#*le dead*

Incineroar is taller than all of them, not combined, but respectively; she walks with a swagger defined by her position as Johnny’s starter Pokémon. She’s good and she knows it, hanging around Johnny’s flank and posing behind him at every intersection. She warps the air around her and Johnny, haloing them in heat.

Max eyes Johnny’s belt. Two other Pokéballs. “He doesn’t have a full team?” Max whispers to Decidueye. “We’re gonna wipe the floor with this guy.”

Decidueye grunts something, eventually retracting his wing from Max’s shoulder so they can both stand tall. Max waves at Johnny. Decidueye waves at Incineroar. Max immediately flips a switch in his brain to go full-frontal taunt-mode. “You’re late! Like ten minutes late. Five more and you would’ve been considered a forfeit, eh? You were too scarreeeddd to fight good ol’ Puckett?” 

Johnny doesn’t even grace him with an answer until he’s in position up the road, a little elevated over Max and looking more important than he usually does when they’re in the same altitude. Incineroar pumps her fists in the air, streaming smoke between long, feline teeth. Johnny takes both Pokéballs from his belt and releases them; two zapping streams of red come out of the palm-sized capture gadgets, forming Arcanine and Torkoal at either side of him.

Arcanine is not significantly taller than Incineroar but it is noticeable given that Incineroar stands on two feet and Arcanine on four; she’s huge, orange, and fluffy, growling at Max and Decidueye. Bold streaks of black zip through her fur and fire prods out from her teeth. Torkoal is tiny--tiny in comparison to both Incineroar and Arcanine, but he pours smoke into the air. His shell is black and his body is fire-orange, but his expression is sleepy, like he just got woken up from a nap. Max knows that Torkoal has an ability to summon sunlight in matches, anddespite it being late afternoon, Max watches tendrils of light begin to crest over Mayview Middle like it was early morning. It gives Max the jeebies, unsettled by the power in a turtle that’s no taller than Johnny’s calf.

Arcanine won’t take her eyes off of Decidueye, though, making him nervous. He ruffles his feathers and stands tall, but he’s beginning to get agitated under the weight of her predatory watch.

Max isn’t going to be able to use him, he’s realizing. Johnny has put him already in a bad, bad spot by immediately having a type advantage here.

“Welllll, where’s your Pokémon, Max? Or are ya scared of Jhonny and his team of bullies? I’ll fight you an’ Decidueye, four on two if yer gonna make me!”

“What?” Max asks. “You’re just--you’re not even waiting for one-on-one rules? Are you some sort of minor championship heretic??” Max doesn’t doubt Johnny will smear him on the pavement three against one--or four against two, if they’re included--so he’s got no choice. Max feels over his belt for anyone who can help, here.

He needs Pokémon to physically rebuke Johnny and his crew. Fumbling for the right ones, Max picks out Steelix and Stoutland as he calls a command to Decidueye: “Get in the air, and I’ll call you when I need you. Go!” Decidueye looks at Max for a long moment, and then vanishes into the sky in a whirl of leaves, feathers, and the smell of spring.

Steelix is by far Max’s biggest Pokémon, the size of or bigger than most houses on Max’s street; its full body materializes after the red stream of the Pokéball has already disappeared, coiling up the road to Mayview Middle and onto the grass outside of it, forming a ring around Max and Johnny like Ouroboros. Its language, unlike the rest of Max’s Pokémon, doesn’t say its name--instead, it makes sounds like tearing steel and engine rumbling. It blocks out the sun that Torkoal summoned that peeked over  Mayview Middle’s roof. It rumbles and grumbles, purring like an old train.

Stoutland is a sort of increasingly disappointing size with the others involved in the team fight, standing closer to the boys’ height, but a little bit smaller. She’s impressively well groomed for just being brushed occasionally by Max or Zoey, often preferring to sit behind Max’s dad’s feet while he runs the corner store. She’s got a huge, platinum gold moustache that trails behind her on the ground. She’s blue, brown, and white, trading normal-looking for reliability in Max’s team.

She does stand in front of Max, blocking Arcanine’s line of sight. Stoutland snurfles beneath her moustache, a mix of a sound somewhere between a bark, a growl, and a wheeze. “Yeah, me too, girl.” Max presses his palm against the back of Stoutland’s neck. She has locked eyes with Arcanine, now, and it’s on. 

Max feels the air change. Johnny must, too, because he grins wild and deranged at Max. 

“Lonnie!” Johnny shouts, starting off the match. He points deadset at Max and Stoutland, “Darkest Lariat!”

“Lonnie?” Max asks, a little prematurely, as Incineroar--Lonnie--vaults over Johnny’s head to throw herself at Stoutland. Max takes a sharp inhale as Stoutland prepares herself for the hit. Incineroar is all bounding energy, reeling back her arms and sinking her fists into Stoutland’s side. Stoutland bends, groaning and whining. Max watches as Incineroar seems to literally get hotter next to Stoutland as a response of attacking.

“Stoutland!” Max yells out, after backing up, feeling a bit like a coward. “Work Up! Don’t let her take you down!”

Stoutland, a couch potato in her heart, growls thickly with sweat underneath her fur. She steadies herself next to Incineroar and rams her side into Incineroar’s front, uncaring about fire or consequence. Max sees a fire lit in her eyes.

“Lame! Status-affecting moves? Yer not gonna survive long like that at all! Lonnie, Thrash!”

“Stoutland, Take Down!” 

It happens all in one second--Incineroar’s eyes shine brightly as she truly focuses on her opponent. Stoutland won’t go down without a fight, though, so they collide as two big balls of fur--Incineroar reels her fists back high into the air and slams them into Stoutland’s back, as Stoutland rams forward to hit the brunt of her head against the center of Incineroar’s chest.

Stoutland lands a hard enough blow on Incineroar’s chest that she’s propelled backwards from the force of it, landing on her back. But the two consecutive hits against Stoutland’s back has caused her to fall on the ground, wobbly knees unable to rise. She looks exhausted from her attack, and she turns back to whine at Max.

He knows she’s finished the second she blinks her eyes slowly at him. She could go again, if she needed to. If he made her. But it would be cruel.

So he doesn’t, he takes out her Pokéball and recalls her in an instant. “Good job, girl,” he says to the gadget. “You did your best.”

Max looks up at where Johnny has come over to check on Incineroar, close enough that if Max really tried, he could use Sucker Punch against Johnny’s face and end the battle very quickly. But Max has honor, and ethics, and also there is that huge dog that breathes fire in the back to worry about.

“You good?” Johnny is asking to Incineroar. He pets her face, brushing her fur back. “You look confused. S’okay. I get that too when I punch really good.”

“You still on, or what?” Max calls out to Johnny. He looks up, then, eyes alight much like Incineroar. Steelix rumbles around them, as loud as a stadium. It makes a slow movement around them in a circle, entrapping Arcanine and Torkoal in the back to not go beyond their given guidelines. Max has a few feet behind him to back up before he meets steel.

It’s making a fighting ring. Johnny may not believe in the minor championship code of conduct, but Steelix is making sure they can’t run away. One of them has to lose.

Max handles his next Pokéball, letting it inflate in his hand and posing in a really cool way with it. He has to get Incineroar out of this fight, as quickly as possible. He slams the Pokéball on the ground to let Rattata out--she was one of his dad’s very first Pokémon back here in Mayview, and the only Pokémon Max has that’s named. Lovingly named Peter Jr., she also wears a golden and red sash that’s hung from her right shoulder down to her left hip.

“Yer not gonna even wait for her to get up?” Johnny asks accusingly. Max and Peter Jr. both stop, look at each other, and eventually Peter Jr. sits on the ground to wait.

“Oh--oh, so you get to just, fully charge me, breaking the rules of conduct for minor championship matches, but I have to wait for her to get up?? Get her up! Steelix won’t let us leave and I don’t have all night!”

“She didn’t charge ya before you brought out yer beasties,” Johnny says as he fishes something out of his pocket and feeds it to Incineroar. It looked like an underripe strawberry, still green. Incineroar’s eyes focus, dilating, as she rises from the ground and stands in front of Johnny. She snarls. Peter Jr. assumes position, swishing her tail like a pendulum. Back-forth, back-forth.

Behind Incineroar, Johnny is looking up at her with careful eyes, like he’s really thinking about what to do. He’s looking hard enough at her that she eventually looks back, giving him a thumbs up. Johnny relaxes.

Max can’t figure out Johnny as much as he may try, so he decides to ignore the gooey feelings of love between Pokémon and their trainers, so he yells: “Peter Jr., Quick Attack!” 

Out like lightning from between Max’s feet, Peter Jr. is the fastest thing on the field. It’s like she vanishes, only the tiny sound of the pitter patter of her feet audible. Steelix’s rumbling almost covers that, too. Incineroar immediately is vulnerable, eyes darting in every direction to try and intercept Peter Jr.’s attack. She grapples at the air, hoping to catch Peter Jr. by luck alone.

It’s not enough; Peter Jr. leaps into the air and becomes visible, opening her mouth and outstretching her claws and promptly scratching the absolute heck out of Incineroar’s face and biting her ear.

Incineroar yelps, smacking Peter Jr. off of her face and slamming her into the dirt. Incineroar looks irritated at best, but Peter Jr. is barely holding on. She rises from the dirt on unsteady legs, but rises nonetheless, holding on despite everything. Incineroar watches her from her feet, where Peter Jr. barely goes up to Incineroar’s ankles.

“Endeavor, Junior!” Max shouts, feeling wide awake from the heat of battle. Peter Jr.’s eyes sparkle like a child having received enough candy to kill a horse, and then she goes haywire against Incineroar. She bites and snaps and growls and claws at Incineroar’s whole body; she’s running circles around the big lug, disappearing from view and reappearing for another bite and scratch.

Johnny backs up from the little purple whirlwind that Max unleashed on the battlefield. Incineroar can’t keep up, scratching at open air, trying to stomp her feet on Peter Jr. to make her quit. Within a few seconds, Peter Jr. has reduced Incineroar to a furious, growling mess, unable to catch or stop Peter Jr.’s onslaught.

Johnny knows that Peter Jr. isn’t catchable, but he still shouts out a direction: “Darkest Lariat, the second you see ‘er!”

“Quick Attack, again, and then we have it!” Incineroar already knows what’s going to happen, so she at least goes out gracefully. Peter Jr. rams into Incineroar’s chest as she tries to cover her vulnerability, but Peter Jr. has rolled into a perfect ball and hits exactly where Stoutland had hit Incineroar just earlier with such speed it’s inevitable that it’s a Pokémon downing move. Incineroar falls with a mighty thump, Peter Jr. standing victoriously on top of her like a little purple showboat.

Peter Jr. chirps and titters, but before Max can recall her back into her Pokéball, Arcanine comes out of nowhere and slams her paw into Peter Jr., knocking her out cold in an instant.

Arcanine snarls at Max, drooling with anticipation.

Max recalls Peter Jr.’s unconscious body back into her ball as Johnny recalls Incineroar. Arcanine wags her tail close to the ground, baring her teeth. She’s taller than both boys by a significant amount, Johnny’s face reaching the center of her chest. He holds onto her as Max considers his options.

He stares up at his giant steel snake, That so far has done nothing helpful. “Could you help me out a little? Like, look at the big dog that just took out Junior?? For like, a second? Steelix!”

“Why doesn’t it listen t’ya?” Johnny asks, petting Arcanine’s chest fur. “Bonnie listens.” 

Johnny has a Lonnie and a Bonnie? Why does everything match with this guy? 

“Beats me!” Max throws his arms in the air. “I got it here, so maybe it’s a Mayview thing!”

“Nah, I think it just doesn’t like ya,” Johnny says confidently. “You gotta just hang it with it more.”

“It’s thirty feet tall! I can’t fit it in my house!” Max points up to Steelix’s head, which is probably a couple feet across by itself. 

“Sounds like a personal problem,” Johnny says. “Now, ya gonna throw out another Poké, or what?? I thought ya were all overconfident!”

Max’s own smack talking has led him to certain doom. He reaches for his still active Pokéballs and throws out Magnemite, a Pokémon he’s had since Baxborough that seems to refuse to evolve on principle.

“Spark!” Max yells out, pointing to Arcanine. He’s wasting no time, here, and Johnny doesn’t seem to be either. He backs up as soon as he hears Max’s intake of breath, and in contrast calls for Arcanine: “Flame Charge!”

Arcanine roars, fire and smoke flowing out of its mouth. That fire dances around Arcanine’s body until it covers her completely, a beacon of fire. Magnemite buzzes and whirs alive with electricity, seemingly causing it to happen out of nowhere. Bold golden lightning streaks zap around Magnemite’s whole body, and they collide.

Arcanine opens her mouth and takes Magnemite in there like a tennis ball, paralyzing her in the process. Magnemite is consumed by flame, but manages to drag itself out of Arcanine’s mouth with minimal damage. It looks charred, but still moves.

Arcanine is dancing in a circle, barely balanced, gritting her teeth against the pain of electrocution until eventually she falls still, on her side, eyes wild and furious.

“Go ahead, Gyro Ball!” Magnemite reels itself backward like a drawn car toy, and rams itself into Arcanine’s side again, as she lays unresponsive from the remaining electricity. It makes her look like a live wire, fur sticking up at all ends.  Johnny is looking for something in his pockets, and then behind the meat of the fight, curses a weiner dog who ate his remaining lum berries.

Magnemite is a little metal ball with magnets on it, so if nothing else, it’s a hard hitter. Arcanine takes the punch with almost no sound, and then turns back to Johnny as the paralysis begins to wear off. Johnny sheds a proud tear.

“You toughed it out! Yer a good girl, Bonnie! Don’t let this metal tennis ball tell ya otherwise!”

Arcanine wags her tail, beating it against the road.

Max thinks that’s pretty cute, actually. He turns to Magnemite. “The pure, genuine love of a Pokémon and their trainer, Magnemite. It just can’t be ignored all the time. You get that, don’t you?”

Magnemite bounces in the air, waiting for direction, but pleased with the conversation. With a WOOSH and a WHACK, Steelix sends both Arcanine and Magnemite flying off of the field and out of the imposed fighting ring. Johnny and Max react instantly, recalling Arcanine and Magnemite back into their Pokéballs before they can go soaring in the air.

When Max looks back to question Steelix’s actions, it opens its mouth and shrieks like compacting metal at a car impound lot. Max is realizing that he’s made a huge mistake leaving Steelix out in the open for the fight--that while it was behaving itself earlier, Johnny was right. It doesn’t like him.

And all of the fighting is making it agitated. Mad it can’t join or mad that it’s watching other Pokémon fight, Max can’t risk either of them getting hurt, or worse.

Max tries to recapture Steelix in its Pokéball but it refutes the effort, shrieking again and coiling the fighting ring tighter until Torkoal, Johnny, and Max have to get closer. He turns to Johnny with a look of panic. “You have to help me get Steelix under control.” Johnny nods, gritting his teeth. “Decidueye! Leaf Blade!”

From up in the air where Max had left Decidueye to watch until it was time to re-enter the fight, he takes a blade made from his feathers and takes a sharp swan dive to Steelix’s head. The slice is swift, but barely gets through against Steelix’s skin, making it lash out and rise up against Decidueye, who has to retreat.

“Eruption, Connie!” Johnny calls out, Torkoal, otherwise uninvolved in the fight, immediately runs up to where Steelix has let its body become vulnerable as it focuses on Decidueye. Instead of smoke pluming out of Torkoal’s back, lava pukes out, smearing on Steelix’s body and harmlessly sliding off of Torkoal’s shell. Debris and heat and smoke come right after, popping like popcorn. Steelix squeals like a derailing train, its tail whipping around to catch any lingering flies on the field. Johnny and Max hit the deck to avoid being crushed.

Max takes out his final Pokémon, Chatot, while lying on the ground on his belly and yells out a direction the instant he’s materialized out of the gadget. “Chatter! We can’t let it think, go!”

Chatot, a multicolored parrot with a music note on the back of its head, flies up to meet Decidueye and lets out a mind-numbing screech, sounding suspiciously like game night at Max’s house turned up five hundred decibels.

It works as well as Max could’ve hoped, making Steelix sway in the air where it had risen so high. Steelix’s mouth opens and closes, before it strikes the ground not far from where Max and Johnny are still on the ground. It bites into the road, leaving behind a devastating crater as it bites into the asphalt, chewing the debris.

“It was gonna… eat me…” Max says quietly, delirious with fear. Johnny puts his hand on Max’s sweat-soaked back.

“Obviously,” he says.

Maybe being eaten would be a better outcome than being comforted by Johnny.

“But we almost got it, so you can’t go back now! Let’s do a team-up. Get yer bird-man, and he’ll get Connie, and they’ll do a sick move! Just call ‘im!”

“Decidueye!” Max shouts, hailing him from the ground. Decidueye spots him immediately, swan-diving for the three of them, spinning Chatot in a circle from the force of his velocity. “Pick up Torkoal--”

“--Connie--” Johnny intercepts.

“Irrelevant!” Max screeches, bafflement combining with fear to make him sound insane, “Pick up Connie and protect him!”

Decidueye takes a slight curve on his trajectory, picking up Torkoal with one arm and swinging back into the air with almost no loss of speed. Decidueye is an incredible partner, one that Max can’t be grateful enough for.

“Thanks, mom,” he says quietly.

“Decidueye is yer mom?” Johnny asks, side-eyeing him.

“Oh, my God. Shut up. Forever.”

Above them, Decidueye is spinning circles around a still-confused Steelix. With only a mere moment of Pokémon-to-Pokémon communication, Decidueye sweeps close to Steelix’s face and releases Torkoal like a bowling ball, as Torkoal uses Body Slam to hit Steelix as hard as he can. Decidueye follows with another slice of Leaf Blade, a double whammy that successfully takes down Steelix. It tries to roar, but comes out weak, then it growls, and it eventually falls with enough force that it causes a localized, mini earthquake. Johnny and Max hold onto each other through the force.

“Get it!” Johnny says. “Get it in yer ball, before it wakes up!” Max nods, fumbling with his belt on the ground, and then catches Steelix back into its Pokéball before it can go full murderous again.

Decidueye lands behind them with Torkoal, gently putting it on the ground and then helping Max and Johnny get back on their feet. Chatot saunters from the air, landing on Torkoal’s back with a chirp.

Johnny dusts himself off as Max tries to catch his breath. The evidence of their fight is shown in the Steelix-shaped crushed grass to the side of the road, and the Steelix-mouth-sized hole in the road. “We didn’t finish our fight standard, that’s for sure. But yer a good trainer, I can tell. So don’t you worry about having to come back an’ fight me, less you want to! Then, I’ll make time in my schedule. An’ as for your Starchman stardge, here you go, kid. You deserve it.”

Johnny hands over a Starchman stardge, a cardboard badge that’s been spraypainted golden. This is the token that the Mayview Minor Championships use for proof of winning battles, and for gyms, Max would get ten.

“Gee, thank you. And I won’t tell anyone you threaten to fight in your Pokémon battles, like a weirdo.” 

“S’not weird, s’manly.” Johnny says. Max gives him a face of mild disgust. “Just take yer badge, and rest up! Next up… is Master Guerra’s Fighting gym, even if he’s no master t’me.”

“Isabel’s grandad?” Max asks.

“Who’s Isabel?” Johnny asks.