Chương 66: Interlude 6: But sometimes that wasn’t enough

Cynthia was hot when she was mad. It wasn't the most appropriate thought, nor the one he probably should have right now. But it was still the first thing that sprang to mind as he watched her. He had seen her angry before. Annoyed, frustrated, irritated, even furious. In fact, he had seen her angry fairly recently. But that had been different. That had been hot, burning anger. This was ice cold.

Some distant part of him remembered that she had looked something like this when she fought Kael, but back then there had been no time to simply watch her. No time to register what Cynthia looked like when fury went quiet. Now he could. It was like a small blizzard had settled over her shoulders. Her grey eyes remained locked on Andre, filled with something uncomfortably close to loathing. Her face was utterly expressionless, and yet Myst could almost hear the wind howling around her.

If she were a little older, even the people in the stands might have been frightened. A little stronger, and Andre's relaxed expression might have cracked. That was the kind of cold intensity Cynthia could bring when she wanted to. As it was, though, the only thing that happened after Roselia completely annihilated Misdreavus was that the spectators straightened in their seats, a few even pulling out notepads. Johanna shook her head beside him, letting out a sigh.

"I'm not sure how none of us even considered the possibility that a Gym Leader might say no. Like, I definitely should have mentioned it, at least. I just figured that… I don't know. They'd agree through sheer inertia? That her being a Shirona would give her a pass?" Myst barely heard her.

Because despite the storm clouds, the murderous glare, and every instinct screaming that this was absolutely the wrong conclusion to draw— Cynthia was just—"Though, maybe I should feel more pity for Andre," Johanna said, glancing at him.

"Like, holy shit. What move even was that?" — really hot. He nodded absently at Johanna's question as Cynthia lifted her chin, waiting for Andre to release his next Pokémon. The way she stood. The way her jacket hugged her frame. And, maybe most problematically, the way some traitorous part of his brain chose that exact moment to remember the park a few days ago. They'd agreed to take things slowly. He was going to honor that promise.

Unfortunately, for some reason, Cynthia looking terrifying was doing absolutely nothing to make that easier. Johanna stared at him for a moment. Then, when he still didn't respond, a wry smile spread across her lips.

"Myst." He didn't answer.

"Myst." He didn't even notice. She nudged him. He let out an absentminded hum. She let out a sigh.

"Whatever," she muttered, before shaking her head and nudging him a little harder. His eyes finally drifted away from Cynthia.

"Huh?"

"Myst, please —work on your subtlety. Or at least do your usual I'm-clearly-studying-the-battle-and-not-my-girlfriend thing. Right now, you look like you want to eat her alive." Myst started to nod, his gaze already fighting to slide back toward Cynthia— Then the words caught up with him, and his head snapped toward Johanna.

"I wasn't—" he began, only to cut himself off as heat rushed to his face at the look she was giving him. Johanna gave him an expression he couldn't quite decipher, before it smoothed back into something more casual.

"It's fine," she said with a small shrug.

"I'm just saying." She shook her head, and then—mercifully—she waved a hand toward the battlefield, where Roselia and Andre's newly released Haunter stood facing each other as the referee raised his hand.

"But seriously," she continued, "what was that? It's not Leaf Storm, but I can't really think of another Grass-type move I know that's similar. So what's your judgment, O almighty Pokémon encyclopedia. Petal Dance? Does Roselia even learn that?" Myst let out a slow breath, forcing the heat from his cheeks to fade before shaking his head.

"You're right, it's not Leaf Storm…" His eyes lingered on Cynthia for a moment before he let out a small sigh.

"But you're wrong about one thing. I don't actually know. Or at least, not because of my knowledge." He glanced at Johanna.

"And honestly, why ask me? Think about it for a second. How many times has Cynthia talked about Roselia's Custom Move?" Johanna blinked.

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. So that's Roselia's Custom Mo—" She stopped mid-sentence. Slowly, she turned back to Roselia.

"…Seriously? That's the Custom Move?" Myst couldn't help the wry smile that tugged at his lips.

"Yeah. Still not perfect, but Cynthia apparently has grand plans to turn it into the Grass-type equivalent of Fire Blast. And, well…" He gestured toward the empty stretch of battlefield where Misdreavus had been floating only moments ago, not bothering to finish the sentence. Johanna followed the gesture, her expression growing steadily stranger as she looked from the empty battlefield back to Andre.

"…You know, I get that this is about his principles. But she's so ridiculously overqualified that he's starting to look a little silly. Like, even I disagreed with her, but watching this... I can't even lie. She kind of has a point. If she were using a newly caught Pokémon, she could at least treat this like a training opportunity. As it is, this is just going to be a stomp." She paused, let her eyes linger on Andre, before she moved them back to Roselia.

"Never mind the raw strength difference between Roselia and Andre's Pokémon—even his technique and type-energy control are miles beyond what you should see in a third-badge Gym. Anyone with a brain could tell that from his Custom Move alone. It's more than just useful. It might be genuinely valuable. Like, in comparison Riolu's Custom Move is impressive, sure, but that's still the sort of thing that stays pretty niche. What Roselia just did?" She shook her head.

"That's the sort of move people are going to notice. If Cynthia actually manages to get rid of the drawback, I can think of more than a few Grass-type specialists who'd kill to teach their Pokémon something like that. A Leaf Storm that somebody on Roselia's level can use…" A helpless smile spread across her face.

"Insane." Myst nodded in agreement and opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the referee thrust his hand down.

"Begin!" Myst's eyes instantly snapped back to the battlefield, his mouth closing. Roselia moved first. Leaves of Grass-type energy bloomed into existence around him—"Harass and run," Andre barked instantly. —and shot toward Haunter. Hundreds of emerald blades crossed the distance in the blink of an eye, curving in from nearly every angle. Magical Leaf. In theory, it was an attack that couldn't miss. It should still have been too slow.

Even before the referee's hand had begun to fall, before Andre had spoken a single word, Haunter had already started to drift lower towards the ground. The instant the battle officially began? It had straight up dove for the safety of its shadow. So Magical Leaf should never have reached. And yet... A split second before Haunter could disappear, two leaves curved up from the ground to intercept it. They sliced through its body, drawing a pained groan before the Ghost-type finally dissolved from sight. Too slow.

Roselia glanced around the battlefield as he kept himself on high alert. But, finding no sign of Haunter, he slowly lowered his bouqueted hand. A second passed. Then another. Then another. Myst's lips thinned as Roselia's body began to glow with a gentle green light, the unmistakable sign of Growth. Haunter still didn't show. And just like that, Myst realized what Andre was doing. Roselia was too strong to fight head-on. If Andre wanted any chance of winning, he first needed to slow him down.

Find time to utilize the tricks he was known for. In other words, he was gambling that Roselia would lower his guard long enough for Haunter to land something like Scary Face. Honestly, it was smart—and not because it was foolproof. No, it was smart because, under normal circumstances, it never would have worked. If Cynthia hadn't been trying to prove a point, she would have been constantly scanning the battlefield, reminding Roselia to stay alert instead of falling back on Growth.

She'd have told him to reshape the battlefield, spread grass across the arena, or keep a constant stream of Magical Leaf in the air so Haunter never had the chance to make a move. But she wasn't speaking. She wasn't scanning the battlefield. She wasn't doing anything at all. So Roselia fell back on instinct, using the opening to strengthen himself. In that sense, maybe smart wasn't giving Andre enough credit. Maybe brilliant was a better word. He had taken Cynthia's self-imposed handicap and turned it against her.

Turned her anger, her need to prove a point, into a weakness he could exploit. Under different circumstances, it might even have taught her a valuable lesson about underestimating an opponent. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Unfortunately for him— Haunter burst from the ground barely three meters in front of Roselia. Its face was already twisting beneath a coating of Normal-type energy, contorting into something horrifying.

These weren't different circumstances. A ribbon of pure Grass-type energy erupted from the ground, lashing across Haunter's face before the move could finish. It wrapped around the Ghost-type and pulsed emerald green. Haunter's twisted features relaxed as Scary Face collapsed before it could fully take hold. Mega Drain.

"Get out." Andre snapped. Haunter snapped backwards at the command, the relaxed features on his face fading as he spat a glob of violet poison down the connection. Acid Spray. The corrosive liquid instantly began eating through the ribbon of Grass-type energy, the emerald tether rapidly weakening. A good response. Myst furrowed his brows. Still too slow. Roselia took a single step forward and lightly clapped his hands. Leaves bloomed around Haunter the instant the Acid Spray ate through the Mega Drain.

In an instant layer after layer folded into place, each leaf sliding over the next until not even a sliver of shadow remained. The sphere tightened, its surface rippling with faint green light as countless blades interlocked into something almost solid, sealing Haunter inside a flawless globe of living Grass-type energy.

"Look for a gap!" Andre's voice rang out. Something struck the inside of the sphere. A dull impact rang through the packed leaves, but the shell didn't so much as shudder. Roselia smiled at his creation. Then, with all the theatrics of a born showman, he turned toward the stands and presented the sphere with a sweeping gesture of one bouqueted hand.

"Roselia!" He grinned.

"Ros!" Most people wouldn't understand his words. They didn't need to. The sphere began to shift. Like clockwork, every leaf turned inward at once. For one suspended second, they held there, all of them aimed toward the center. Roselia bowed low.

"Roselia." Every leaf shot inward. Myst couldn't help but cringe as the sound of energy slamming against energy rang out. He could see the faint bluish glow flickering from within the sphere as Haunter desperately poured Ghost-type energy into breaking free, only for the Grass-type energy to overwhelm it completely. The struggle continued for several long seconds, each pulse of the sphere a sign of Roselia's relentless assault. Then the pulses slowed. Stopped.

The leaves finally peeled away, and as the bottom of the sphere opened, a black shape tumbled to the ground. Andre raised a hand just before Haunter slammed into the ground, a beam of red light snapping out and returning the Ghost-Poison type to its Poké Ball.

"Haunter is unable to battle!" the referee declared.

"Gym Leader Andre, please release your final Pokémon!" Andre didn't say anything this time. He only pursed his lips slightly as Roselia straightened and glanced back at him.

"... Remember when I said he looked a little silly?" Johanna started quietly.

"Well, I take it back. This isn't silly. It's just awkward." Myst let out a small sigh in agreement, his eyes drifting toward Cynthia. Her face was completely expressionless, her chin tilted ever so slightly upward, as though she wanted to loom over Andre—to drive home just how absurd it was that she had been forced to go through this by reveling in crushing a Gym Leader. Or, at least, that was how most people would see it. Myst knew better. She wasn't enjoying this.

For all her anger, she didn't look like she wanted to be here anymore. If anything, she looked like she was going through the motions. Like she had started something, realized halfway through that it felt hollow, and was now too stubborn to stop before seeing it through to the end. Honestly, he even knew why. This just wasn't the kind of fight Cynthia loved. It wasn't a test of technical skill. It wasn't something that forced her to think, or adapt, or reach for more than she already had.

It wasn't a clash that pushed her to her limits, or made her blood sing. It was just sad. An old man and his team standing in her way because the rules said they had to. And Cynthia, angry enough to punish them for it. With a flick of his wrist, Andre released his ace.

"Drifblim, try your hardest." Cynthia automatically looked up at Drifblim, and Myst followed her gaze. It was an impressive Pokémon. A fully evolved Ghost-type, and if Sinnoh had a signature Ghost-type, Drifblim was probably it. Moreover, even newly evolved, it sat right on the boundary of what was appropriate for a third-badge battle. If he was a betting man, he would even say it was probably more than strong enough to earn a place on Andre's fourth-badge team.

Cynthia's eyes lingered on it for a moment before she looked back at Roselia. Her lips parted, her face still expressionless.

"Roselia," she said quietly, the words barely carrying across the arena.

"Show them how you really battle." Andre blinked, his eyes flicking toward her. The referee didn't give him time to dwell on it. He glanced at both Pokémon, then brought his already raised hand down.

"Begin!" Roselia didn't waste a second this time either. As soon as the referee's words had left his lips, his bouqueted hands burst open, releasing a dense cloud of golden spores that flooded the battlefield before anyone could react. Stun Spore. The yellow fog rolled toward the Ghost-Flying type in the blink of an eye, the front of the cloud bulging outward as though reaching for him. Drifblim didn't let it. It shot backward, barely slipping out of reach as the spores stretched after it.

One of its four limbs whipped through the air, unleashing a crescent of pale sky-blue energy that tore through the cloud and scattered most of it before it could close the distance. Gust. Unfortunately, it had never been meant as the real attack. A flash of purple burst from one lingering pocket of fog, and Drifblim let out an annoyed cry as dozens of violet needles slammed into its side. Poison Sting.

"Don't fight it." Andre's voice rang out. Drifblim went limp at the command, cutting off its own response before it could even begin. The next volley of needles didn't meet a solid wall. Instead, they struck a body that had already stopped resisting, pushing Drifblim backward as most of the force bled into its light, drifting frame. It spun with the impact, letting its own weightlessness carry it through the air. And yet, even though the attack had landed, that didn't mean Drifblim had wasted the moment.

Even as it tumbled like an out-of-control balloon, Ghost-type energy had already begun gathering between its arms. Roselia cut off the barrage, recognizing how little the attack had accomplished, and took a step back as he tried to slip back into the fog. Drifblim didn't let the opportunity pass. It twisted with its own momentum, all four limbs snapping inward as the Ghost-type energy between them compressed into a pulsing black sphere, before shooting it forward.

The Shadow Ball crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat. Roselia froze. One bouqueted hand lifted, as if he wanted to strike it down, even as the rest of him seemed ready to retreat. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to do either. The Shadow Ball slammed into his chest before he could even flinch and — —burst straight through. For one stunned second, Myst could almost hear the sharp intakes of breath from the spectators. One of them even rose halfway from their seat.

Then Roselia's figure shimmered and dissolved, the Double Team fading to reveal nothing more than a grass mannequin made out of Magical Leaf. Andre's mouth snapped open again.

"Be—" He never finished. Before Drifblim could even think to move, a tiny purple leaf drifted down and settled against its back. It dissolved without a sound, sinking into the Ghost-Flying type as though it had never existed. Most people didn't even notice it. Drifblim did. The Ghost-Flying type let out a low groan of pain as its Aura flared for a single heartbeat, brilliant sky-blue twined with muted grayish purple— Toxic. —before both colors were swallowed by a sickly, unnatural violet.

"Blow it all away," Andre barked. Drifblim convulsed, but still obeyed. One arm snapped outward, and sky-blue energy exploded from the limb, another Gust sweeping the last of the Stun Spore into the sky. Beneath one of the lingering pockets of fog, just beside the spot where Drifblim had struck the clone, stood Roselia, looking up with the faintest hint of a smile. He didn't attack. He simply stood there, ruined red scarf fluttering behind him, and watched Drifblim struggle to stay in the air.

For a single moment, the battle seemed to grind to a halt. Drifblim stared at Roselia. Cynthia stared at Andre. Neither said anything. Neither side made a move. Myst couldn't help but smile bitterly at the display. It was almost funny. In another world, one where Cynthia had been allowed to challenge Andre's fifth-badge team, that sequence might have decided the battle. It might have been a blood-pumping tactical outplay, the kind of move that let her scrape out a narrow win in a close match.

After all, her original plan had been to lead with Riolu, follow with Queene, and leave Roselia as her anchor. A stronger, different, Drifblim facing Roselia at the end of a hard-fought battle could easily have been the deciding matchup. Toxic might have been the move that secured Cynthia's narrow victory. But not here. Not now. Not when Roselia hadn't even been hit. Not when the only attack that had forced him to exert himself at all had been his own opening blow that knocked out Misdreavus.

Roselia was going to sweep the Gym on his own, without breaking a sweat. Andre's mouth snapped open.

"Sure hit." Drifblim vanished as the world seemed to crack around it, distorted air folding shut where the Ghost-Flying type had been. Roselia instinctively took a step back, his eyes sweeping across the battlefield for the first time. As the seconds stretched on, his body slowly tensed. Grass-type energy began to gather around him, leaves forming one by one in the empty air. Then Cynthia's calm voice cut through the silence.

"Reaction test." Roselia stopped. The uncertainty vanished from his face. The forming leaves flickered once, then dissolved before the move could complete. Instead, he stood perfectly still, eyes narrowing to slits. Silence settled over the battlefield. One second. Two seconds. Then— Drifblim burst back into existence directly behind him, exploding out of distorted air as its entire body slammed toward the much smaller Pokémon. Phantom Force.

It came within an inch of a clean hit— Green leaves materialized across Roselia's right side and detonated outward, shoving him sideways. He didn't travel far. It was enough. Even with Drifblim twisting one limb outward at the last second, it only barely managed to catch one of Roselia's arms as its momentum carried it past him. Roselia winced as the strike clipped him, but even as he stumbled forward, he still managed to thrust the bouqueted hand that didn't get hit towards Drifblim.

A tether of green energy lashed out, striking Drifblim squarely. Mega Drain. Drifblim came to a hard stop and started to turn, but before it could fully recover, a shudder ran through its body as its energy was siphoned away. Its Aura flared once more, dimmer this time. The sickly violet had spread farther, staining more of the sky-blue and grayish purple beneath it, while the parts still untouched were drained away at a pace visible to the naked eye. Roselia didn't waste the opening.

He drew in even more Grass-type energy, power flowing into him from Drifblim and from the ground beneath his feet. Slowly, he raised one bouqueted hand, his body flaring green as Mega Drain and Growth fed into one another, both moves pouring power into a single point. Still, no matter how much stronger Roselia was, Grass-type attacks simply weren't the most effective against a Ghost-Flying type.

Drifblim snapped out of its daze quickly as both of its hands lit up sky-blue at once, before slashing forward in a single motion. One carved through the Mega Drain tether while the other completed its swing toward Roselia. A gigantic blade of wind tore free. It crossed the battlefield in an instant, carving a pale blue line through the air as it screamed toward Roselia. The Grass-Poison type didn't bother trying to meet it head-on.

He continued charging his attack without moving an inch as the leaves attached to his body curled upward around his back, unfolding into enormous butterfly-like wings. The Air Slash closed the final meters in the blink of an eye, moving too fast for Myst to even try to follow. But it never reached Roselia. As the attack closed in, his wings caught the force behind it like a sudden gust beneath them. Roselia was ripped off the ground just as the pale crescent tore through the space where he had been standing.

For one magnificent second, he hung suspended in the air, Grass-type energy radiating from his body as he raised one bouqueted hand toward Drifblim. Behind him, the enormous wings began to vibrate. With a frustrated scream, Drifblim threw all four arms back. Ghost-type energy flooded between them, rapidly condensing into a Shadow Ball. But everyone watching could tell. This was over. Cynthia's voice was almost lost beneath the rising scream of the move.

"Leaf Release." The wings on Roselia's back came apart all at once. Hundreds of razor-edged leaves erupted from him, surging forward in a blinding emerald storm that swallowed the distance between the two Pokémon. Drifblim desperately hurled the half-formed Shadow Ball. The leaves didn't slow for even a heartbeat. They tore straight through the Ghost-type energy, shredding it apart so completely it looked as though Drifblim had thrown nothing at all.

Drifblim vanished the instant the storm reached it as the space it had occupied simply ceased to exist beneath the emerald torrent. There was nothing to see but green. Nothing to hear but the shriek of countless leaves tearing through the air, engulfing the Ghost-Flying type so completely that not even its silhouette remained. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the attack dispersed. Roselia dropped back to the ground, landing lightly despite the faint tremble running through his body.

He looked up, panting, one bouqueted hand still raised toward his opponent. Drifblim hung motionless in the air, staring blankly at Roselia. Myst blinked as he saw it. Wait, it managed to tank tha— The thought died as his gaze met Drifblim's dull eyes. Fainted. As if on cue, Drifblim's body suddenly sagged. Its arms drooped limply beneath it as it began to descend, like a torn balloon, swaying weakly from side to side until it finally settled onto the battlefield with a soft, almost pathetic thud.

For a moment, silence settled over the battlefield. Myst tore his eyes away from Drifblim. He meant to look at the referee, but they stopped midway, settling on Cynthia instead. Her hand was clenched so tightly around Roselia's Poké Ball that her knuckles had turned white.

"... Referee," she bit out a second later, her eyes never leaving him. The referee blinked before hurriedly raising his hand toward Cynthia.

"Drifblim is unable to battle! Roselia is the winner! By a score of three to zero, Cynthia wins the Gym Challenge!" She gave a single, tense nod before striding toward Andre.

"... The badge." She held out her hand. Andre had already returned Drifblim and pocketed its Poké Ball. Without a word, he reached into his pocket again, withdrew a badge, and placed it in her outstretched palm.

"Here," he said simply.

"You've earned it." She nodded. Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and walked toward him. Myst stepped forward to meet her halfway. Without saying anything, he turned and fell into step beside her, placing himself between Cynthia and the spectators as they walked back toward Johanna.

"Good job," he said quietly. Cynthia's jaw tightened.

"Don't. Just... focus on your own match. Please. You're up next." Myst nodded.

"I know. But they still need a few minutes to reset the battlefield and bring out another team for Andre…" He let the sentence trail off. Instead, he gently nudged her hand and flicked his eyes toward her side. Cynthia followed his gaze. Roselia looked up at her. Her expression softened at his slightly worried expression.

"It's not about you, Roselia. You did perfectly. It's just…" She trailed off, as though she couldn't quite find the words. Her lips pursed, parted, then closed again before she let out a quiet sigh.

"I just wish you could've fought the way we'd planned." Roselia shook his head.

"Roselia." It's fine.

"Roselia." I fought well. Then, after a small pause, his mouth curved into the faintest smile.

"Roselia." It was fun. Cynthia stared at him for a few seconds. Then a small smile tugged at her lips as well.

"Good," she said simply, before she started walking again. The moment they reached Johanna, she stepped forward with a wry smile.

"So... is this the part where I tell you congratulations on winning?" Myst relaxed a little when Cynthia's smile grew slightly bigger, the last bit of frost thawing from her expression.

"I feel like I lost, so please don't," she said dryly, her eyes drifting toward the people seated on the tree stumps. Johanna let out a quiet laugh.

"Well, you certainly made an impression. What was it Andre said? That they're basically all journalists?" She glanced toward the spectators herself.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but I think you might end up in the papers again. Because I'm not going to lie, that might have been brutal. But it was also freaking memorable."