And Still, I Climb (ch6)

CHAPTER 6 

The entrance to Pinwheel Forest did not give me goosebumps at all.

I’d seen it from a distance in the hours I’d spent skulking through the outpost—though this morning, that had been rather impossible, with the amount of people wanting to talk to me. Melody had spent the better part of last night on the phone with me to make sure I wouldn’t put my foot in my mouth and ruin the start of what could be a wonderful reputation, but gone were the days where I’d behaved like a scared feral little child.

I yawned, hand covering my mouth as I stared into the forest that would be little more than a stroll through a garden if we let it. Back in Sinnoh, Eterna Forest had been like a gaping maw of cold and dark, waiting to swallow you whole. The trees choked out light and warmth from the sun, and the silence had been enough to make every breath seem like it would herald death by alerting whatever lurked in the dense treeline.

Here, there was nothing but a steady stream of trainers prancing through the road, smiles on their faces and talking as if their voices wouldn’t alert a Pokemon waiting to turn them into their next meal.

“How welcoming,” I whispered. At least Mimi still seemed excited; the Meltan sat on my shoulder, tail wagging excitedly and drawing plenty of curious glances wondering what they even were. 

To my side, Hayate stretched with a groan. “Ordinarily, it’d take us like three to four days to get through the woods,” he said. That much time with a paved road surprised me, but Unova was huge. “Since we have to stray off the usual path, though, we’re going to be in there for like a week, maybe a little more.”

This is perfect! Cassianus spoke directly into my mind behind me. They carried with them the new bags I’d needed to buy containing all the supplies needed for my team. You can make this individual your closest Unovan friend and learn everything about him!

I restrained a snort as thunder boomed overhead, rain softly pattering on Cass’ barrier above us. It’d be raining in this part of Unova for the better part of the next week. “Sounds good,” I told Hayate. 

“Well then, shall we?” 

I placed a hand on his shoulder before he stepped forward. “Wait—your Pokemon?”

The teenager frowned, glancing down at the Pokeballs on his belt. “What about ‘em?”

“Well, you’ve gotta have one out,” before long, I noticed his confused stare and continued, “for protection. Stantler’s latent psychic abilities will do good here. I mean, Cass is great—they’ve saved my life countless times and I’m confident they’ll cover both of us. But it’s important to learn, you know?”

I noticed the gears turn in his head as understanding settled within him. Hayate shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Plus, my Stantler hates walking.”

“But—”

“Let’s go!” he exclaimed with barely concealed false enthusiasm, and stepped into the forest.

Reluctantly, I followed behind him, desperate to ignore the itch I couldn’t scratch. My eyes constantly lingered at the back of his neck, which was so, so vulnerable. Ignoring that no matter how safe a route was, there could always be accidents, what if I’d wanted him dead? A trainer of his calibre wouldn’t have had many options, but he was willingly turning a point three percent chance of survival into a zero out of his own volition.

I rolled my shoulders, shaking off the unease and fully took in Pinwheel Forest. The road cut a clean grey line through the greenery, bordered by signs, Ranger markers, and what would be the occasional emergency station. But beyond those thin human comforts, the forest reclaimed the land.

Towering trees lined the roadside, their thick branches intertwining high overhead to form a sprawling canopy that filtered the muted sunlight into soft, shifting patches across the pavement. Rainwater clung to the leaves, dripping lazily onto the asphalt below, while the steady patter of rain against the canopy rolled overhead, softened before it ever reached the ground. Every breath was warmed by summer and tasted fresh and damp, rich with wet wood, moss, and a faint sweetness.

The humidity here was far worse than anything I’d ever experienced in Sinnoh; it was as if the very air had weight and clung to my lungs, turning breathing into a rather uncomfortable experience. Hayate, though, seemed right as rain, given that he was used to this weather and my Claydol was keeping him dry.

“You been through this place often?” I asked, voice quiet by instinct. 

“Only my first year because every guide you watch online tells you to hit Striaton if you’re a beginner,” Hayate answered with his hands in his pockets. “Got my ass kicked by Lenora on the way there, but then I did get my first badge by beating Chili.”

I gave him an understanding hum.

“Second year, I went up north instead and got three badges. I’m hoping to get at least five this year.”

“Pretty good progress.”

He laughed. “You don’t need to pity me.”

“I’m not. The best trainer I’ve ever known grew slowly too—though admittedly faster than you,” I said. My Meltan slid down from my shoulder and onto my arm, taking in the sights of the forest. “He was by far the best trainer in the region by twenty-five. People say he would have reached Cynthia herself.”

Hayate failed to repress his interest. He was still a trainer, no matter how uninterested he pretended to be. “Would have? What happened to him?”

“He was killed.”

He’d given me his dream, and I’d wrapped myself in the grandness of the idea of reaching beyond what was believed possible. I peered through one of the openings in the leaves at the cloudy sky above and smiled. 

“He was a great man, Craig Goodwill,” I added, “and his story’s unfortunately over.”

We continued through the woods, making unimpeded progress for a few dozen minutes until a girl challenged Hayate to a battle. She and her friend she traveled with had originally planned on asking for a double battle, but steered clear when she noticed Cass behind me. The boy looked to be a tad subservient, carrying the girl’s umbrella everywhere she went. I’d planned on passively observing and maybe catching up with my Sinnohan friends while he fought, but something she’d said caught my attention.

“We both have three Pokemon, so how ‘bout a triple battle?” the girl asked. She’d introduced herself as Shae.

Triple battles were something I’d only vaguely heard of in Sinnoh but were all the rage here, especially amongst trainers that only had three Pokemon to train the cohesion of their full team. It was important for Pokemon to know their comrades’ capabilities in full, and what better way to do this than to have them fight side by side?

“I dunno, I’m a bit tight on potions,” Hayate said.

“I could lend you some of mine if needed,” I said.

With a look that seemed halfway annoyed and thankful, he agreed to the challenge and stepped on the side of the road with me and Cass standing right behind him to observe, something the Johtohan seemed less than pleased about. Out of his Pokeballs spilled out his Dunsparce, Stantler and Lickitung in a line while Shae did the same with a Timburr, a Palpitoad and a Trubbish.

I gave Cass a look, and they understood what I wanted. A second barrier shimmered, this time only around us, to isolate the sound of our voices behind Hayate. The last thing a trainer wanted when they were focused on winning was for a backseating know-it-all to commentate.

The battle began in earnest with the confident-looking Trubbish soaking the wet earth with bubbling Acid, the poison carried even further by Palpitoad shifting the ground with a cute stomp. 

Hayate quickly swept his arm. “Dunsparce, use Dig! Stantler and Lickitung, use Supersonic and Confuse Ray!”

Dunsparce vanished beneath the poisoned mud just as the corrosive puddles reached him. Above ground, Lickitung threw her head back and unleashed a shrill Supersonic that rippled across the battlefield. Trubbish recoiled, screwing its eyes shut as Palpitoad covered her ears with dry mud. That, however, left Stantler. The normal type’s eyes flashed an eerie blue. A shimmering orb drifted from its antlers, weaving effortlessly through the lingering sound waves before bursting against Palpitoad's forehead. The water type blinked, swayed on its feet, then turned in a slow, confused circle as if it had forgotten where the battle was taking place.

Which was the perfect opportunity for Dunsparce to burst from the ground, tail drilling into Trubbish and sending the Pokemon flying back. For his level, that was a lot of firepower on that Dunsparce. His tail shimmered chock-full of ground type energy, nearly bursting at the seams.

“Pretty solid strategy, to have two of his Pokemon disrupt while Dunsparce wreaks havoc from underground,” I noted. 

“But it being a triple battle means Dunsparce can’t disrupt too much,” Cass whirred. “While on the other hand…”

That left Timburr unattended. Left alone on the poisoned grounds, the fighting type’s veins bulged with a sickly purple, and yet he grinned and blurred forward faster than he had any right to do, muscles barely contained within his sickly skin. With one sweep of his wooden log, he smashed Dunsparce away from Trubbish and followed the normal type with a wicked laugh.

Mimi warbled, eye turning into a slit as they stared away from the battle. Violence remained unpleasant to them.

I punched an open palm. “Guts! And Palpitoad are resistant to poison, so her entire team doesn’t care.” It must have been a strategy she’d used in her Gym Battles. Palpitoad to flood the grounds in cumbersome mud, Trubbish to poison them, and Timburr to finish the job. The fighting type moved in the wet earth as if it was solid ground—they’d done the little things like train his footing too.

Hayate had stronger Pokemon in a vacuum, but he’d been caught with his pants down.

“He’s been caught with his pants down,” Cass mirrored me.

“Jinx. You owe me.”

“I have no earthly possessions but my wonderful mind, and I do not want you to take it from me.” They paused for a second. “Wait a second, you didn’t even say—did you attempt to Jinx me with a thought?” Cassianus let out an exaggerated sigh ripped out of a cartoon. “I might rebel, my King.” 

I snorted as Hayate let panic seep through his following orders. With Timburr hot on the slow Dunsparce’s heels, he scrambled to have his other two Pokemon get the fighting type off him. Stantler wrestled him away with a Confusion, but it only contained Timburr for a second, and he threw his log right in his face, stunning him.

Lickitung, meanwhile, stepped behind Timburr with a quiet step. Now lacking his main weapon, she wrapped her sticky tongue around the fighting type to hold him still—but that was a mistake.

Tunnel vision was the death of a trainer, especially in a battle with six moving parts at once. Now free from the Supersonic, Trubbish opened his mouth, letting loose a massive torrent of Acid that soaked Lickitung and Timburr alike. With the normal type’s tongue now so poisoned it pained her to even use it, the battle was a foregone conclusion.

“So what do you think, all in all?” Cass asked.

I crossed my arms. “Scars make us who we are, and he has plenty.” Not physical, but mental. A hundred losses, a hundred cuts that made him so afraid of defeat he never really played to win. “Not so easy to fix.”

Every battle, Hayate Hoshino entered with the fear of losing, and it crippled him. 

“You do enjoy taking random children under your wing, I’ve learned.”

“Didn’t seem that open to it, though. I’ve left the door open.” I shrugged, watching Timburr’s fist bury into Lickitung’s stomach as Stantler barely recovered from having his wooden log hit him in the face. Palpitoad still reeled from Confuse Ray, but the effect was fading. “I shouldn’t force things; we’ll see where the year takes us.”

And while training him might be fun, we had other things to worry about right now. My attention now drifting away from the forgone battle, my eyes settled on one of the massive trees next to us, rising high like skyscrapers into the heavens. If you listened closely, you could hear it softly creaking over and over, as if it were breathing.

When entering an old monster’s lair, one had to watch out for a three things according to to my old mentor Bellatrix—one of the many lessons the Hatterene imparted upon me, this one before my leave for Unova.

One, its permanence across the land.

Two, its character, for every Pokemon twisted the land to its liking.

Three, and this one was most important: a story that clung to the lips of all around it.

Domains were, as a rule, places a Pokemon powerful enough tricked the world into believing it was theirs to shape. The Battle Frontier’s tropical-like temperature back in Sinnoh; Eterna Forest that seemed larger than it actually was from the inside, cold and dark; the Lost Tower, misty and standing still despite its age and a birthplace for a large chunk of the region’s ghosts.

Stories. The world ran on them, and I was eager to find out if Pinwheel Forest had a monster at its heart.

——

I watched as Hayate masked the frustration of yet another loss. After applying potions to his Pokemon, recalling them, and paying his opponent a hefty sum—lost battles here were usually a tad more expensive, I’d noticed—we were back on the road, listening to the sound of the rain.

He’d been rather quiet since the battle, listening to music with his earbuds in and stewing on his own thoughts of what could have gone differently, and I found no avenue to break through the silence yet. Remembering some of my own losses, I’d sometimes stay locked inside my Pokemon Center room forgetting the outside world for hours at a time, going over every single frame of the fight with an obsession that bordered on insanity.

I had gotten better about that, but I remained who I’d always been, and so could understand the burning frustration that could burrow in one’s heart. Like a knot in your chest, it tightened so gradually you never noticed until breathing became work.

He’d never unraveled that knot, I theorized as I watched him walk slightly ahead of me.

The hours went by with me idly speaking to Cassianus about the history of this place. Pinwheel Forest had gotten its name because of its winding, circling paths that were so easy to get lost in, but beyond that, we knew nothing.

“Not many Pokemon along the road,” I noticed. 

If one wanted to catch them, they needed to venture at least a little into the woods, not that it was any more dangerous. I’d seen a few. Another Timburr clearly wanting to be caught and waiting for a trainer to choose them, a few Hoothoot taking shelter within a hollow, fallen piece of bark, an Audino carrying an injured Pidove to safety until I stopped by and spent a potion on the flying type’s wing. “Most of them must be a lot more wary of humans.”

If a lot of them are so scared of getting caught, Cassianus spoke into my mind, then why are there any Pokemon near the road at all? They could enjoy their freedom forever should they sink deeper into the forest.

Every year, the Rangers rehomed Pokemon they perceived as weak enough for beginner trainers on a lot of routes. On good years, there were enough bred to not have to touch the wilds. This year, however, had been another story, and even wild Pokemon had been forced onto routes like this one.

The green-haired boy’s words resonated in my mind for a moment.

“You’d be right.” 

The Claydol pleasantly closed their eyes. Of course I am—

“But think for a second. The wild is still the wild. This is the only area where Pokemon this weak can thrive because the stronger ones know to not threaten humanity, or the Rangers will come knocking,” I explained. “If you’re a weak Pokemon who isn’t used to harsh life, you’re stuck between two choices. You either live on the outskirts and accept that you might be hunted, or…” I glanced at another group of trainers. “You risk getting caught even if you don’t want to. The Pokemon we’re seeing here have made that choice.”

In Sinnoh, at the very least, the government did not tamper with nature. The Pokemon on routes were those who lived there all their life.

They’d also needed to negotiate with Pokemon holding domains over certain areas, like Bellatrix on route 215. There had to be a give and take, or the safety of trainers couldn’t be guaranteed—there were still accidents and deaths every Circuit, but the number had been going down yearly.

And yet, when one looked at the state of Unova, they saw an unending safety for trainers year after year. The last death from a wild Pokemon had been last year in Chargestone Cave out west, and there had been three deaths total that year. Three out of tens of thousands of kids participating.

I’d seen what this world had to hide. The Pokemon who were larger than life, capable of destroying one of Unova’s small towns on a dime before any competent team of Rangers could respond. It did happen out in frontier towns in the far west of the country, which was why the Ranger presence there loomed so large, but the big cities like Nacrene hadn’t been attacked in nearly a century according to my research.

So why were Pokemon not fighting back? 

I was determined to find out before we got out of the forest.CHAPTER 6 

The entrance to Pinwheel Forest did not give me goosebumps at all.

I’d seen it from a distance in the hours I’d spent skulking through the outpost—though this morning, that had been rather impossible, with the amount of people wanting to talk to me. Melody had spent the better part of last night on the phone with me to make sure I wouldn’t put my foot in my mouth and ruin the start of what could be a wonderful reputation, but gone were the days where I’d behaved like a scared feral little child.

I yawned, hand covering my mouth as I stared into the forest that would be little more than a stroll through a garden if we let it. Back in Sinnoh, Eterna Forest had been like a gaping maw of cold and dark, waiting to swallow you whole. The trees choked out light and warmth from the sun, and the silence had been enough to make every breath seem like it would herald death by alerting whatever lurked in the dense treeline.

Here, there was nothing but a steady stream of trainers prancing through the road, smiles on their faces and talking as if their voices wouldn’t alert a Pokemon waiting to turn them into their next meal.

“How welcoming,” I whispered. At least Mimi still seemed excited; the Meltan sat on my shoulder, tail wagging excitedly and drawing plenty of curious glances wondering what they even were. 

To my side, Hayate stretched with a groan. “Ordinarily, it’d take us like three to four days to get through the woods,” he said. That much time with a paved road surprised me, but Unova was huge. “Since we have to stray off the usual path, though, we’re going to be in there for like a week, maybe a little more.”

This is perfect! Cassianus spoke directly into my mind behind me. They carried with them the new bags I’d needed to buy containing all the supplies needed for my team. You can make this individual your closest Unovan friend and learn everything about him!

I restrained a snort as thunder boomed overhead, rain softly pattering on Cass’ barrier above us. It’d be raining in this part of Unova for the better part of next week. “Sounds good,” I told Hayate. 

“Well then, shall we?” 

I placed a hand on his shoulder before he stepped forward. “Wait—your Pokemon?”

The teenager frowned, glancing down at the Pokeballs on his belt. “What about ‘em?”

“Well, you’ve gotta have one out,” before long, I noticed his confused stare and continued, “for protection. Stantler’s latent psychic abilities will do good here. I mean, Cass is great—they’ve saved my life countless times and I’m confident they’ll cover both of us. But it’s important to learn, you know?”

I noticed the gears turn in his head as understanding settled within him. Hayate shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Plus, my Stantler hates walking.”

“But—”

“Let’s go!” he exclaimed with barely concealed false enthusiasm, and stepped into the forest.

Reluctantly, I followed behind him, desperate to ignore the itch I couldn’t scratch. My eyes constantly lingered at the back of his neck, which was so, so vulnerable. Ignoring that no matter how safe a route was, there could always be accidents, what if I’d wanted him dead? A trainer of his calibre wouldn’t have had many options, but he was willingly turning a point- three percent chance of survival into a zero out of his own volition.

I rolled my shoulders, shaking off the unease and fully took in Pinwheel Forest. The road cut a clean grey line through the greenery, bordered by signs, Ranger markers, and what would be the occasional emergency station. But beyond those thin human comforts, the forest reclaimed the land.

Towering trees lined the roadside, their thick branches intertwining high overhead to form a sprawling canopy that filtered the muted sunlight into soft, shifting patches across the pavement. Rainwater clung to the leaves, dripping lazily onto the asphalt below, while the steady patter of rain against the canopy rolled overhead, softened before it ever reached the ground. Every breath was warmed by summer and tasted fresh and damp, rich with wet wood, moss, and a faint sweetness.

The humidity here was far worse than anything I’d ever experienced in Sinnoh; it was as if the very air had weight and clung to my lungs, turning breathing into a rather uncomfortable experience. Hayate, though, seemed right as rain, given that he was used to this weather and my Claydol was keeping him dry.

“You been through this place often?” I asked, voice quiet by instinct. 

“Only my first year because every guide you watch online tells you to hit Striaton if you’re a beginner,” Hayate answered with his hands in his pockets. “Got my ass kicked by Lenora on the way there, but then I did get my first badge by beating Chili.”

I gave him an understanding hum.

“Second year, I went up north instead and got three badges. I’m hoping to get at least five this year.”

“Pretty good progress.”

He laughed. “You don’t need to pity me.”

“I’m not. The best trainer I’ve ever known grew slowly too—though admittedly faster than you,” I said. My Meltan slid down from my shoulder and onto my arm, taking in the sights of the forest. “He was by far the best trainer in the region by twenty-five. People say he would have reached Cynthia herself.”

Hayate failed to repress his interest. He was still a trainer, no matter how uninterested he pretended to be. “Would have? What happened to him?”

“He was killed.”

He’d given me his dream, and I’d wrapped myself in the grandness of the idea of reaching beyond what was believed possible. I peered through one of the openings in the leaves at the cloudy sky above and smiled. 

“He was a great man, Craig Goodwill,” I added, “and his story’s unfortunately over.”

We continued through the woods, making unimpeded progress for a few dozen minutes until a girl challenged Hayate to a battle. She and her friend she traveled with had originally planned on asking for a double battle, but steered clear when she noticed Cass behind me. The boy looked to be a tad subservient, carrying the girl’s umbrella everywhere she went. I’d planned on passively observing and maybe catching up with my Sinnohan friends while he fought, but something she’d said caught my attention.

“We both have three Pokemon, so how ‘bout a triple battle?” the girl asked. She’d introduced herself as Shae.

Triple battles were something I’d only vaguely heard of in Sinnoh but were all the rage here, especially amongst trainers that only had three Pokemon to train the cohesion of their full team. It was important for Pokemon to know their comrades’ capabilities in full, and what better way to do this than to have them fight side by side?

“I dunno, I’m a bit tight on potions,” Hayate said.

“I could lend you some of mine if needed,” I said.

With a look that seemed halfway annoyed and thankful, he agreed to the challenge and stepped on the side of the road with me and Cass standing right behind him to observe, something the Johtohan seemed less than pleased about. Out of his Pokeballs spilled out his Dunsparce, Stantler and Lickitung in a line while Shae did the same with a Timburr, a Palpitoad and a Trubbish.

I gave Cass a look, and they understood what I wanted. A second barrier shimmered, this time only around us, to isolate the sound of our voices behind Hayate. The last thing a trainer wanted when they were focused on winning was for a backseating know-it-all to commentate.

The battle began in earnest with the confident-looking Trubbish soaking the wet earth with bubbling Acid, the poison carried even further by Palpitoad shifting the ground with a cute stomp. 

Hayate quickly swept his arm. “Dunsparce, use Dig! Stantler and Lickitung, use Supersonic and Confuse Ray!”

Dunsparce vanished beneath the poisoned mud just as the corrosive puddles reached him. Above ground, Lickitung threw her head back and unleashed a shrill Supersonic that rippled across the battlefield. Trubbish recoiled, screwing its eyes shut as Palpitoad covered her ears with dry mud. That, however, left Stantler. The normal type’s eyes flashed an eerie blue. A shimmering orb drifted from its antlers, weaving effortlessly through the lingering sound waves before bursting against Palpitoad's forehead. The water type blinked, swayed on its feet, then turned in a slow, confused circle as if it had forgotten where the battle was taking place.

Which was the perfect opportunity for Dunsparce to burst from the ground, tail drilling into Trubbish and sending the Pokemon flying back. For his level, that was a lot of firepower on that Dunsparce. His tail shimmered chock-full of ground type energy, nearly bursting at the seams.

“Pretty solid strategy, to have two of his Pokemon disrupt while Dunsparce wreaks havoc from underground,” I noted. 

“But it being a triple battle means Dunsparce can’t disrupt too much,” Cass whirred. “While on the other hand…”

That left Timburr unattended. Left alone on the poisoned grounds, the fighting type’s veins bulged with a sickly purple, and yet he grinned and blurred forward faster than he had any right to do, muscles barely contained within his sickly skin. With one sweep of his wooden log, he smashed Dunsparce away from Trubbish and followed the normal type with a wicked laugh.

Mimi warbled, eye turning into a slit as they stared away from the battle. Violence remained unpleasant to them.

I punched an open palm. “Guts! And Palpitoad are resistant to poison, so her entire team doesn’t care.” It must have been a strategy she’d used in her Gym Battles. Palpitoad to flood the grounds in cumbersome mud, Trubbish to poison them, and Timburr to finish the job. The fighting type moved in the wet earth as if it was solid ground—they’d done the little things like train his footing too.

Hayate had stronger Pokemon in a vacuum, but he’d been caught with his pants down.

“He’s been caught with his pants down,” Cass mirrored me.

“Jinx. You owe me.”

“I have no earthly possessions but my wonderful mind, and I do not want you to take it from me.” They paused for a second. “Wait a second, you didn’t even say—did you attempt to Jinx me with a thought?” Cassianus let out an exaggerated sigh ripped out of a cartoon. “I might rebel, my King.” 

I snorted as Hayate let panic seep through his following orders. With Timburr hot on the slow Dunsparce’s heels, he scrambled to have his other two Pokemon get the fighting type off him. Stantler wrestled him away with a Confusion, but it only contained Timburr for a second, and he threw his log right in his face, stunning him.

Lickitung, meanwhile, stepped behind Timburr with a quiet step. Now lacking his main weapon, she wrapped her sticky tongue around the fighting type to hold him still—but that was a mistake.

Tunnel vision was the death of a trainer, especially in a battle with six moving parts at once. Now free from the Supersonic, Trubbish opened his mouth, letting loose a massive torrent of Acid that soaked Lickitung and Timburr alike. With the normal type’s tongue now so poisoned it pained her to even use it, the battle was a foregone conclusion.

“So what do you think, all in all?” Cass asked.

I crossed my arms. “Scars make us who we are, and he has plenty.” Not physical, but mental. A hundred losses, a hundred cuts that made him so afraid of defeat he never really played to win. “Not so easy to fix.”

Every battle, Hayate Hoshino entered with the fear of losing, and it crippled him. 

“You do enjoy taking random children under your wing, I’ve learned.”

“Didn’t seem that open to it, though. I’ve left the door open.” I shrugged, watching Timburr’s fist bury into Lickitung’s stomach as Stantler barely recovered from having his wooden log hit him in the face. Palpitoad still reeled from Confuse Ray, but the effect was fading. “I shouldn’t force things; we’ll see where the year takes us.”

And while training him might be fun, we had other things to worry about right now. My attention now drifting away from the forgone battle, my eyes settled on one of the massive trees next to us, rising high like skyscrapers into the heavens. If you listened closely, you could hear it softly creaking over and over, as if it were breathing.

When entering an old monster’s lair, one had to watch out for three things according to my old mentor Bellatrix—one of the many lessons the Hatterene imparted upon me, this one before my leave for Unova.

One, its permanence across the land.

Two, its character, for eachPokemon twisted the land to its liking.

Three, and this one was most important: a story that clung to the lips of all around it.

Domains were, as a rule, places a Pokemon powerful enough tricked the world into believing it was theirs to shape. The Battle Frontier’s tropical-like temperature back in Sinnoh; Eterna Forest that seemed larger than it actually was from the inside, cold and dark; the Lost Tower, misty and standing still despite its age and a birthplace for a large chunk of the region’s ghosts.

Stories. The world ran on them, and I was eager to find out if Pinwheel Forest had a monster at its heart.

——

I watched as Hayate masked the frustration of yet another loss. After applying potions to his Pokemon, recalling them, and paying his opponent a hefty sum—lost battles here were usually a tad more expensive, I’d noticed—we were back on the road, listening to the sound of the rain.

He’d been rather quiet since the battle, listening to music with his earbuds in and stewing on his own thoughts of what could have gone differently, and I found no avenue to break through the silence yet. Remembering some of my own losses, I’d sometimes stay locked inside my Pokemon Center room forgetting the outside world for hours at a time, going over every single frame of the fight with an obsession that bordered on insanity.

I had gotten better about that, but I remained who I’d always been, and so could understand the burning frustration that could burrow in one’s heart. Like a knot in your chest, it tightened so gradually you never noticed until breathing became work.

He’d never unraveled that knot, I theorized as I watched him walk slightly ahead of me.

The hours went by with me idly speaking to Cassianus about the history of this place. Pinwheel Forest had gotten its name because of its winding, circling paths that were so easy to get lost in, but beyond that, we knew nothing.

“Not many Pokemon along the road,” I noticed. 

If one wanted to catch them, they needed to venture at least a little into the woods, not that it was any more dangerous. I’d seen a few. Another Timburr clearly wanting to be caught and waiting for a trainer to choose them, a few Hoothoot taking shelter within a hollow, fallen piece of bark, an Audino carrying an injured Pidove to safety until I stopped by and spent a potion on the flying type’s wing. “Most of them must be a lot more wary of humans.”

If a lot of them are so scared of getting caught, Cassianus spoke into my mind, then why are there any Pokemon near the road at all? They could enjoy their freedom forever should they sink deeper into the forest.

Every year, the Rangers rehomed Pokemon they perceived as weak enough for beginner trainers on a lot of routes. On good years, there were enough bred to not have to touch the wilds. This year, however, had been another story, and even wild Pokemon had been forced onto routes like this one.

The green-haired boy’s words resonated in my mind for a moment.

“You’d be right.” 

The Claydol pleasantly closed their eyes. Of course I am—

“But think for a second. The wild is still the wild. This is the only area where Pokemon this weak can thrive because the stronger ones know to not threaten humanity, or the Rangers will come knocking,” I explained. “If you’re a weak Pokemon who isn’t used to a harsh life, you’re stuck between two choices. You either live on the outskirts and accept that you might be hunted, or…” I glanced at another group of trainers. “You risk getting caught even if you don’t want to. The Pokemon we’re seeing here have made that choice.”

In Sinnoh, at the very least, the government did not tamper with nature. The Pokemon on routes were those who lived there all their life.

They’d also needed to negotiate with Pokemon holding domains over certain areas, like Bellatrix on route 215. There had to be a give and take, or the safety of trainers couldn’t be guaranteed—there were still accidents and deaths every Circuit, but the number had been going down yearly.

And yet, when one looked at the state of Unova, they saw an unending safety for trainers year after year. The last death from a wild Pokemon had been last year in Chargestone Cave out west, and there had been three deaths total that year. Three out of tens of thousands of kids participating.

I’d seen what this world had to hide. The Pokemon who were larger than life, capable of destroying one of Unova’s small towns on a dime before any competent team of Rangers could respond. It did happen out in frontier towns in the far west of the country, which was why the Ranger presence there loomed so large, but the big cities like Nacrene hadn’t been attacked in nearly a century according to my research.

So why were Pokemon not fighting back? 

I was determined to find out before we got out of the forest.CHAPTER 6 

The entrance to Pinwheel Forest did not give me goosebumps at all.

I’d seen it from a distance in the hours I’d spent skulking through the outpost—though this morning, that had been rather impossible, with the amount of people wanting to talk to me. Melody had spent the better part of last night on the phone with me to make sure I wouldn’t put my foot in my mouth and ruin the start of what could be a wonderful reputation, but gone were the days where I’d behaved like a scared feral little child.

I yawned, hand covering my mouth as I stared into the forest that would be little more than a stroll through a garden if we let it. Back in Sinnoh, Eterna Forest had been like a gaping maw of cold and dark, waiting to swallow you whole. The trees choked out light and warmth from the sun, and the silence had been enough to make every breath seem like it would herald death by alerting whatever lurked in the dense treeline.

Here, there was nothing but a steady stream of trainers prancing through the road, smiles on their faces and talking as if their voices wouldn’t alert a Pokemon waiting to turn them into their next meal.

“How welcoming,” I whispered. At least Mimi still seemed excited; the Meltan sat on my shoulder, tail wagging excitedly and drawing plenty of curious glances wondering what they even were. 

To my side, Hayate stretched with a groan. “Ordinarily, it’d take us like three to four days to get through the woods,” he said. That much time with a paved road surprised me, but Unova was huge. “Since we have to stray off the usual path, though, we’re going to be in there for like a week, maybe a little more.”

This is perfect! Cassianus spoke directly into my mind behind me. They carried with them the new bags I’d needed to buy containing all the supplies needed for my team. You can make this individual your closest Unovan friend and learn everything about him!

I restrained a snort as thunder boomed overhead, rain softly pattering on Cass’ barrier above us. It’d be raining in this part of Unova for the better part of next week. “Sounds good,” I told Hayate. 

“Well then, shall we?” 

I placed a hand on his shoulder before he stepped forward. “Wait—your Pokemon?”

The teenager frowned, glancing down at the Pokeballs on his belt. “What about ‘em?”

“Well, you’ve gotta have one out,” before long, I noticed his confused stare and continued, “for protection. Stantler’s latent psychic abilities will do good here. I mean, Cass is great—they’ve saved my life countless times and I’m confident they’ll cover both of us. But it’s important to learn, you know?”

I noticed the gears turn in his head as understanding settled within him. Hayate shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Plus, my Stantler hates walking.”

“But—”

“Let’s go!” he exclaimed with barely concealed false enthusiasm, and stepped into the forest.

Reluctantly, I followed behind him, desperate to ignore the itch I couldn’t scratch. My eyes constantly lingered at the back of his neck, which was so, so vulnerable. Ignoring that no matter how safe a route was, there could always be accidents, what if I’d wanted him dead? A trainer of his calibre wouldn’t have had many options, but he was willingly turning a point- three percent chance of survival into a zero out of his own volition.

I rolled my shoulders, shaking off the unease and fully took in Pinwheel Forest. The road cut a clean grey line through the greenery, bordered by signs, Ranger markers, and what would be the occasional emergency station. But beyond those thin human comforts, the forest reclaimed the land.

Towering trees lined the roadside, their thick branches intertwining high overhead to form a sprawling canopy that filtered the muted sunlight into soft, shifting patches across the pavement. Rainwater clung to the leaves, dripping lazily onto the asphalt below, while the steady patter of rain against the canopy rolled overhead, softened before it ever reached the ground. Every breath was warmed by summer and tasted fresh and damp, rich with wet wood, moss, and a faint sweetness.

The humidity here was far worse than anything I’d ever experienced in Sinnoh; it was as if the very air had weight and clung to my lungs, turning breathing into a rather uncomfortable experience. Hayate, though, seemed right as rain, given that he was used to this weather and my Claydol was keeping him dry.

“You been through this place often?” I asked, voice quiet by instinct. 

“Only my first year because every guide you watch online tells you to hit Striaton if you’re a beginner,” Hayate answered with his hands in his pockets. “Got my ass kicked by Lenora on the way there, but then I did get my first badge by beating Chili.”

I gave him an understanding hum.

“Second year, I went up north instead and got three badges. I’m hoping to get at least five this year.”

“Pretty good progress.”

He laughed. “You don’t need to pity me.”

“I’m not. The best trainer I’ve ever known grew slowly too—though admittedly faster than you,” I said. My Meltan slid down from my shoulder and onto my arm, taking in the sights of the forest. “He was by far the best trainer in the region by twenty-five. People say he would have reached Cynthia herself.”

Hayate failed to repress his interest. He was still a trainer, no matter how uninterested he pretended to be. “Would have? What happened to him?”

“He was killed.”

He’d given me his dream, and I’d wrapped myself in the grandness of the idea of reaching beyond what was believed possible. I peered through one of the openings in the leaves at the cloudy sky above and smiled. 

“He was a great man, Craig Goodwill,” I added, “and his story’s unfortunately over.”

We continued through the woods, making unimpeded progress for a few dozen minutes until a girl challenged Hayate to a battle. She and her friend she traveled with had originally planned on asking for a double battle, but steered clear when she noticed Cass behind me. The boy looked to be a tad subservient, carrying the girl’s umbrella everywhere she went. I’d planned on passively observing and maybe catching up with my Sinnohan friends while he fought, but something she’d said caught my attention.

“We both have three Pokemon, so how ‘bout a triple battle?” the girl asked. She’d introduced herself as Shae.

Triple battles were something I’d only vaguely heard of in Sinnoh but were all the rage here, especially amongst trainers that only had three Pokemon to train the cohesion of their full team. It was important for Pokemon to know their comrades’ capabilities in full, and what better way to do this than to have them fight side by side?

“I dunno, I’m a bit tight on potions,” Hayate said.

“I could lend you some of mine if needed,” I said.

With a look that seemed halfway annoyed and thankful, he agreed to the challenge and stepped on the side of the road with me and Cass standing right behind him to observe, something the Johtohan seemed less than pleased about. Out of his Pokeballs spilled out his Dunsparce, Stantler and Lickitung in a line while Shae did the same with a Timburr, a Palpitoad and a Trubbish.

I gave Cass a look, and they understood what I wanted. A second barrier shimmered, this time only around us, to isolate the sound of our voices behind Hayate. The last thing a trainer wanted when they were focused on winning was for a backseating know-it-all to commentate.

The battle began in earnest with the confident-looking Trubbish soaking the wet earth with bubbling Acid, the poison carried even further by Palpitoad shifting the ground with a cute stomp. 

Hayate quickly swept his arm. “Dunsparce, use Dig! Stantler and Lickitung, use Supersonic and Confuse Ray!”

Dunsparce vanished beneath the poisoned mud just as the corrosive puddles reached him. Above ground, Lickitung threw her head back and unleashed a shrill Supersonic that rippled across the battlefield. Trubbish recoiled, screwing its eyes shut as Palpitoad covered her ears with dry mud. That, however, left Stantler. The normal type’s eyes flashed an eerie blue. A shimmering orb drifted from its antlers, weaving effortlessly through the lingering sound waves before bursting against Palpitoad's forehead. The water type blinked, swayed on its feet, then turned in a slow, confused circle as if it had forgotten where the battle was taking place.

Which was the perfect opportunity for Dunsparce to burst from the ground, tail drilling into Trubbish and sending the Pokemon flying back. For his level, that was a lot of firepower on that Dunsparce. His tail shimmered chock-full of ground type energy, nearly bursting at the seams.

“Pretty solid strategy, to have two of his Pokemon disrupt while Dunsparce wreaks havoc from underground,” I noted. 

“But it being a triple battle means Dunsparce can’t disrupt too much,” Cass whirred. “While on the other hand…”

That left Timburr unattended. Left alone on the poisoned grounds, the fighting type’s veins bulged with a sickly purple, and yet he grinned and blurred forward faster than he had any right to do, muscles barely contained within his sickly skin. With one sweep of his wooden log, he smashed Dunsparce away from Trubbish and followed the normal type with a wicked laugh.

Mimi warbled, eye turning into a slit as they stared away from the battle. Violence remained unpleasant to them.

I punched an open palm. “Guts! And Palpitoad are resistant to poison, so her entire team doesn’t care.” It must have been a strategy she’d used in her Gym Battles. Palpitoad to flood the grounds in cumbersome mud, Trubbish to poison them, and Timburr to finish the job. The fighting type moved in the wet earth as if it was solid ground—they’d done the little things like train his footing too.

Hayate had stronger Pokemon in a vacuum, but he’d been caught with his pants down.

“He’s been caught with his pants down,” Cass mirrored me.

“Jinx. You owe me.”

“I have no earthly possessions but my wonderful mind, and I do not want you to take it from me.” They paused for a second. “Wait a second, you didn’t even say—did you attempt to Jinx me with a thought?” Cassianus let out an exaggerated sigh ripped out of a cartoon. “I might rebel, my King.” 

I snorted as Hayate let panic seep through his following orders. With Timburr hot on the slow Dunsparce’s heels, he scrambled to have his other two Pokemon get the fighting type off him. Stantler wrestled him away with a Confusion, but it only contained Timburr for a second, and he threw his log right in his face, stunning him.

Lickitung, meanwhile, stepped behind Timburr with a quiet step. Now lacking his main weapon, she wrapped her sticky tongue around the fighting type to hold him still—but that was a mistake.

Tunnel vision was the death of a trainer, especially in a battle with six moving parts at once. Now free from the Supersonic, Trubbish opened his mouth, letting loose a massive torrent of Acid that soaked Lickitung and Timburr alike. With the normal type’s tongue now so poisoned it pained her to even use it, the battle was a foregone conclusion.

“So what do you think, all in all?” Cass asked.

I crossed my arms. “Scars make us who we are, and he has plenty.” Not physical, but mental. A hundred losses, a hundred cuts that made him so afraid of defeat he never really played to win. “Not so easy to fix.”

Every battle, Hayate Hoshino entered with the fear of losing, and it crippled him. 

“You do enjoy taking random children under your wing, I’ve learned.”

“Didn’t seem that open to it, though. I’ve left the door open.” I shrugged, watching Timburr’s fist bury into Lickitung’s stomach as Stantler barely recovered from having his wooden log hit him in the face. Palpitoad still reeled from Confuse Ray, but the effect was fading. “I shouldn’t force things; we’ll see where the year takes us.”

And while training him might be fun, we had other things to worry about right now. My attention now drifting away from the forgone battle, my eyes settled on one of the massive trees next to us, rising high like skyscrapers into the heavens. If you listened closely, you could hear it softly creaking over and over, as if it were breathing.

When entering an old monster’s lair, one had to watch out for three things according to my old mentor Bellatrix—one of the many lessons the Hatterene imparted upon me, this one before my leave for Unova.

One, its permanence across the land.

Two, its character, for eachPokemon twisted the land to its liking.

Three, and this one was most important: a story that clung to the lips of all around it.

Domains were, as a rule, places a Pokemon powerful enough tricked the world into believing it was theirs to shape. The Battle Frontier’s tropical-like temperature back in Sinnoh; Eterna Forest that seemed larger than it actually was from the inside, cold and dark; the Lost Tower, misty and standing still despite its age and a birthplace for a large chunk of the region’s ghosts.

Stories. The world ran on them, and I was eager to find out if Pinwheel Forest had a monster at its heart.

——

I watched as Hayate masked the frustration of yet another loss. After applying potions to his Pokemon, recalling them, and paying his opponent a hefty sum—lost battles here were usually a tad more expensive, I’d noticed—we were back on the road, listening to the sound of the rain.

He’d been rather quiet since the battle, listening to music with his earbuds in and stewing on his own thoughts of what could have gone differently, and I found no avenue to break through the silence yet. Remembering some of my own losses, I’d sometimes stay locked inside my Pokemon Center room forgetting the outside world for hours at a time, going over every single frame of the fight with an obsession that bordered on insanity.

I had gotten better about that, but I remained who I’d always been, and so could understand the burning frustration that could burrow in one’s heart. Like a knot in your chest, it tightened so gradually you never noticed until breathing became work.

He’d never unraveled that knot, I theorized as I watched him walk slightly ahead of me.

The hours went by with me idly speaking to Cassianus about the history of this place. Pinwheel Forest had gotten its name because of its winding, circling paths that were so easy to get lost in, but beyond that, we knew nothing.

“Not many Pokemon along the road,” I noticed. 

If one wanted to catch them, they needed to venture at least a little into the woods, not that it was any more dangerous. I’d seen a few. Another Timburr clearly wanting to be caught and waiting for a trainer to choose them, a few Hoothoot taking shelter within a hollow, fallen piece of bark, an Audino carrying an injured Pidove to safety until I stopped by and spent a potion on the flying type’s wing. “Most of them must be a lot more wary of humans.”

If a lot of them are so scared of getting caught, Cassianus spoke into my mind, then why are there any Pokemon near the road at all? They could enjoy their freedom forever should they sink deeper into the forest.

Every year, the Rangers rehomed Pokemon they perceived as weak enough for beginner trainers on a lot of routes. On good years, there were enough bred to not have to touch the wilds. This year, however, had been another story, and even wild Pokemon had been forced onto routes like this one.

The green-haired boy’s words resonated in my mind for a moment.

“You’d be right.” 

The Claydol pleasantly closed their eyes. Of course I am—

“But think for a second. The wild is still the wild. This is the only area where Pokemon this weak can thrive because the stronger ones know to not threaten humanity, or the Rangers will come knocking,” I explained. “If you’re a weak Pokemon who isn’t used to a harsh life, you’re stuck between two choices. You either live on the outskirts and accept that you might be hunted, or…” I glanced at another group of trainers. “You risk getting caught even if you don’t want to. The Pokemon we’re seeing here have made that choice.”

In Sinnoh, at the very least, the government did not tamper with nature. The Pokemon on routes were those who lived there all their life.

They’d also needed to negotiate with Pokemon holding domains over certain areas, like Bellatrix on route 215. There had to be a give and take, or the safety of trainers couldn’t be guaranteed—there were still accidents and deaths every Circuit, but the number had been going down yearly.

And yet, when one looked at the state of Unova, they saw an unending safety for trainers year after year. The last death from a wild Pokemon had been last year in Chargestone Cave out west, and there had been three deaths total that year. Three out of tens of thousands of kids participating.

I’d seen what this world had to hide. The Pokemon who were larger than life, capable of destroying one of Unova’s small towns on a dime before any competent team of Rangers could respond. It did happen out in frontier towns in the far west of the country, which was why the Ranger presence there loomed so large, but the big cities like Nacrene hadn’t been attacked in nearly a century according to my research.

So why were Pokemon not fighting back? 

I was determined to find out before we got out of the forest.