Pokemon: Tactician’s Triumph

It hadn't even been a week yet since Caelan had landed his job at the battle club, yet he was already 1500 Pokédollars down. Though, in his opinion, it was money well spent.

He glanced around his small room in the Pokémon Center—a cheap, no-frills room that cost him only ₽15 thanks to the hefty league discount. Trainers like him, who participated in the league season, got special rates on lodging, as the league assumed they would be constantly on the move.

'Joke's on them,' Caelan mused, 'I can barely afford to stay in one place, let alone travel.'

After settling in, he'd spent ₽285 on a few essentials to pad out his burgeoning wardrobe. It wasn't much—bright colors to contrast his dark skin, most of it plain and functional. The reflection of his appearance caught his eye for a moment, his gaze lingering on the scars that criss-crossed his face. He looked every bit the worn-down kid he felt like, though perhaps a little sharper now that he had a proper outfit to wear.

'Bright colors are known for lifting one's spirits, right?'  he thought with a wry smile. 'If only they were as comforting as they are glaring.'

The majority of his money, though, went to a certain training tool he bought to improve Rattata's upcoming physical training. Originally priced at 1500 Pokedollars, he'd snagged it at a 20% discount—an impulse buy he couldn't resist. The tool was something he could see being used long term, perhaps as a rite of passage for new members of the team. Well, for the physical attackers, at least.

'Efficient training relies on two major components: the right training and the right diet.' This item would help with the former.

It was the Macho Brace–a staple item of any self-respecting EV trainer.

In the games, it would double the amount of a certain hidden stat Pokémon gained with every battle. With this hidden stat growing at double the rate, the Pokémon being trained would reach their full potential far quicker than normal.

In reality, it was an adjustable harness that strapped onto a Pokémon and caused every movement to be heavy. He had no idea how the thing could increase and decrease in weight at will, but he wasn't going to question the magic technology of the world.

Essentially, it was adjustable weighted clothing for Pokemon. Something he was going to abuse shamelessly.

Despite how expensive it was, he really didn't regret buying it. It was one half of the puzzle when it came to training Pokémon. Added weight during training was a perfect way to enhance their physical abilities when the usual regimen became too easy.

No, it was the other half that he had a problem with; A Pokémon's diet.

From what he'd gathered on the BattleNET, Pokémon diets could be obscenely expensive, especially for those who trained hard and even used supplements. Some trainers mentioned shelling out thousands of Pokédollars just for one week of food for their teams. It made sense, he supposed, when he thought about how rare it was for a trainer to own a full team of six in the games. 

'And that's not even the limit of how expensive taking care of a Pokémon is,' he thought with a sigh. 'Special attacking Pokémon require more esoteric artifacts and weird items to enhance their power on top of their diets...'

That reminded him of what Nurse Joy had commented about Rattata and her recovery.

After he'd finally brought her to the Pokémon Center, she mentioned that Rattata's body was showing signs of entering a growth period. This was a brief resting time for Pokémon after a harsh battle where their body adjusted to the addition of Physical and Spiritual Energies. Though she would likely remain at Middle Class, it was expected for her to grow to perhaps Class Level 0.5 or 0.6 by the end.

But the interesting part was what Nurse Joy had said about Rattata's mood. As his best and only friend, he'd immediately noticed her shift in demeanor after the battle. She'd been more reserved, almost disheartened. Nothing seemed to cheer her up—she didn't appear sad, just... conflicted.

Nurse Joy had pointed out that in her experience, Pokémon with a competitive streak often went through a brooding phase after a tough battle. According to her, Pokémon that overcame these feelings would come out stronger for it. 

'Maybe Pokémon feel emotions more intensely after having a battle,' Caelan theorized. 'That would explain why her spiritual energy's growth is affecting her this badly. Like how muscles have to heal, so too does her spirit.'

For now, he pushed those thoughts aside. He glanced at the clock, realizing it was time to go. They had work on Monday, and he needed to figure out if the Macho Brace was something they could effectively use.

With a final glance around his modest room, Caelan gathered his things and headed out.

The park was alive with activity—families picnicked under shady trees, children darted around with their family's pet Pokémon, and the sound of laughter and playful shouts filled the air. A stark contrast to this, Caelan and Rattata found a space away from the crowds to focus in serene quiet.

The training spot they usually frequented was too far from the Pokémon Center and the Battle Club. They would have to make do with the public park for now.

Crouched down, Caelan carefully secured the Macho Brace onto Rattata's form, the harness tightening around each of her limbs. The cumbersome, weighted bands looked almost comical on her if he was honest.

"It's not too tight, is it?" Rattata shook her head. "Okay, good."

Dusting off his pants, Caelan stood and urged her on. As he did so, Rattata walked awkwardly in place for a moment, getting used to the added weight. It was on the lowest setting possible, something a Pokémon of her size could easily handle.

He watched intently as she took a few cautious steps. She moved with a slight drag, her small legs barely struggling to adjust to the weight of the Macho Brace. The bands seemed sag slightly, their weight clearly not affecting her as much as he'd hoped.

Rattata trotted in a small circle, her usual nimbleness dampened by the added burden. Without prompting, she attempted to run, but the added weight barely slowed her down. Her movements were still too fluid, too controlled.

Caelan's brow furrowed. "This isn't quite right," he muttered, observing the ease with which Rattata managed the weight. He knelt beside her and carefully adjusted the settings on the Macho Brace, increasing the weight incrementally.

Before, it was at exactly her body weight. Eight pounds. Now, though, it was 5x her body weight. A normal rodent her size would've likely collapsed, but Pokémon were simply superior.

Rattata watched him adjust the brace with curious eyes, her whiskers twitching as the weight bands were tightened further. She gave a tentative stretch, testing the new resistance.

"Let's test this out. Start with basic sprints. Use Quick Attack to see how you handle the weight," Caelan instructed calmly, standing up again and taking a few steps back to give her space.

Rattata hesitated for a moment, her muscles twitching as she adjusted to the foreign weight on her body. She glanced up at Caelan, her usually sharp eyes betraying a flicker of doubt. The Macho Brace wasn't just uncomfortable—it was heavy, and it slowed her down considerably.

"Go," Caelan ordered, his tone firm but not harsh.

With a soft grunt, Rattata shot forward, or at least she tried to. Her usual burst of speed was reduced to an awkward lurch. Her legs, weighed down by the brace, strained against the ground, and she barely managed to cover half the distance she normally would. She shot a quick glare back at Caelan, as if to say, 'See? It isn't going to work!'

Caelan didn't flinch under her gaze. He merely nodded and said, "Again."

Rattata growled softly under her breath and tried again. This time, she managed to get a little more momentum, but the weight of the brace kept dragging her down. She stumbled, her body fighting against the resistance, and came to an ungraceful halt.

It was perfect. She clearly wasn't moving the way she wanted to, but it wasn't hindering enough that she would hurt herself.

He could see the frustration mounting in her. That was good—he felt it too, a reminder that growth wasn't always fun nor immediate. Coming up with and teaching her the Afterimage Technique was an enjoyable exercise; one he knew she treated more like a game than actual training. That was fine, training didn't need to be brutal and serious all the time, but there was a time for the grind and that time was now.

As much as he believed that it was harder than he'd anticipated to watch her struggle and falter. Still, he remained stoic. He couldn't afford to let doubt seep into his voice.

"Again," he repeated, his tone unwavering.

Rattata huffed but obeyed. He could tell her muscles were aching, the brace becoming harder and harder for her to withstand. Sprint after sprint, her paws slammed into the ground, each movement growing more labored as exhaustion crept in. The brace pulled at her muscles, forcing her to engage every part of her body just to stay upright. By the fifth attempt, her breathing was heavy, and her fur was matted with sweat.

But seeing her falter, he couldn't help but falter himself—'Am I pushing her too hard too soon?'

He shook the thought away. 'No, this is necessary. Progress doesn't come without struggle.'

"You're doing well," Caelan said quietly. He knelt down beside her as she panted, her small body heaving with the effort. "It's hard now, but it'll get easier. You'll get stronger."

Rattata glanced at him, her ears twitching in acknowledgement. But there was still frustration in her gaze, a simmering resentment towards the brace that had shackled her speed. She pawed at it for a moment, then shook her head, as if trying to rid herself of the weight. It didn't budge.

Caelan placed a hand on her head. "One more. This time, try the Afterimage Technique."

She blinked up at him in surprise. He knew exactly what she was thinking. If simply sprinting was that difficult, how could he possibly think it was appropriate for her to execute the Afterimage Technique?

Caelan remained resolute. He wasn't asking for perfection—he needed her to learn the lesson physically, not just through words.

Rattata narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath. She readied herself, her muscles coiling with tension. Then, in a blur of motion, she darted forward. The brace resisted her every step, pulling her down with each movement, but she didn't stop. She pivoted sharply, using Quick Attack to try and build up momentum, but it was sloppy. Her body was too slow, too weighed down to maintain the fluidity she was used to.

She barely managed to complete the triangle pattern before skidding to a halt, panting hard, her legs trembling under the strain.

It wasn't perfect, not even close. But Caelan saw the determination in her eyes.

'You're capable of far more than you think.' He thought, hoping the lesson came across.

"That's enough for today," he said quietly, standing up and walking over to unstrap the brace from her legs. As soon as the weight was gone, Rattata collapsed onto the ground, utterly exhausted.

Caelan sat beside her, his eyes scanning the park. There was barely anyone around them, the tranquil setting a stark contrast to the intensity of their training. As the sunlight filtered through the trees, Caelan closed his eyes in meditation, once again trying to capture the intrinsic connection they once had.

While he meditated, she would rest. And while she trained, he would supervise. An endless grind, an unforgiving cycle of progress and failure. But that was the nature of training, wasn't it?

Rattata let out a soft, exhausted squeak. Despite the obvious fatigue, there was no resentment in her gaze now. 

Just tired acceptance.