"Woooooo!"
The Dragonite let out a pained cry, arching backward as it was knocked through the air.
Before many pairs of eyes, it plummeted into the deep, murky pond hidden within the oasis forest.
KA-POW!
A massive geyser of water erupted as the Dragonite slammed into the depths.
Splash, splash, drip...
The water eventually rained back down, settling into a tense, shimmering calm.
"Dragonite!" Iris shrieked, sprinting toward the water's edge.
Above the fray, Hydreigon hovered, his body wreathed in a sinister red mist. His eyes burned with a chaotic crimson glare, and he threw his three heads back, letting out a deafening, bone-chilling roar.
"Hydrei-g-o-n-n-n!!"
"Ugh."
Kashiwagi winced, clutching his head. His brain felt like a scrambled mess, as if someone had shoved a thousand stray thoughts into his mind at once.
He tried to focus, to reach out and "hear" his partner's true feelings, but all he got was static.
Is this the Outrage?
"Get down!" Kashiwagi shouted, gesturing sharply.
"Get down here, now!"
No response.
The Hydreigon just kept wailing with that raspy, grating voice of his, as if he were trying to intimidate the entire forest or flex his absolute dominance.
"I said get down!"
Kashiwagi's voice dropped an octave, dripping with authority. Only then did the Hydreigon snap out of his frenzy, blink, and slowly descend.
"Hy-drei... g-o-n..."
The once-ferocious Hydreigon lowered his heads, his growls turning into a sheepish rumble.
Kashiwagi didn't scold him—it wasn't like the dragon did it on purpose.
He placed a hand on Hydreigon's chest, hoping to tune into his heart, but the connection was blocked by the raw, surging instability of the red aura.
In the games, after using Outrage, a Pokémon loses the ability to switch out, use items, or think clearly for a few turns. Why?
Kashiwagi had concluded it came down to two things.
First, the sheer, relentless flow of Dragon-type energy.
Second, the mental and physical state of "berserk" rage makes it nearly impossible for the Pokémon to process its Trainer's commands.
It's like a person so angry they've completely lost their filter.
During this window, Hydreigon's reaction time was sluggish, and his logic defaulted to pure, raw instinct.
Ironically, the more experienced the Pokémon, the more dangerous they become while enraged.
It was a double-edged sword.
A reckless, inexperienced Pokémon would just flail wildly, often turning a winning battle into a loss. That was exactly why Outrage wasn't his favorite move. Plus, as a special attacker, burning time in a physical frenzy felt like a waste of potential.
Still, with practice, the control issues had improved.
Case in point: Hydreigon was still mid-frenzy, yet he had actually listened to Kashiwagi's voice and come down to earth. That was no small feat. It really showed just how much talent this three-headed menace had.
He'd only used Outrage because the position had been awkward—a point-blank Dragon Pulse might have clipped his own partner, and a Dragon Rush wouldn't have had the room to gain momentum. Only the Outrage, boosted by the Dragon Fang, could one-shot the Dragonite.
The result spoke for itself.
Even if the Dragonite had used Roost to heal, it wouldn't have been enough to trigger its Multiscale ability in time. It was game over.
"A little weaker than I expected," Kashiwagi muttered.
Draco Meteor had landed some heavy hits, but he'd expected the Dragonite to endure that.
Was the Dragonite just not at its peak, or was his Hydreigon, equipped with the Dragon Fang, just that cracked?
He leaned toward the latter.
Hydreigon had spent a week in the Dragon's Den, brawling with every youth, adult, and elder dragon in the place.
He'd leveled up to 66 in less than half a month. Combined with the Dragon Fang, his moves were hitting like a truck—he'd even pulled off the "Triple Meteor" combo that had been impossible back in Village of Dragons.
As the red mist around Hydreigon began to fade and his eyes returned to normal, Kashiwagi quickly returned him to his Poké Ball before the inevitable confusion set in.
Iris emerged from the grass, holding her own Poké Ball.
"Dragonite is unable to battle!" she announced, though her voice lacked its usual spark. She reached for the ball containing Axew.
"Wait! That's enough," Kashiwagi called out, raising a hand.
There was no point in sparring with a sleeping Axew, even if she managed to wake it up.
"It's getting repetitive. Besides, I think I felt something just now."
"Eh? Really?" Iris blinked, surprised.
She'd been too worried about Dragonite to notice the subtle shift in Kashiwagi's expression before the final command.
He nodded.
"If my senses aren't lying to me, then yeah."
"Well then, let's put it to the test!" Iris clicked her Poké Ball, letting out the snoring Axew.
"Try it on Axew. Tell me what he's feeling right now."
Kashiwagi hesitated. Starting off by reading someone else's Pokémon? He suspected his ability to "hear" was tied to the deep bond he'd forged with his own team.
Trying it on a stranger's Pokémon? That might be a different story entirely.
"But what if it works?" Kashiwagi murmured, testing the waters.
He knelt before the still-slumbering Axew and placed a gentle hand on its head, closing his eyes to attune his senses.
"..."
Nothing.
All he could perceive was the steady, rhythmic breathing of the Axew and the soft, radiating warmth beneath its deep-green armor plating.
Aside from that? Just a void.
No flickers of thought, no emotional resonance—just a quiet, peaceful dream.
"I can't feel a thing," he sighed, opening his eyes.
Iris nodded sympathetically.
"I can tell. You were frowning the whole time—not even a hint of a smile."
"Uh, what does smiling have to do with it?"
"Because Axew is having a great dream about playing with other Pokémon!" Iris replied, looking at him like the answer was obvious.
"If you were truly tapped into its heart, you'd be smiling right along with it."
As if on cue, the Axew jolted awake.
It blinked, glancing around at the chaotic, churned-up field, then shifted its gaze to the two trainers standing side-by-side.
Did we win? Axew looked up at Iris with wide, hopeful eyes.
"Sorry, buddy. We lost," she admitted with blunt, refreshing honesty.
Axew's shoulders slumped, its head dropping in disappointment.
Iris moved quickly, placing a comforting hand on its head.
"It's okay! We'll just come back and win next time!"
"Axew... w-n-o-n!"
Axew looked up, locked eyes with its trainer, and nodded with fierce, renewed determination.
In that split second, the air between them seemed to hum with an unspoken connection—pure, unfiltered trust.
Watching them, Kashiwagi spoke up.
"You know, the feeling I got earlier... it must be exactly what you and Axew are doing right now, isn't it?"
"Huh?"
"I mean, the reason I can 'hear' bits and pieces of Hydreigon's feelings and thoughts... it's just the bond we've built. All those days living together, training, battling—it's just raw, accumulated synergy."
He paused, looking at his own hand.
"Maybe this isn't some mystical, innate power at all. Maybe it's just the reflection of the bond I have with Hydreigon."
Emotional resonance.
Even sensing the static of an Outrage frenzy. It was entirely possible this had nothing to do with some legendary "Heart of the Dragon."
Iris tilted her head. "So, did you feel it or not?"
"I felt it."
"Then there's no problem!" Iris beamed, ruffling Axew's hair.
"Once you've felt that connection once, you'll be able to understand the hearts of Pokémon you don't even know yet."
She looked at him earnestly.
"I've been wanting to say this for a while: it's not about the mechanics or the logic. It's about the love you have for Dragon-types! It's the desire to communicate and understand them! That heart of yours is more important than anything else!"
"'The heart is more important...'" Kashiwagi echoed quietly.
He fell silent, letting the words sink in. He realized he'd been looking at this all wrong.
He had been trying to use the "Heart of the Dragon" as a shortcut—a convenient tool to fast-track his rapport with new Pokémon.
That clinical, utilitarian mindset had blinded him to the source of Iris's power: Passion.
An intense, overwhelming love for Dragon-type Pokémon that compelled her to reach out, to listen, and to truly know them.
That zeal, that unwavering warmth—that was the foundation of the power itself.
"I managed to hear Hydreigon's heart while forgetting the very reason it was even possible," Kashiwagi said with a self-deprecating chuckle.
"I don't know if that makes me lucky, or just incredibly dense."
Iris blinked, then smiled brilliantly.
"It just proves how much you love your dragons! At the very least, it shows how much you care for Hydreigon, doesn't it?"
"Rather than calling it heaven's favor, I'd say it's simple: because you cherish Hydreigon so deeply, you're getting back the exact same level of devotion in return," she said solemnly.
"…I've been enlightened."
Kashiwagi sighed in genuine admiration. Iris, for all her youthful spirit, could occasionally drop wisdom that hit harder than a Max-Power Hyper Beam.
He offered a smile.
"Thank you. You've given me a fascinating experience and some solid advice. Who knows? Maybe I really will grasp that mysterious power in the future."
"You definitely will! We both love Dragon-types so much!" Iris cheered him on, then laughed.
"And I have to thank you, too. This battle showed me exactly where I'm lacking. Battling a strong Dragon Tamer was the right move!"
...
The two headed back to the Pokémon Center, laughing and chatting along the way, and left their battered partners in Nurse Joy's capable hands.
Once the treatments were finished, they shared breakfast.
In the world of Pokémon, battlefields are often the best places to forge friendships.
Dragonite might be a bit of a hotheaded "little brother," but it wasn't a sore loser. It gracefully accepted that Hydreigon was the stronger of the two and even offered to share its food.
Hydreigon, usually acting like the king of "cold and aloof" when out in the world, saw how chummy his Trainer was with the Dragonite's, so he relented and shared his own snacks, too.
Just like that, a friendship was sealed between two powerful Dragons.
On the flip side, the Shiny Milotic had gained two new fanboys.
Axew and Gabite's adoration started with her beauty but stayed for her power.
It was the purest kind of admiration—completely free of any ulterior motives.
Milotic, who always enjoyed making friends, didn't mind the attention at all. She graciously accepted their "tributes" and rewarded them with a few graceful gestures of friendship.
"It's funny, they're both sharing food, but the vibes are completely different, aren't they?" Iris mused, looking puzzled.
"Well… that's a bit complicated to explain," Kashiwagi said with a faint smile, deciding not to spoil the moment.
...
After breakfast, they planned to fix up the battleground, but upon arriving, they found the craters from the Draco Meteor had already been smoothed over, and even the torn-up turf had been restored.
In the distance, a Blissey was humming the "Happy-Happy" song, waddling away with a shovel and tools in hand.
"That's some professional-grade efficiency." Kashiwagi was genuinely impressed.
Iris nodded in total agreement.
...
The time to part ways had arrived.
Even after learning the reality of Meteor Falls, Iris was determined to head north, challenge the veteran Dragon Tamers there, and try her luck at catching a powerful dragon in the Dragon's Den.
Of course, she'd likely be greeted by nothing but the "Village Elder trio" and a small army of Grandma and Grandpa dragons.
Kashiwagi, meanwhile, was sticking to his schedule: head to Mauville City, crush three Gym challenges and a Pokémon Contest within two months, and prep for the Wallace Cup and the Sootopolis Gym battle.
On foot, his schedule was tight. He'd definitely be taking the high-speed trains or riding Hydreigon when time got short.
Before leaving, Kashiwagi installed a compass app on Iris's phone.
"It's a compass. Follow North and you'll never go wrong. And don't forget how the map feature works," he reminded her, only to notice her eyes had glazed over.
She had that classic "empty-head" look.
Snap!
He flicked his fingers in front of her face.
"Hey!"
Iris jolted back to reality, nodding frantically.
"Huh? Oh! Yeah! Right, right, right!"
"Right what, exactly…?"
Kashiwagi felt a headache forming.
It was only in the Pokémon world that you'd let a reckless thirteen-year-old wander off alone like this.
"Hahaha, it's fine! Everything works out in the end! Even if I get lost, I'll figure something out!" Iris laughed, completely unbothered.
Her carefree, airheaded attitude left him speechless.
Let go of the savior complex, Kashiwagi. Believe in her destiny, he told himself.
He took a deep breath, sighed, and patted her on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself."
"You too! Let's battle again next time we meet!" Iris declared confidently.
"I'll be so strong you won't even recognize me!"
"I'll be looking forward to it."
They waved their final goodbyes.
Then, he watched.
"..."
"That's West."
Kashiwagi stood frozen, silently watching the girl stride confidently toward the West—even though he'd pointed her North just a minute ago.
"Ah, wait, wrong way."
Iris froze mid-step, spun 180 degrees in an awkward whirl, and started walking again.
Kashiwagi buried his face in his hands.
"..."
"…The opposite of West is East."
"I-I know that!"
Iris blushed, finally turning and bolting toward the North at a blistering pace, too embarrassed to linger.
As she disappeared into the horizon, Kashiwagi let out one last breath and finally turned to begin his own journey.