Pokémon: Master of the Rain Team

”Croagunk, jog with me. We’ll rest every thirty minutes.” Reiji started an easy run along the beach and waved for Croagunk to follow his pace.

Farfetch’d stopped tossing pebbles and just sat on the sand, blankly watching the pair jog.

Ten minutes later, Reiji was still running when a thud sounded behind him. He turned and saw Croagunk had fallen.

He didn’t lift it right away—its skin is poisonous, and he remembered that well. After pulling on gloves, he helped Croagunk lie flat on the sand, then poured some Moomoo Milk into its mouth. Croagunk came to.

He hadn’t expected its body to be this weak—unable to keep a light jog for even ten minutes. They’d have to rebuild its body first, then worry about anything else.

After a short break, he asked, ”Croagunk, you feeling a bit better? We’re going to jog again.”

”Gua… gua.” Croagunk nodded. Its face still looked blank, but it understood why this mattered.

It was starting to get it: this trainer hadn’t thrown it into fights, hadn’t cursed it for collapsing. He was trying to purge the poison in its body, even helped it up and fed it sweet Moomoo Milk. A thinking Pokémon can tell who treats it well—Croagunk could hear the kindness in Reiji’s voice. At the very least, this trainer was better than the last few.

Since the trainer hadn’t given up on curing it, it wouldn’t give up on itself either. It just wasn’t good at showing anything besides a nod. So it simply followed, jogging again without a word.

This time it didn’t even last ten minutes before stopping to pant. But it didn’t push until it collapsed like before.

It didn’t want Reiji to look down on it. All it could do was the work set in front of it. Whether it got sold off again wasn’t its call. Keeping a straight face and finishing the training—that was how it could repay him.

”Rest a bit,” Reiji said after checking his watch. ”We didn’t hit ten minutes, but that’s fine.”

Stamina grows with steady work. Don’t overdo it. You don’t turn into a tank in a day.

He sat on the sand, set out more Moomoo Milk, and this time a Fighting-type pokecube too. He wished he could stuff Croagunk full and have it absorb it all, then hurry up and grow strong enough to control the toxin—but he didn’t want to wreck its digestion.

”Gua.” Croagunk didn’t stand on ceremony. It took the cube, bit a corner off, and chewed slowly.

Reiji drank water to rehydrate, and out of the corner of his eye he caught Farfetch’d glancing over. Caught peeking, Farfetch’d looked away in a hurry.

Reiji flicked a Normal-type energy cube over. It landed in front of Farfetch’d. He didn’t say anything else—just kept watching the sea.

Farfetch’d flinched at the cube from the sky, then, realizing what it was, looked at Reiji and Croagunk getting up to jog again. When he saw Reiji wasn’t paying him any mind, he picked up the cube.

He stared at it in his wing, lost in thought. Reiji noticed as they passed by, but who knew what that bird was thinking—these little minds could be more tangled than a kid’s.

He and Croagunk jogged for over an hour, stopping around two in the afternoon.

He recalled Croagunk with a Heal Ball, then also recalled Farfetch’d. Back at the villa he recalled the other Pokémon too, leaving only Pelipper out.

A quick shower, a change of clothes, and he headed out to his match. It was already past two—about his turn. He slung his pack over his shoulder, hopped onto Pelipper, and flew straight to the Water Club.

Landing nearby, he flashed his entry tag and went to Rest Room 3. Right on the big screen, he was next. Good timing—2:40 p.m.

Shun wasn’t around. Whatever. Round 1 wasn’t much to watch anyway.

The battle on Field 2 (Grass) ended soon. As the screen called him in, he lowered his hood but kept his face mask on and walked down the tunnel.

Plenty of people wore masks; no one would think twice. Only folks who knew him would notice when he stepped out.

He and his opponent took their marks. The ref called out, ”Contestant 3333, contestant 3294—ready?”

Both nodded. The flag dropped. ”Send out your Pokémon!”

Bang—bang.

Reiji sent Rhyhorn. His opponent sent Lombre (Water/Grass).

One look and Reiji knew the guy had scouted him—picking Water/Grass specifically to counter Rhyhorn.

Back in those thrown matches, he’d mostly used Rhyhorn. Poliwhirl hadn’t appeared once.

”Contestant 3333, please wake your Pokémon or it’ll be counted as a forfeit…”

Rhyhorn was… asleep. And cropping the field grass. The ref winced; the stands burst into laughter.

”Is he here to do stand-up?”

”Look—Rhyhorn’s eating grass!”

Reiji ignored it, flicked a pebble, and pinged Rhyhorn on the noggin.

”Snrrk—snrrk.” Rhyhorn woke, licked up a mouthful of grass on instinct, then spotted Reiji yelling at him.

”Rhyhorn! We’re in a match! Focus up!”

”Hurh!” Rhyhorn spat the grass, faced the opponent—a Lombre with a big lilypad hat—and snorted.

”Contestants ready? On my count… 3, 2, 1—begin!”

”Lombre, Rain Dance!”

The opponent opened by setting weather, boosting its own speed and Water moves.

A cool drizzle started before Reiji snapped out of it—he’d been thinking he shouldn’t have had Rhyhorn run earlier. He shouted, ”Rhyhorn, get moving—Horn Attack!”

A chuckle from across the field: ”Pointless. In rain, Lotad’s Swift Swim makes it twice as fast.”

Reiji knew that as well as anyone; he ran rain teams himself.

Base speed 50 for Lotad—Swift Swim in rain doubles it to 100. Rhyhorn’s base speed is 25… but with +6 stages from Rock Polish, that’s a 400% boost: 25 × 400% = 100. Even footing.

”Lombre, dodge—then Water Gun!”

”Rhyhorn, keep accelerating! You can catch it—don’t let up!”

Lotad’s Water Guns landed more than once, weather-boosted and all—but a Rhyhorn already in full sprint didn’t care. Meanwhile, Lombre was… slowing?

”It’s getting slower?”

”No—it’s Rhyhorn getting faster. It used Rock Polish while running!”

By the time the opponent realized, it was too late. Rhyhorn slammed Lombre once, then again for good measure. Lombre fainted.

”Lombre is unable to battle. Winner: contestant 3333’s Rhyhorn!”

”He won…? The sleepy grass-eating Rhyhorn actually won?”

”Pinch me—ow. Not a dream.”

Rhyhorn had shut the laughs up pretty hard. Not dumb—just head-on and stubborn.

Trees couldn’t stand up to that head; why would a Pokémon? With Reckless + Rock Head-style gameplan—buff without recoil—ramming was exactly what it should do.

Reiji recalled Rhyhorn and walked off through the tunnel.

Outside, a long-haired young man in a Water Club uniform leaned at the exit, lighting a cigarette. As Reiji stepped out, he called, ”Hey, kid. Got a minute to talk somewhere quiet?”

”Not interested.” Reiji walked straight past.

The guy didn’t quit. He followed, still smiling. ”Cold, huh?”

Reiji kept walking, saying nothing.

The coach was a little flustered; most trainers either greeted him or got greeted by him. As a senior coach at the Water Club, he wasn’t used to being iced out.

But this was the trainer who’d beaten Taro’s Electabuzz—and the one with that explosive Poliwhirl. Better to invite him politely. Even if he wouldn’t join, building goodwill beat picking a fight.

The reason for the invite was simple: that Poliwhirl’s burst, and the bang-like shock from its punches.

They’d studied the footage to death. Their own Poliwhirl could mimic the Waterfall burst and the ”explosive” fist in sparring.

But the backlash was brutal—after one shot, their Poliwhirl’s hand was done, couldn’t throw a second. A hurt-the-enemy-1000, hurt-yourself-800 move. Not spammable.

How did that guy’s Poliwhirl tank that kind of recoil? That fighting spirit… it was something to admire.

And the trainer hadn’t been lying: everything he’d said about Poliwhirl’s burst checked out. That’s why the Water Club wanted to invite him in.

(End of chapter)

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