Pokémon: Master of the Rain Team

The next day, Reiji woke light. One enemy erased, no more flinching at shadows—the first full night of real sleep in days. He made breakfast early and let the team out; most of them had spent the night in their balls.

Poliwhirl, Krabby, and Rhyhorn were off training today. Butterfree, Pelipper, and Spinarak also got a pass—rest day for everyone. Slowpoke, Magikarp, and Wishiwashi splashed around in the pool; he didn’t hover over them either. Only Farfetch’d kept drilling by choice. It didn’t know why the others were idle. It trained because it wanted to be strong; that was the standard it set for itself.

Skinny arrived by cab right as they were eating. He released his Poliwhirl and Breloom and set out Pokéblocks and snacks.

”Big Brother, you’re having breakfast already?”

”There’s a bowl in the kitchen,” Reiji said. He’d cooked a big pot of noodles; enough remained for one more serving. Skinny shelved the bread and milk he’d brought, slipped into the kitchen, and came back with a steaming bowl—condiments were all there.

”Joy said two full days of rest. If we’re not training, what’s the plan?” The kid asked between mouthfuls.

”If Nurse Joy says rest, we rest. We still study, and we still do morning conditioning,” Reiji said. He had a list anyway—laundry, updating the address on his ID, road work… plenty to fill the day. And if they needed hands-on for Poliwhirl, better to call a pro breeder for massage than let a novice poke at tendons two days after a fight.

While clearing bowls, his hand brushed Krabby’s shell—soft. Another molt. Every molt nudged size up; by now it had shed more times than he could count, body already bigger than that old overgrown claw. He popped the Dive Ball, tossed the charred, shed shell into the trash, and poured Moomoo Milk into a bowl.

”Krk-krk.” Krabby lit up—bonus meal.

”Finish the milk. I’ll get you Calcium later—speed up the hardening,” Reiji said. Skinny wandered over, curious.

”Big Brother, your Krabby looks… off.” If he hadn’t sparred so often with the chubby kid’s Krabby, he might have mistaken this one for a Kingler. ”Right—the claw’s weird, and the body’s way bigger. Easy to mistake it for a Kingler at a glance.”

Reiji hadn’t thought much of it—called it a ’special variant’ and moved on. But put next to other people’s, the silhouette did look like a mini-Kingler: one oversized regrown claw, one smaller, still-regrown claw—and a thicker frame overall.

He fetched a tape and a scale.

From the beginner handbook:

Krabby — 0.4 m / 6.5 kg

Kingler — 1.3 m / 60.0 kg

His Krabby, post-molt height: 0.6 m.

”…Huh.” He double-checked the tape. That was before the new shell hardened—so it would stand a bit taller after. Still far from a full meter; wanting a one-meter Krabby was greed talking.

He hefted it onto the digital scale. Weight: about 9 kg.

Height and mass both above average—good signs. He toyed with the idea of slapping an Everstone on to delay evolution for more molts, then shook it off. Kingler could molt and grow too; no need to overmanage.

He pulled up the panel:

[Krabby]

Type: Water (♂)

Potential: 59.99%

Level: 26.46%

Ability: Hyper Cutter (20.22%) | Hidden Ability: Sheer Force (5.53%)

Moves: Hammer Arm (4.22%), Leer (3.43%), Water Gun (16.35%), Harden (18.14%), Metal Claw (5.34%), Dig (12.54%), Mud Shot (6.24%), Rain Dance (1.04%), Agility (3.15%)

”Almost there—just over a level. Four or five days to Kingler,” he judged. Hyper Cutter had ticked up three percent; Hammer Arm, two; Harden, three; Dig, one from all the trenching; and—”Agility, huh?” Likely learned while harassing that Machoke and from all the night runs. With Agility, the ’high Atk / high Def / high speed heavy’ concept was nearly set. He sent Krabby back to rest.

”Poliwhirl—your turn.” He measured. Weight: 26 kg. Height: 1.15 m. Handbook lists Poliwhirl at 1.0 m / 20.0 kg. Taller, heavier—bulked up well.

Rhyhorn measured out at 1.1 m—thick hide, strong limbs, ten centimeters over standard. Chalk some of it up to Fairchild Island: the wilds there skewed big. The rest was diet; first rule is ”eat enough,” and Pokéblocks make a difference.

When he looked up, Skinny and his Pokémon were gone. He had chores anyway. Two hours of road work, then a shower and laundry. It was only a bit past ten; time to prep for Breeder Keiko’s visit to massage Poliwhirl.

Footsteps outside. Not Keiko—Skinny came back, eyes bright. ”Big Brother, check this Wingull? Took me forever to catch—my first flier.”

Reiji glanced at Pelipper drilling Rain Dance on the wall. Maybe the big bird had influenced him—no Pidgey, aim straight for Wingull.

He took the ball and opened the panel:

[Wingull]

Type: Water/Flying (♂)

Potential: 24%

Level: 5.27%

Ability: Hydration (1.69%)

Moves: …

Twenty-four. Not worth the time.

”This one’s a pass. Release it.”

”Really?” He’d spent two hours screening and catching it; hard to let go.

”Hurts to part with it?” Reiji’s tone stayed level. ”Let it go. This afternoon I’ll help you catch a good one.”

”Okay.” the kid popped the ball. The Wingull squawked curses and bolted. He’d thumped it hard during capture; no love lost.

Reiji watched it vanish and sighed inwardly. He couldn’t mention panels; ”breeder’s eye” would have to cover it. Luckily his word still carried enough weight that Skinny listened.

ID-change paperwork would have to slide to tomorrow. An investment was an investment; the kid had fronted a million on credit—helping him land a proper Wingull was nothing.

Keiko arrived right after the release.

”Mr. Reiji, which Pokémon are we massaging today?”

”Poliwhirl, please,” Reiji said, standing to greet her. Skinny stepped aside and listened.

”Only Poliwhirl?” Keiko asked.

”Just Poliwhirl. It took injuries yesterday—go gentle.”

”Understood.” Keiko set down her bag, called out Meowth, and got to work. Two sessions, an hour each.

Near eleven—time to cook. Reiji pulled Skinny into the kitchen. By the time they finished, Keiko had wrapped the first hour. He called her over to eat and set out her fee: 12,000 Pokédollars.

”Join us for lunch?”

”You even cooked?” Keiko started to demur—she’d brought a bento—but the aromas hit, and her stomach growled traitorously. She flushed and pressed a hand to her belly. ”S-sorry, Mr. Reiji…”

(End of Chapter)

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