its body… albeit in a very unsteady way.

Hanzo drags a hand over his hair, exhaling explosively. “Holy shit,” he whispers under his breath.

Mudsdale is starting to calm down, the Confuse Ray apparently finally losing its power over the huge beast, though the fire is still going and chipping away on its health dramatically.

Hanzo inhales deeply. Now or never. They have to clutch it out.

“Byte! Hex!”

The electricity dancing around Byte’s body becomes brighter for a second. He looks ready to tap out itself but is apparently more than willing to pull the very last reserves of energy out of its tiny body for the trainer that he had chosen for himself.

A dark energy breaks loose, the wave far larger than what one would assume such a tiny Pokémon to be able to produce. It hits Mudsdale square in the side, enveloping it and seemingly feeding off of the flames still plaguing it as both the dark wave of energy as well as the burn flare up dramatically.

Mudsdale rears up with a mighty, surprisingly shrill neigh. Hanzo watches, his throat constricting awkwardly, as the massive Pokémon awkwardly staggers on its hind legs before it starts to topple like a tree.

Just before it’s heavy body hits the ground, the red beam of Cassidy’s Pokéball calls it back.

Quiet descends over the arena, only interrupted by the gentle beeping of the scoreboard as it shows a 3-2 in Hanzo’s favor.

Hanzo calls Byte back quietly. He stares at the Pokéball in his hand. Honestly, he had not really thought about Byte all too much since he was all but bullied by the Pokémon into taking it with him. He had thought his trust to be vastly misplaced in Hanzo, though maybe… it had not been.

He’s been nothing but enthusiastic about fighting for him, eager to prove his strength underneath a trainer – and he feels like a lot of people have now seen what kind of power is contained in the small Pokémon.

He closes his eyes, pressing the Pokéball against his forehead for a moment, then shifts his attention back to Cassidy.

Cole looks thoughtful. He’s got his last Pokéball in his hand, idly throwing it up into the air and catching it again over and over.

Hanzo’s eyes follow the Pokéball. He has no idea what opponent Cassidy got in there for him. What if it is another Ground or Rock type? What if it is a Water type? What if Hanzo and King have lost even before the fight started simply because of a type advantage?

He swallows thickly and tries to shake himself out of it. He couldn’t let himself get intimidated by this now. Not after the win Byte managed to wrest out from the Mudsdale.

“Ready, sweetheart?” Cole asks. His thoughtful expression has softened into something much more gentle. The brief smile he shoots Hanzo looks so genuine that he can’t help but feel a little bit more at ease after seeing it.

He can’t help smiling back as he takes King’s Pokéball in hand and nods. Whatever will happen, will happen. He and his team have fought valiantly and while King is a bit exhausted from the previous fights, he can feel his eagerness to stomp his opponent through radiating through the Pokéball clutched in his hand.

For the first time since the start of the fight, Hanzo looks up to the ranks above them, eyes moving above tense, interested faces until he finally sees his father’s dour, slim figure next to Mister Rutledge’s massive body.

His face is, as ever, carved out of stone. As their eyes meet, it takes him quite a bit but eventually he gives his son an approving nod, the lines around his mouth softening marginally.

Hanzo can feel a rush of elation through his body. He presses King’s Pokéball to his lips.

“You can do it,” he whispers – then throws the last Pokéball of his League adventure.

.o.

King is absolutely pumped to finally be out on the battlefield; Hanzo can feel the restrictive grasp on his chest relaxing as he sees him bursting out of the Pokéball with a downright demonic neigh and his gray-blue mane burning wild and hot enough that Hanzo can feel the heat to where he is standing.

He’s used him throughout the Elite Four fights but kept patching him up with little potions and elixirs. Still, right now he looks like he hasn’t been out in a week, muscles trembling as he waits to explode with power.

It’s such a far cry to the tiny just-born foal Sojiro had sent him out on his journey with… Hanzo can feel himself swelling with pride.

That is, until Cassidy throws his Pokéball and his attention is focusing on the beam of light breaking out of the capsule.

The Pokémon that forms is… large. Almost larger than Mudsdale before. Hanzo inhales deeply through his nose, closes his eyes briefly and tells himself to calm down.

By the time he opens them again, the last Pokémon of the League has revealed itself.

An Arcanine.

A humongous one, at that. Hanzo starts to suspect that Cassidy went out of his way to get the largest Pokémon that he could find just to match his own larger-than-life personality.

It seems fitting, somehow, that the last fight would not be determined through a type difference but through raw strength. The Arcanine looks just as eager as King, throwing its head back and howling loud enough to make Hanzo’s eardrums hurt.

King is not daunted, though; his diamond hard hoofs keep digging at the already broken ground of the arena, plumes of fire and smoke streaming from his nostrils as he waits for the ring from above signaling the go-ahead for the opponents.

The second it blares out, Arcanine and King are off and Hanzo honestly has trouble keeping up with them. From the strained expression on Cole’s face he can tell that he is at least not alone in that. They both kind of stand there, bodies tense and fists balled at their sides until they realize that the fight between the two Pokémon is too fast for them to issue any orders.

Cassidy reaches up, taking off his hat and scrubbing a hand through his tangled hair, a frown on his face, while Hanzo slowly starts to relax himself. A certain feeling of… peace washes over him. Like whatever happens from here on out is no longer in his hands. There is nothing he can do to somehow sway the fight between these two fiery titans.

Or is there?

King’s fire is well distinguishable from Arcanine’s, even as they intertwine and form a blaze that is honestly hard to endure for a human being. Even the Rotom in their cameras burst away like flies, carefully hanging high up beneath the ceiling and trying to get their action shots from there somehow.

Hanzo takes a step back, trying to shield his face from the rock debris flying his way. The little chips of stone hurt quite a bit as they fly against him, thrown up from the huge Arcanine paws and King’s hoofs.

Just when one of those shards hits his forearm hard enough to cut him and draw blood, does a sudden idea spring into his head.

The epiphany has him feel a little weak on his legs, honestly. His eyes try to track the movement of the Pokémon as they race through the arena and keep bumping into each other. For now it looks like they’re still playing more than anything else, but King’s movements seem a little… different, somehow.

“King!” he shouts out, urgency in his voice. He doesn’t know how to convey to his partner what to do but…

King throws his head in the air and neighs.

He… knows. He must have realized the same moment as Hanzo what their tactic has to be. Or maybe Hanzo somehow telepathically connected with his Pokémon. At this point in the long, arduous gauntlet of fights, he’d believe it.

He watches as King struggles to somehow cut into the arena when the Arcanine doggedly keeps on the inside, trying to herd it outside of the perimeter.

He utilizes what he can best: his legs. With a mighty push, King jumps into the air and over the Arcanine’s back. The massive Pokémon comes to a sliding halt, its tongue lolling out of its maw. It does not look particularly angry; more like it wants to play with its opponent.

King is not there to play, however.

He’s grown really quite nicely from a haughty little baby to this formidable fighter.

Hanzo watches with pride swelling in his chest, as a wheel of fire starts up around King’s legs. The heat and the updraft that results from it pulls the little debris all around into the air, swirling in the wake of the ring of fire.

“Fire against fire?!” Cole calls out. His voice sounds doubtful; like he doesn’t know whether to start berating Hanzo or not. He must not yet have realized what they are about to do – just like the Arcanine that stands there watching with its massive head cocked questioningly.

It isn’t until the attack connects that it seems to dawn on Pokémon and trainer what is happening. The hit is far harder than it should be, as the pebbles penetrate even through the thick Arcanine fur.

It howls, staggering backwards and shaking itself vigorously to shake the fire wheel off – but by that time, King is already off to something new, looking for boulders large enough that he can kick them with his back legs against his opponent.

Hanzo has to admit that his aim is surprisingly steady. Rock after rock hits the Arcanine; hard enough that they often break apart.

The other Pokémon keeps trying to dodge but before it can get its bearings, the next rock slams into it, making it howl in pain and stagger about.

Hanzo can just watch; he even forgets to breathe. The irony of the whole situation is not lost on him – after King lost that fateful first gym against very much the same tactic coming from Baptiste’s Pokémon (and that first fight against Genji and his Rockruff), this feels like… destiny, almost.

He watches as King runs out of boulders to kick at his opponent. His arm lifts automatically, pointing at the Arcanine, mouth working independently from his rather empty head as he shouts out: “Take Down!”

King does. Oh, does he ever.

His body enveloped in a glorious blaze of blue fire, he lowers his head, sharp horn pointed directly at his opponent. Cole barks something on the other side of the field but his words do not penetrate the fog in Hanzo’s head as he watches King rushing the Arcanine and slamming hard into its side.

He does not spear it, but he hooks his horn beneath its belly and flips it up into the air.

The resulting crash once the Arcanine hits the ground can be felt throughout the arena.

There is absolute quiet stretching through the space, all eyes on the Arcanine lying in an awkward heap on the floor.

A shudder runs through its body. Hanzo’s heart sinks. He watches with dismay as the massive Pokémon begins to get back up on its legs.

King is standing with his legs braced and his head toward the ground, breathing heavily. There are occasional tremors running through his body. Hanzo does not think that he can do any more big feats of strength, especially after the self-damaging attack.

The Arcanine is back on its paws, though it too is trembling. The two Pokémon stare at each other, tight, determined expressions on their faces.

The tension in the arena becomes unbearable. Hanzo’s throat feels like it is squeezed by a massive fist.

He can tell that King is mere moments from crumpling to the floor himself…

But before that can happen, the Arcanine sinks back to the ground with a deep, exhausted grunt that seems to echo through the place.

There is another beat of absolute quiet before a horn blares from up above, signaling the end of the fight… and the whole match altogether.

A lightshow breaks out above Hanzo’s head, confetti being blasted into the space.

He just stands there, unable to really move as slowly but surely he starts to realize…

He won.