Training Grounds in the Forest
The forest clearing buzzed with life.
Not from wild Pokémon.
But from the energy of two trainers training side by side.
Gardevoir floated gently above the grass, weaving slow, fluid patterns with her aura.
Gallade faced her — no longer rigid, but moving with a lighter step, his psychic blades dancing, not striking.
On the other side of the clearing, Skylar leaned against a tree, arms crossed, watching.
Next to him, Giselle stood—panting, sweaty, her sleeves rolled up and hair tied messily behind her head.
But there was a fierce light in her eyes.
She was learning.
Fast.
Skylar tossed a berry to her.
Giselle caught it easily.
"Better," he said simply.
She wiped her forehead, smirking. "Still not good enough."
Skylar shrugged. "Perfection's a myth."
"Coming from the guy who just parried every hit with his Lucario without opening his eyes?"
Skylar chuckled. "Instinct, not perfection."
They returned to training.
This time, Skylar set up a simple but devilish exercise:
Dodging branches while balancing a pebble on the back of their hands.
No Pokémon allowed to assist.
Giselle grimaced when she saw it.
"This is barbaric," she muttered.
Skylar grinned.
"Yeah. It's also great for reaction speed."
At first, Giselle stumbled.
Fell.
Got whipped in the face by a branch.
Skylar caught her once when she tripped — steadying her by the elbow with an easy laugh.
She glared at him, cheeks flushed.
"I don't need saving."
He just smiled. "Maybe not. But it's okay to have backup."
By the third run-through—
Giselle was moving with a surprising flow.
Not graceful.
Not yet.
But efficient.
Her instincts were beginning to guide her feet instead of strict memorized steps.
Skylar whistled low. "See? Natural."
Giselle grinned, breathless but proud.
"I'm a fast learner."
"No," he said seriously. "You're a fighter."
She blinked at him, heart skipping slightly at the sincerity.
For once, she didn't hide her smile.
"Thanks."
Afternoon – Break by the River
They sat by a small river, eating sandwiches Skylar had somehow whipped up from their dwindling supplies.
Gardevoir floated above, weaving light patterns for Gallade to slice apart — a playful drill that had both of them smiling.
Darkrai loomed further back, silent but strangely peaceful.
Giselle watched them, thoughtful.
"I used to think battles were just calculations," she murmured.
"Plans. Numbers. Execution."
She looked at Skylar.
"But now…"
He tilted his head, encouraging her.
She smiled faintly.
"Now it feels like dancing."
Skylar nodded.
"Battles are conversations."
"You listen. You speak. You react. You trust."
He tore a piece of bread and tossed it into the river, watching it float.
"And sometimes," he added, "you improvise your heart out."
They laughed together — freely.
No tension.
No pride walls between them.
Just two trainers.
On the same path.
Evening – Setting Up Camp
As they built their simple camp — Skylar hammering stakes, Giselle awkwardly trying to set up a second tent — Giselle found herself humming.
She froze mid-hum.
Then glared suspiciously at Skylar.
"You put something in those sandwiches, didn't you?"
Skylar laughed so hard he nearly dropped the hammer.
"Nope. That's just happiness."
Giselle crossed her arms. "I'm allergic."
Skylar winked. "Get used to it."
That night, as they sat by the fire under a starlit sky, Giselle asked quietly:
"Do you think… someday… I could battle the League too?"
Skylar looked at her seriously.
"You could win the whole thing."
Her eyes widened.
Then she looked down at her hands — the same hands that used to only scribble numbers and battle plans.
Maybe now they could shape something new.
Something better.
She smiled to herself as she drifted off to sleep.
For the first time, not dreaming of trophies.
But of the journey itself.
And the people she would walk it with.