It had been almost two weeks since that strange afternoon at the club, when I had first sat across from Mira and her circle. Strangers then, but less so now.
For me, that was enough reason to keep showing up.
The café hummed with a gentle rhythm around us. Steam hissed from the espresso machine behind the counter, blending with the distant wash of waves. The wooden walls smelled faintly of roasted beans and sea salt, as if the building itself had absorbed both over the years. I shifted in my seat, letting my eyes wander. A pair of surfers argued cheerfully about the tide near the door; a fisherman snored softly over a half-empty cup. Somewhere, the clink of glassware kept time with the music drifting from the speakers something light and jazzy that fit the drifting pace of the seaside town.
I found my gaze returning to Rin. She was perched neatly across from me, her notebook already filling with tidy lines of script, the tip of her pen tapping absently as she organized thoughts only she could see.
"What's your latest project?" I asked, breaking the silence.
Rin looked up, her glasses catching the last rays of gold spilling through the window. "Hmm?"
"In research," I clarified, tracing a bead of condensation down my glass with one finger. "You've always got… something."
A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Right now? Behavioral variances. Tracking how Pokémon adjust their battling instincts depending on environment." She gestured with her pen toward the ocean beyond the glass. "A Wingull here will dive differently than one inland, even if they're the same level. Subtle changes, but measurable."
I leaned forward. "So not just training… instinct, too?"
"Exactly," she said, eyes warming with quiet enthusiasm. "How much is taught versus innate. Whether trainers sharpen what's already there, or shape something new entirely."
I swallowed, then leaned in a little, lowering my voice as though confessing something private. "I've been drafting an article for Professor Oaks' pokedex programme. Just… ideas, really. About aura. You know, the old stories show it was once the foundation of all power, before typings were even formalized."
Rin's pen stilled.
I pressed on, a little faster now, like momentum had carried me over the edge. "What if aura was the root energy? And fire, water, grass, all the other types, what if they evolved out of it, shaped by environment and necessity? A kind of… divergence, like branches splitting from the same trunk. I think it could explain why certain moves overlap across types, or why some Pokémon shift when exposed to new conditions."
For a moment, silence pressed between us, broken only by the hiss of the espresso machine behind the counter.
Then Rin's eyes lit with something sharper than politeness. Interest.
Rin tilted her head, eyes narrowing just slightly behind her glasses. "That's… bold. But what are you grounding it in? Speculation's cheap, dude. Do you have evidence? Old texts? Ruins? Anything besides theory?"
Her tone wasn't harsh, but it pressed, urging me to stand my ground.
I shifted in my seat, searching for the words. "Some, yeah. I mean, there are the records of Sir Aaron of Rota. He wielded aura like it was tangible, a force as real as flame or stone. And it wasn't just his accounts of his Lucario, there are others too, that describe aura not as a technique, but a kind of primal energy. Before typings were codified, maybe that's how people understood it."
Rin tapped her pen against the notebook, thoughtful. "Rota's legends are colorful. But legends don't always equal data."
"I know," I admitted quickly, hands curling around my cup. The warmth seeped into my palms, steadied me. "It's not proof. Just… a seed of an idea. Something I could polish into an article. If I frame it well, maybe it's enough to get noticed for the Pokédex program."n
Rin's lips curved faintly, more intrigue than dismissal. "So this is your application essay in disguise?"
"Maybe." I allowed a small grin. "Better than just writing about type matchups."
She chuckled at that, and the sound eased the knot of nerves in my chest. For the first time, it felt less like I was fumbling in the dark and more like I was sketching the outline of something real.
We lingered outside the café after paying, the breeze carrying the scent of salt and fried dough from a stall down the boardwalk. Rin adjusted her bag on her shoulder, notebook tucked inside, but she didn't start walking. Instead, she glanced at me, eyes flicking toward the sea.
"You know…" she began, almost hesitant. "You've been letting me jot down notes for weeks now, but I've never actually seen what you've been training them on. Not properly."
I blinked. "You mean Caesar and Livia?"
"Yes," she said firmly, though her cheeks colored faintly. "I'd like to see their progress if you don't mind. For the research."
I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. "You sound like a professor asking for a field demo."
Her lips twitched, just shy of a smile. "Maybe I am."
We lingered outside the café after paying, the breeze carrying the scent of salt and fried dough from a stall down the boardwalk. Rin adjusted her bag on her shoulder, notebook tucked under her arm, but she didn't start walking. Instead, she glanced at me, eyes flicking toward the sea.
I looked toward the path leading away from town, out to where the cliffs and training grounds lay. "Alright. There's a spot I use outside the city remote, quiet. You'll get a better view there."
The walk took us past the last row of houses and down the dirt road fringed with swaying reeds. Soon, the faint crash of waves grew louder, the horizon stretching wide and open. My usual training area opened up before us: a rocky plateau overlooking the sea, dotted with weathered boulders and wind-smoothed ridges. Tide pools glittered below, and the air smelled of salt and stone.
"This is it," I said.
Rin looked around with bright, careful eyes, her notebook already out. She unhooked a ball from her satchel and tossed it with a small, almost shy smile. "Then Abra and I will watch."
Light flared, and an Abra appeared at her side, floating lazily a few inches off the ground, its eyes half-closed as if perpetually dozing. It gave a small chirrup of greeting before curling its tail around itself.
I blinked, then grinned. "You never told me you had an abra."
"Never got the chance" Rin admitted, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
"Guess that makes two of us," I muttered, unclipping a ball from my belt. I raised it, turning to Rin with a half-grin. "Alright then, Professor. You wanted a demo? Watch closely."
With a flash, Livia burst into the air, her wings cutting the breeze with precision. She cried sharply, proud and clear, before catching the salt wind in a long, graceful glide.
"Livia Rin want to see what you can do, start with the stalls," I called.
Livia dove, then at my signal, snapped her wings out arresting her momentum so sharply that she seemed to freeze in the air. Dust swirled beneath her as she hung suspended for a breath, then twisted into a burst of speed in another direction, her body blurring against the glow of the setting sun.
"She uses Gust not for power, but balance," I explained, my eyes following every move. "A burst here, a stall there. Let's her change direction midair, instead of getting locked into one path."
The breeze caught her feathers, the sound of wingbeats crisp and deliberate. With each stall, she seemed to carve patterns in the air itself, trailing wisps of wind that curled like ribbons around her.
Rin scribbled furiously, her gaze darting between the Pidgey and the page. Abra gave a quiet hum, tail twitching in approval. "That's… brilliant," Rin murmured. "Almost like aerial footwork."
"Exactly," I said, pride flickering in my chest. "She's faster than most expect and unpredictable. You can't trap what doesn't stay in one lane."
We watched Livia push higher into the sky, angling her wings for a sharp dive. I gave a quick hand signal, and she blurred with Quick Attack, skimming so close to the stone that her wingtip clipped a loose pebble into the air before she snapped upward again, disappearing into the setting light.
Rin's pen faltered for once, her eyes wide. "That was amazing"
The compliment caught me off-guard, heat rushing to my ears. I coughed, looking away toward the sea. "She worked hard for it. "
For a while longer, we continued the crash of the tide below, Livia's fierce cries above, Rin's quiet notes filling the space between. Abra dozed and stirred, one eye opening now and then as if to check his trainer was still there.
The sun dipped lower, painting the waves in molten gold. Shadows stretched across the rocks, and the chatter of distant gulls faded into the rising hum of cicadas.
Rin tucked her pencil behind her ear, looking up at the sky where Livia glided lazily now, wings glowing faintly in the twilight. "Thank you, Arata. I think… I understand more than just her moves now."
I let Livia circle back down, her wingbeats stirring the dust into soft spirals as she landed lightly on a rock near my shoulder. She gave a proud little shake of her feathers, standing taller than most Pidgey her age. A little broader in the chest, wings edged with strength earned from training in winds harsher than most birds her size could handle.
Rin noticed, of course her eyes always caught the details. "She's… larger than I expected," she murmured, scribbling as she adjusted her glasses. "Stronger, more defined. Almost like her growth curve is accelerated."
I glanced at Livia, who tilted her head smugly. I gave a small shrug. "She just trains hard. Doesn't like being ordinary."
I unclipped another ball. "Alright. Your turn, Caesar."
The flash of red light faded into the stout, tusked form of my Axew. Caesar gave a short cry, pawing the ground with clawed feet. His scales caught the last of the sunset, reflecting a sheen of greenish silver. He was heavier, too not the awkward hatchling build most expected, but compact, powerful. His muscles carried definition earned through ceaseless drills and sparring.
Rin's pen faltered again. "He a Dragon isnt he ?…He's big, too."
I crouched beside my partner, giving his snout a quick rub. "We've been working on something new. It's not perfect yet, but…" I stepped back and gave the signal. "Show her."
Caesar lowered himself, eyes narrowing in concentration. His small claws began to glow, a pale, translucent shimmer crawling across them like liquid light. It flickered at first, unstable, but with a growl, he steadied it green-blue energy hardening into jagged, spectral claws twice the length of his real ones.
Rin gasped, stepping forward. "Dragon Claw? At a first stage?"
Caesar slashed at the empty air, the force of the strike cracking through the quiet. Pebbles scattered, the faint shockwave stirring Rin's notes. He panted after two swings, the glow fading, but his tusked grin showed how proud he was just to hold it for that long.
I grinned too, the pride swelling in my chest. "It's rough, but he's getting there. We train a little each day. One day he'll hold it without losing focus."
Rin looked between us, awe clear in her face. "They're both… exceptional for their current stage."
Caesar gave a short huff, then glanced at Livia, who fluttered her wings like a dare. For a moment, the two sparred in the air Livia darting forward with a feinting Quick Attack, Caesar swiping with a half-flickering claw. Dust and sparks lit up around them, painting the rocky plateau with flashes of wild, unrefined power.
It was beautiful, chaotic, alive.
And then I froze.
Not at them but at the horizon.
I blinked, straightening slowly. Beyond Rin's shoulder, where the sea should have been a flat expanse of twilight silver, the water was wrong. The line of the ocean bulged. Rose. Stretched upward, impossibly tall, a shape of moving black that grew and grew until it blotted out the fading sun.
It wasn't just water. Even from this distance, my sharp eyes caught the flicker of shapes inside it fins, tails, scales glinting like glass shards in the dying light. Dozens. Hundreds. A wall of wild Pokémon, carried by the heaving tide itself.
The air shifted, heavy and charged. The distant crash of waves no longer sounded rhythmic it sounded hungry.
My heart slammed against my ribs. "…Rin," I whispered, my voice suddenly hoarse.
She followed my gaze, her pen slipping from her fingers. The horizon was coming alive.
At first it was just us who noticed. But then a man with a fishing pole froze mid-step, staring. A pair of teenagers laughing near the rocks stopped cold, their voices dying. One by one, heads turned. The evening murmur along the coast stuttered into silence.
"What… what is that?" Rin breathed. Her hand fumbled at her side, pulling free her sleek silver PokéNav. The screen glowed pale in the deepening dusk, faint lines of text and data scrolling. She pressed rapidly, bringing up news forums, chat rooms, wild Pokémon encounter readings. The device stuttered with warnings irregular seismic activity offshore, sudden surges of water displacement, high-density Pokémon clustering.
Her eyes widened. "Arata, there's a - "
The sound cut her off.
A low, mournful bwooooh rolled out from the town behind us, followed by another, and another horns. Evacuation horns. Their deep-throated call rattled in my chest, so loud it seemed to shake the sand. Lights began flickering on across the streets, alarms flashing red.
A woman screamed. Then another voice: "Tsunami !!!"
The world fractured into panic.
More horns blared up and down the coast, blending with other panicked noises .
I barely heard any of it. My eyes locked on the wall of water that wasn't slowing no, it was rising higher, frothing and writhing with living bodies.
I swallowed hard. "That's more than ten feet…" My throat went dry. "its bigger. Pokémon are... Surf."
Even as I spoke, I saw them a Starmie spinning at the crest, hurling arcs of water forward; Tentacruel pulsing like shadows in the swel, a Gyarados roaring inside the churning heart, its maw glowing faint with power.
"Arata!" Rin snapped, terror cracking her usual calm. Abra writhed in her arms, its tail whipping in agitation, sensing the coming collapse.
I jolted to life. "Caesar, back return!" My Poké Ball flared, and the Axew vanished into red light before the first spray hit us. I turned to Rin, grabbing her arm, my voice sharp with urgency. "Run... forest, now! It'll break here first!"
We bolted, feet hammering against the rocks, the path winding toward the treeline beyond. Rin clutched Abra close as her PokéNav shrieked more error tones. Behind us, the roar grew deafening, the air thick with mist and salt.
I risked one look back.
The wave was already collapsing, folding inward with the weight of mountains. The shadows inside it screamed with wild voices anguished, furious, panicked. Water slammed against stone, geysers exploding upward as the first surge hit the shore.
And then the main body fell.
"Go!" I shouted, shoving Rin forward.
The ground shook. The sky went dark. The ocean swallowed everything.
The impact hit me like a giant's fist. A wall of icy weight smashed into my chest, flinging me off my feet. My fingers ripped away from Rin's sleeve as the world tumbled into foam and thunder. Salt scorched my throat as I choked, my ears filled with the roar of a hundred Pokémon crying at once.
Through the chaos, I saw a single flash Rin's terrified eyes vanishing into spray, her glasses slipping away, Abra's form glowing faint as if struggling to teleport.
And above it all, a streak of pale brown wings. Livia, shrieking against the gale, Dived down desperately as the tide devoured the land.
My hand stretched upward, lungs burning. Then the wave dragged me under.