Chapter 31 (Ryan POV)
Packing up took forever. Completely Prinplup's fault.
She'd managed that spiral for a fraction of a second last session just enough to form a real whirlpool and now she wouldn't let it go. Every time I reached for her Poké Ball, she was already firing off another jet, skittering along the bank as if I'd said nothing.
"Prinplup, we have to go."
She fired. The swirl almost held almost and then collapsed.
"Pluup." Not defeat, more like frustration: her body remembering the move but hesitating to execute it.
"I know. I saw it, too it was perfect," I crouched beside her. "And there'll be another stream tomorrow, I promise. But it's getting dark, and I don't want to be on this route after nightfall."
She stared at me, then at the water, then shot off two more seconds of jetthe longest yet before freezing, memorizing every aspect of that vanished spiral.
Finally, she waddled over and let me pick her up on her own terms, of course.
Rhyhorn popped free the moment she heard the zipper (I swear she has a radar for that sound) and I returned her, too. She fixed me with that look: I've found something in the grass you'll never see.
"Next time," I said. "Show me, okay?"
Her response was politely skeptical.
Deino stayed out in the open terrain, as always: no crowds, no strangers, just the path beneath our feet and him beside me. Since the training session, he'd seemed lighter like he'd quietly set down some burden in the grass without announcing it.
I hoisted the bag. "Alright. Let's go."
The light was nearly gone when the warning signs arrived. No alarms. No snapping twigs. Just little details stacking up, my mind collecting them before I consciously noticed.
The Bidoof went silent.
Not the slow hush of dusk the brutal, instant quiet that falls when something moves through and everything freezes.
I kept walking at the same pace.
Deino's head snapped up. His ears swiveled, hunting a direction he could sense but not yet locate; his tail went rigid. He stayed at my side, but his attention was already in the dark beyond the treeline.
My hand slid into my pocket, felt Rhyhorn's Ball. Didn't open it.
Grass flickered to my left.
Probably wind.
Probably.
Deino made the faintest, repressed growl. His strides shortened. I felt it his body deciding before his mind caught up.
The last time I'd felt that, we were outside Sandgem, and it hadn't ended well.
I stopped.
Deino stopped with me.
Ahead, nothing but the trail. Behind, the same. Trees pressed in on both sides, long grass unmoving, dark pouring in.
Then both walls of grass parted at once. Deino let out a sound that wasn't a battle cry but pure alarm, and he slammed into me so hard I almost fell. He shook violently, ears flat, eyes far away.
He knew who emerged from that grass.
A chill ran through me that had nothing to do with the night air.
They didn't rush out. They strolled onto the path as though mildly amused. Like we were an inconvenience, maybe a four out of ten.
Marsh stepped forward: a scar from jaw to collarbone, posture bored by this conversation's repetition. Beside him, Tovey was broader, hands loose at his sides. He looked at Deino first, then at me like I was just an obstacle between him and his prize.
They stopped eight meters away and simply watched.
"Been a while since Sandgem," Marsh said, as if we were old market acquaintances.
I said nothing. My hand clenched around Rhyhorn's Ball; Deino trembled so badly he pressed against my leg; Tovey's hand drifted toward his belt.
Then Rhyhorn's Ball popped open on its own. She materialized between us, landing with a rumble neither pleased nor annoyed ancient, primal: This is where you stop. She planted her feet in a battle stance.
Marsh raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Didn't expect that."
Tovey threw his Ball anyway.
Golbat burst out, wings already slicing the air in a tight circle. The scarred Raticate followed half a second later, crouched and low.
Rhyhorn locked onto the Golbat. Then Prinplup's Ball opened too again without my command and she landed between me and the Raticate, expression reading I mean business.
"Rhyhorn, Rock Blast! Keep that Golbat away from Deino!" I ordered.
She fired a slow first shot, then two more in quick succession. The Golbat had to dodge hard and came back furious.
Behind me, Deino was still shaking, lost in months-old fear. I had to stay focused: Prinplup and Rhyhorn needed commands.
"Prinplup, BubbleBeam!"
Her jet struck Raticate squarely, sending it skidding off the path.
Marsh watched with his hands in his pockets. "Cute, rookie trainer," he said.
"Golbat, Confuse Ray."
A swirl of haze hit Rhyhorn, and she shook her head, staggered, missed her next Rock Blast. The noise she made was pure frustration.
Deino answered with a single, sharp sound not an attack but reassurance: I hear you, you're not alone. Rhyhorn's ear flicked; she locked eyes on the Golbat. Three rocks connected; it plunged behind the trees.
She wavered but stayed upright, fury etched across her face for herself, for needing that help and I thought: She'll be okay.
"There he is," Tovey said, voice quiet and satisfied.
Deino heard that. The trembling paused, but it didn't end. And then he stepped out from behind me one step, head held high, ears back, eyes fixed on Tovey. Fear shook him, but he moved.
"Deino, Dragon Rage now!"
He unleashed raw power with no warning. The blast struck Raticate before Tovey could react, sending it flying into the grass. Tovey gaped at empty air.
"Golbat, Wing Attack!" Marsh commanded. "Hit the dragon."
Rhyhorn lunged back into the open, placing herself between Deino and Golbat. The Wing Attack slammed into her left side; her groan was pain pure and true. She hit one knee, caught herself on the other leg, then forced herself upright, legs trembling, still shielding Deino.
Deino made another sound I couldn't decipher; Rhyhorn planted her feet.
I ran the numbers: injured Rhyhorn, stubbornly fighting; Prinplup still dueling a furious Raticate; Deino exposed and trembling; two smugglers with unseen backup. We weren't winning.
"Rhyhorn, Scary Face make it count! Prinplup, Growl! Deino, stay close!"
Rhyhorn fixed the Golbat with that stare that makes Pokémon flinch. Prinplup's Growl made Raticate hesitate. I grabbed the bag and bolted off the path, into the trees. Branches lacerated my arms; roots tripped me. Deino was at my side before three steps; Rhyhorn crashed through behind, favoring her injured side; Prinplup darted between roots, lighter and faster. I didn't look back.
---
Five minutes later, I crouched on the narrow track and surveyed them.
Rhyhorn limped subtly, daring me to mention it. I met her gaze. "You came out before I called, and you took that hit for Deino. You didn't have to." Something flickered in her eyes earned, complicated. She turned her head, scanning ahead.
Prinplup had a cut on her fin. She examined it with clinical precision. I knelt beside her and gently checked the wound. "It's superficial. Healed by morning." She assessed this, tucked her fin behind her, faced forward. "Also, you opened your own Ball today. I still don't know how."
She just looked at me. No explanation forthcoming.
Deino leaned against my leg. I sat on the ground; he clambered partly into my lap, trembling as adrenaline faded and old fear flooded back. I held him until he stilled.
After a long moment, I said, "Hey. Look at me."
He raised his head.
"You were shaking, but you stepped up and fought anyway. That was all you." I kept my hands on him. "I know it won't chase the fear away. But that choice that moment was real."
He made a small, uncertain noise.
"Yeah," I whispered. "Me too."
Rhyhorn's ear flicked toward us. Prinplup glanced once, then faced ahead. We sat longer than necessary. Then I stood, and we moved on.
---
The Pokémon Center lay forty minutes west, its windows glowing orange in the dark. The attendant glanced at our three wrecks, asked no questions, and pointed to a treatment bay. "Start with Rhyhorn."
She marched inside without hesitation.
Deino pressed against my leg in the waiting area. Prinplup sat to my left, fin wrapped, eyes half-closed probably already planning the next Whirlpool.
I called Rowan.
Second ring: "Ryan."
"Route 203. Two smugglers. They knew my name. They wanted Deino."
Silence. Then: "Are you and your Pokémon safe?"
I looked toward the bay where Rhyhorn had disappeared. Prinplup's fin was bandaged; Deino's ears were actually up.
"We're safe. Rhyhorn took a hit."
I said it as truth I needed to believe.
"Good. Give me names and everything you remember."
I told him about Marsh and Tovey, the scar, the simultaneous grass split, the Golbat and Raticate, Tovey's "there he is."
Rowan listened without interrupting. "I'm making calls. League security has jurisdiction here they'll be on Route 203 within the hour."
"They had extra Poke Balls we didn't see."
"Understood. You made the right call leaving."
I looked at Deino, ears forward. "Yeah. I know."
An hour later: "They caught Tovey; he's back on the path. Marsh got away, but Tovey will talk under threat of a tribunal. We'll know more tomorrow. This isn't over but it's further than it was this morning."
Outside, Route 203 remained dark, Marsh still out there, tomorrow a long trip to Jubilife. One badge, three battered Pokémon who faced professionals and stood their ground.
But soon Rhyhorn will step out of that treatment bay, give me the look that says she's fine drop it. Prinplup is already asleep. Deino lies at my feet, ears up, listening.
I leaned back, closed my eyes.
That was enough for tonight.