The campfire crackled softly, sending sparks up into the dark canopy.
Grant sat on a fallen log with Oshawatt curled against his chest and Sewaddle tucked inside his jacket. The forest around them hummed with insects and distant river water, but his thoughts were louder.
Too loud.
He kept seeing it.
Darmanitan's fist.
Oshawatt hitting the ground.
Sewaddle lifted helplessly into the air.
His jaw tightened.
Nyra sat across from him, stirring a pot of stew. Pignite lay nearby, flames dimmed to a gentle glow.
"Eat," she said without looking up.
Grant shook his head. "Not hungry."
She set the spoon down and met his eyes. "That's a lie."
He looked away.
The silence stretched.
Oshawatt shifted, lifting its head. "Osha…"
Grant stroked behind its ears. "I messed up."
Nyra exhaled slowly and moved to sit beside him. "You lost a battle. That's not messing up."
"I rushed. I challenged someone I wasn't ready for. I put you in danger." He looked down at Oshawatt's bandages. "I put you in danger."
Oshawatt frowned and bumped his head into Grant's chest.
Sewaddle wriggled out of the jacket and climbed onto Grant's shoulder, patting his cheek with a tiny leg.
Grant swallowed.
Nyra rested her elbows on her knees. "You know what Skye told us? That the wind tests timing and trust."
He nodded.
"You trusted your partner. You just trusted the wrong moment."
Grant let out a shaky breath. "Angelica said I should quit."
Nyra scoffed. "Angelica says a lot of garbage."
"She wasn't wrong about one thing," he said quietly. "I'm not ready for the League."
Nyra turned toward him fully. "No one is. That's the point."
The fire popped.
Grant stared into the flames. "I thought the badge meant something. I thought it proved I belonged out here."
Nyra's voice softened. "The badge proves you can win. It doesn't promise you always will."
He rubbed his eyes. "What if I get them hurt again?"
She placed a hand on his wrist. "Then we get stronger. Smarter. Together."
Oshawatt nodded vigorously.
"Osha!"
Grant managed a small smile.
A Plan in the Ashes
They ate in silence for a while. The stew was warm and grounding.
Grant finally spoke. "We need structure. Real training cycles."
Nyra raised a brow. "You're serious."
"I have to be."
He pulled out his notebook and flipped to a blank page.
"Morning—endurance. Running with Pokémon. Hill sprints. River resistance."
Nyra nodded. "Afternoons—technique."
"Control drills," Grant said. "Short bursts. Precision. No overexertion."
"And evenings," Nyra added, "recovery and strategy."
Grant looked at her. "You're in?"
She smirked. "I'm not letting my rival quit."
A small warmth settled in his chest.
They woke before the sun.
Mist hung low over the river. The grass was cold with dew.
Grant tied his jacket around his waist and stretched. Nyra laced her boots tighter.
"Two laps along the river," Grant said. "Pokémon run with us."
Oshawatt hopped down, shell strapped tight.
Sewaddle clung to Grant's hood.
Pignite snorted, ready.
They ran.
The first lap burned their lungs. The second made their legs shake.
Grant stumbled on a slick rock and caught himself on a tree.
Nyra slowed. "Breathe. Don't rush."
He nodded and pushed on.
At the hill, they stopped.
"Intervals," Nyra said. "Sprint up. Walk down. Five times."
Grant groaned. "You enjoy this."
She grinned. "Absolutely."
They climbed.
By the fifth sprint, Grant's vision blurred.
Oshawatt lagged, panting.
Grant knelt. "We stop here."
Oshawatt tried to stand again.
"Hey," Grant said gently. "You did enough."
Oshawatt hesitated—then nodded and sat.
Sewaddle crawled down and wrapped a silk thread around Oshawatt's arm like a ribbon.
Nyra smiled. "Good call."
Control Before Power
They moved to the shallow bend of the river.
Grant stacked flat stones in a line.
"Water Gun," he said. "One stone at a time. No spray."
Oshawatt took position.
The first shot splashed wide.
Grant shook his head. "Again. Slower."
Oshawatt adjusted.
The second shot cracked the stone.
Grant raised a fist. "Good. Next."
They went down the line. When Oshawatt rushed, Grant stopped him.
"Reset. Focus Energy first."
Oshawatt breathed, centered.
The next shot was clean.
Nyra watched, arms crossed. "He listens to you."
Grant smiled faintly. "He trusts me."
They switched to movement.
Grant laid a rope path between trees. "Aqua Jet through the course. No collisions."
Oshawatt clipped the first turn and slid.
"Pause," Grant said. "Visualize it."
Oshawatt closed its eyes, then nodded.
The second run was smoother.
By the fourth, he flowed through like water.
Nyra clapped. "That's it."
Sewaddle's Web
Grant set up poles and branches.
"Web corridor," he said. "We'll build it together."
Sewaddle climbed up and spun silk, anchoring threads with neat knots.
"Razor Leaf—trim the ends," Grant instructed.
Two leaves sliced cleanly.
They tested the corridor by tossing pinecones. The web caught them gently.
"Now," Grant said, "String Shot, moving target."
Nyra rolled a berry along the ground.
Sewaddle fired and snagged it.
Grant laughed. "Perfect."
They added a vertical wall.
"Climb and weave," he said.
Sewaddle hesitated.
Grant crouched. "You're safe. I've got you."
Sewaddle went.
It slipped once.
Grant caught it.
"Again," he said softly.
The second climb was steady.
At the top, Sewaddle chirped triumphantly.
Nyra nodded. "Confidence training works."
Nyra wiped sweat from her brow and tightened the straps on her gloves.
"Alright, Pignite. Your turn."
Pignite rolled its shoulders, flames flaring brighter in response.
Nyra set up three wooden posts in a triangle. "Speed and control. Flame Charge around the perimeter, then Ember on the center post. No overburn."
Pignite nodded, paws digging into the dirt.
"Go!"
It burst forward, fire trailing behind it like a comet. Nyra tracked every step, eyes sharp.
"Wider turn! Don't cut the corner—momentum first!"
Pignite adjusted, skidding slightly but keeping its balance. It looped the final post and launched an Ember straight into the center log, leaving a glowing scorch mark.
Nyra crossed her arms, satisfied. "Better. Again."
They ran the drill three more times. By the last round, Pignite's breathing was heavy, flames flickering unevenly.
Nyra raised a hand. "That's enough. Endurance tomorrow."
She knelt and pressed her forehead against Pignite's. "You're getting stronger. So am I. We'll reach the top together."
Pignite let out a proud snort and bumped her shoulder.
Nyra snapped her fingers. "Venipede, you're up too."
Venipede popped out of its Poké Ball and immediately started buzzing in tight circles around her boots.
"Easy, speedster," Nyra laughed. "Today's about control."
She lined up a row of smooth river stones. "Poison Sting on each stone. One hit per target. No rushing."
Venipede crouched low, antennae twitching.
"Go!"
It zipped forward, firing thin purple needles in rapid succession. The first two stones shattered cleanly. The third shot went wide.
Nyra clicked her tongue. "Again. Focus."
Venipede skidded to a stop, turned, and steadied itself. This time the sting hit dead center, cracking the stone in half.
Grant nodded. "That thing's fast."
Nyra smirked. "Too fast sometimes."
She pointed toward a fallen log. "Agility drill. Up, over, under, then back."
Venipede bolted, climbing the bark, flipping over the log, darting beneath, and returning in a blur. It wobbled at the end, legs shaking.
Nyra knelt. "Good work. You're learning restraint."
Venipede chirred proudly and curled beside Pignite's leg.
Nyra stretched her arms. "Two Pokémon. Two different styles. Same goal."
Grant smiled. "Elite training already."
Nyra shot him a grin. "We're just getting started."
By midday, the sun burned away the mist.
They rested in the shade.
Grant stared at the river. "I keep thinking—what if I freeze next time?"
Nyra sat beside him. "Then I'll kick you into motion."
He huffed a laugh.
"I'm serious," he said. "I don't want to be the reason they get hurt."
She leaned back on her hands. "You're the reason they get stronger."
He glanced at her. "You really believe that?"
"Yeah," she said. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."
The words settled.
Oshawatt climbed into his lap.
Sewaddle curled into his hood.
Grant rested his chin on Oshawatt's head. "We keep going."
Nyra's voice was gentle. "We always do."
They set up a light spar.
"Contact only," Nyra said. "No finishers."
Oshawatt faced Pignite.
Sewaddle anchored a web net behind Oshawatt for recovery.
"Ready?" Nyra asked.
Grant nodded.
They exchanged quick blows—Ember and Water Gun, blocked and redirected.
Grant called for Shell angles.
Nyra adjusted Pignite's footwork.
They stopped when breathing grew heavy.
"Good control," Nyra said.
Grant knelt. "How do you feel?"
"Osha!" Oshawatt said, proud.
Sewaddle skittered and tightened a loose thread.
Grant grinned. "Teamwork."
As the light softened, they stretched and cooled down.
Grant wrote notes: mistakes, wins, ideas.
Nyra peeked over his shoulder. "You're serious about this."
"I have to be," he said. "I don't want another bridge."
She bumped his shoulder. "We won't let it happen."
They packed up.
At the water's edge, Grant washed his hands. His reflection looked older than yesterday.
Nyra stood beside him. "You're not alone."
He met her eyes. "I know. That's what keeps me standing."
She smiled.
Oshawatt splashed in the shallows.
Sewaddle made a tiny hammock between reeds.
Pignite warmed a stone for them to sit on.
The river carried their worries downstream.
Grant exhaled. "Tomorrow—footwork and evasion."
Nyra nodded. "And reaction drills."
He closed his notebook. "We're rebuilding."
She held out her fist.
He bumped it.
The fireflies came out.
And for the first time since the bridge, Grant felt steady again—
not because he was strong,
but because he wasn't standing alone.