"I may not be able to win," Jingūji Yoraku said quietly to herself, her small fists balled at her sides, eyes locked on the arena. "But I was at least going to land a hit that mattered."
She had figured it out early. David's relaxed, drawn-out approach to these battles — the way he let opponents move first, the way Salamence never seemed to be pushing past a comfortable pace — it was deliberate. A game. He was holding back, and that terrifying Salamence had almost certainly never shown its full power today. For it, this had been something closer to a hunting exercise than a real fight.
But that restraint had cost him something.
If Salamence had stayed in the air the entire time and simply suppressed Bisharp with ranged attacks, the power gap between them would have made it almost impossible to land any real damage. Salamence's size did nothing to slow it down — if anything, it moved faster and more fluidly than most Salamence its level, and at range it was nearly untouchable.
But David had wanted to beat her on the ground, in close combat, on Bisharp's terms. That choice had given her the opening she needed. Close range meant contact. Contact meant Metal Burst had something to work with.
Bisharp's attacks couldn't hurt you, she thought. But your own power? That's a different question.
She had built the whole play around that single idea. And it had worked — at least partially. The Metal Burst had connected. Bisharp's effort had not been wasted.
She held onto that. At least there were results.
Then the smoke cleared, and Jingūji Yoraku's eyes went wide.
"That's — how is that possible?"
"RAAAUGH!!!"
A roar tore through the smoke — deep, furious, and loud enough to shake the arena from the inside out. The sound alone made several spectators flinch. Then a Twister erupted outward from the source of the roar, spinning rapidly from its center, and swept every trace of dust and smoke clean off the battlefield in seconds.
What it revealed was not a Salamence that had been knocked out.
The arena looked like something had detonated inside it. Craters pocked the ground. Chunks of broken earth had been scattered across the field. The walls bore blackened scorch marks. Every surface near the center of the blast showed signs of what Metal Burst — unleashed at full power on the back of a Giga Impact — was capable of. Even the protective barrier surrounding the arena had visibly dimmed.
The staff watching from the sidelines exchanged uneasy looks. That barrier was designed to withstand attacks from Professional-level Pokémon without any difficulty. Seeing it dim, even slightly, meant only one thing: the peak force of that explosion had pushed close to the Professional threshold.
This was supposed to be a student exchange match.
The Twister finished clearing the field, and through the settling haze, Salamence stood.
Its blood-red wings had risen again. Broken scales caught the light. Burn marks from the explosion crossed its body in several places, and there was blood — visible even from a distance, dark against its dark hide. Salamence's condition was not good. That much was clear to anyone watching. A Metal Burst built on the power of its own Giga Impact had dealt it serious damage.
If it had not reacted in time — using the wind currents it was always shaping around itself to partially pull back at the last instant, wrapping its wings in a layer of compressed air to absorb some of the blast — the result would have been far worse. There was a real chance it would have lost the ability to battle entirely.
But it had reacted. And it was still standing.
More than standing, actually.
Salamence's eyes, sharp and burning, swept the arena. There was nothing calm in them now. A wounded predator does not become less dangerous — it becomes more. Whatever measured restraint Salamence had been operating under for the past twenty-odd battles was gone. The ancient, aggressive bloodline that defined its species had fully surfaced, drawn out by pain and injury in a way that a clean string of easy victories never would have.
Across the field, Jingūji Yoraku looked at Salamence and — despite everything — swallowed hard. The aura radiating off it made it genuinely difficult to look at directly. She had wanted to hurt it. She had. And somehow that had made everything worse.
"Gah..."
She had, with the best intentions available to her, made a very bad situation significantly more dangerous.
In one corner of the arena, Bisharp lay completely still, its body dark with soot and burn marks. When the Rotom referee announced the result, Jingūji Yoraku recalled it without hesitation, then followed a nearby staff member toward the infirmary at a near-run.
As for her teammate — the last member of the Sakura delegation, who had now been left to face an injured and furious Salamence entirely alone — Jingūji Yoraku sent a silent wish of good luck in her direction. It was the most she could offer.
David did not watch Jingūji Yoraku leave. His attention had already shifted upward to the final trainer remaining on the Sakura Alliance side.
Salamence is in a rough state right now, he noted. Hopefully this last one can give it a proper outlet.
The girl who stepped onto the opposite platform moved with a quiet, measured composure that kept people at a natural distance. There was nothing outwardly hostile about her — she simply carried herself in a way that suggested she was not interested in being approached. Poised. Reserved. The kind of presence that filled a room without announcing itself.
She was the ace of the Sakura exchange group. One of its three leaders. A direct descendant of one of Kyoto's Six Families.
David, still half-distracted by a passing thought about why Kyoto's Six Families apparently only sent three people and seemed to stop at six rather than expanding to seven, was pulled back to the present when she arrived at her platform and looked directly at him.
She reached into her pocket and took out a Poké Ball.
"Sakura Alliance — Amatsuki Mei."
David straightened slightly.
"Cloudspire Alliance — David."
He did not add anything else. Neither did she. The introduction was brief, and then the final match of the morning began.
Amatsuki Mei's Poké Ball left her hand in a gentle arc. The capsule opened, red light flashed, and a Pokémon took shape on the field.
Green and white, with a proud upright frame and twin arm blades as sharp and clean as drawn swords.
"Gallade!!!"
GalladeType: Psychic / Fighting — Gender: MaleEnergy Level: 35 (Superior)Ability: SharpnessPotential: Light RedHeld Item: Cleanse TagKnown Moves: Fury Cutter, Leaf Blade, Sacred Sword, Slash, Close Combat, Aerial Ace, Protect, Psycho Cut, Heal Pulse, Air Slash, Earthquake, Fire Punch, Icy Wind, Solar Blade, Shadow Claw, Sunny Day, Mystical Fire, Shadow Sneak, Swords Dance, Assurance, Mean Look…
David studied the Gallade across the field with genuine interest.
The resemblance was there — but this was clearly not on the level of his mother's Gallade. Still, the Pokémon in front of him was strong. Mid-Superior level, well-trained, with a moveset built around blade techniques that Sharpness would amplify considerably. Amatsuki Mei was almost certainly the strongest member of the Sakura delegation.
David settled into position, arms crossed, quietly recalculating.
Salamence was still able to fight. But the Metal Burst had taken a real toll. The stamina drain from the full morning of battles combined with the injuries from that explosion meant that letting this match drag on was not an option. He needed to end it quickly.
This has to be fast.
There was one other thing working in his favor. Gallade was a Psychic- and Fighting-type. Against a Dragon- and Flying-type Salamence, neither typing offered a super effective hit. If it had been a Gardevoir instead — with its Fairy typing cutting directly into Dragon — the calculus would have been very different, and a quick finish would have been much harder to pull off.
But it was a Gallade.
The Rotom referee signaled the start.
The final battle of the morning had begun.