The morning of the gym challenge dawned bright and clear.

  Jason woke early, nervous energy making sleep impossible past sunrise. He went through his routine mechanically—shower, breakfast, checking his Pokémon—while his mind ran through battle scenarios for the hundredth time.

  Sprigatito seemed to sense his tension. She stayed close, her usual independence set aside in favor of reassuring proximity. When he sat on the bed to review his notes one final time, she hopped up beside him and pressed her head against his arm.

  "I'm okay," he told her. "Just nervous."

  She made a sound that clearly meant I know, but I'm here anyway.

  Ralts sent a pulse of warmth through their bond—confidence that wasn't quite hers, but that she was trying to project for his benefit. She believed in him, even if she was scared herself.

  "Alright," Jason said, standing. "Let's do this."

  Dewford Gym was busier than it had been during his scouting visit.

  A small crowd had gathered near the entrance—locals, other trainers, people who apparently had nothing better to do on a weekday morning than watch gym battles. Jason spotted Marcus near the back, leaning against a palm tree with his arms crossed. The sailor caught his eye and nodded once, a gesture of support.

  Hana was there too, standing apart from the crowd with Ren on her shoulder. She'd finished her Ranger business yesterday and made it back in time. When she saw Jason approaching, she offered a small smile.

  "Ready?"

  "As I'll ever be."

  "You've prepared well. Trust your training." She paused. "And trust your Pokémon. They won't let you down."

  Jason took a breath and walked through the gym's entrance.

  The interior was exactly what he'd expected from a Fighting-type gym—an open arena with sand-covered floors, training equipment pushed against the walls, and the smell of sweat and exertion hanging in the air. Makuhita and Machop were visible in side rooms, going through training routines under the supervision of gym trainers.

  A young man stood in the center of the arena, stretching casually. He had blue hair, board shorts, and the kind of lean, athletic build that came from years of surfing and martial arts training. His smile was easy and genuine as Jason approached.

  "Hey! You must be the challenger." Brawly extended a hand. "I'm Brawly, Dewford's Gym Leader. You're Jason, right? The guy with the Paldean starter?"

  "Word travels fast."

  "Small island. Everyone knows everything." Brawly's grin widened. "I've been looking forward to this. It's not every day I get to battle something I've never seen before."

  A referee took position at the side of the arena—a middle-aged woman with a whistle and official League insignia. She waited for both trainers to take their positions before speaking.

  "This is an official Hoenn League gym battle between Gym Leader Brawly and challenger Jason Cahill of Littleroot Town. The challenger has one badge. This will be a two-on-two battle. Only the challenger may substitute Pokémon. The battle ends when both Pokémon on one side are unable to continue."

  She looked at both trainers. "Ready?"

  Brawly nodded, a Pokéball already in hand.

  Jason touched Ralts's Pokéball at his belt, then Sprigatito's. He'd decided on his order during the walk here.

  "Ready."

  "Begin!"

  "Machop, let's go!"

  Brawly's first Pokémon materialized in a flash of light—a humanoid figure with gray-blue skin and powerful muscles. It dropped into a fighting stance immediately, eyes locked on Jason.

  "Sprig, you're up!"

  Sprigatito emerged from her ball, landing lightly on the sandy arena floor. She sized up her opponent with predatory focus, tail swishing slowly. Jason could see her confidence—she'd trained hard for this, and she was ready.

  "A Grass-type against Fighting?" Brawly raised an eyebrow. "Interesting choice. Machop, Low Kick!"

  The Machop surged forward with impressive speed, sweeping its leg toward Sprigatito's legs.

  "Dodge right, Leafage!"

  Sprigatito flowed sideways—the lateral movement they'd drilled so many times—and launched a barrage of glowing leaves at her opponent's exposed flank. The attack connected cleanly, drawing a grunt of pain from Machop.

  "Good speed! Machop, Karate Chop!"

  "Keep moving, don't let it set up!"

  The battle became a dance of motion. Machop pressed forward aggressively, throwing punch after punch, while Sprigatito wove between attacks, retaliating with Leafage whenever she found an opening.

  Sprigatito was quick—quicker than Machop expected. Every time it managed to land a glancing blow, she rolled with the impact, minimizing the damage." But Machop was tough—the Leafage attacks were doing damage, but not enough to end things quickly.

  "Low Sweep!"

  The attack came low and fast. Sprigatito jumped, clearing the sweep—

  "Now, Seismic Toss!"

  Machop's hand closed around Sprigatito's hind leg before she could fully escape. With terrifying strength, it lifted her off the ground and spun, building momentum.

  "Sprig!"

  She was slammed into the sand, hard. Jason's heart lurched.

  But Sprigatito was already rolling, turning the impact into a recovery, putting distance between herself and Machop. She was hurt—he could see it in the way she moved—but not beaten.

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  "You okay, girl?"

  A defiant sound. Yes, she was okay. Yes, she was angry. Yes, she wanted to win.

  "Then let's show him something new. Magical Leaf!"

  The attack that had emerged during training—the one she'd only used a handful of times. Her fur shimmered, and then the leaves came, brighter than Leafage, edged with iridescent light.

  Machop tried to dodge, but these leaves didn't follow straight paths. They curved, adjusted, homed in on their target like guided missiles.

  The impact was devastating. Machop stumbled back, bleeding from a dozen small cuts, and Sprigatito pressed her advantage with another barrage.

  "Machop, Focus Energy! Push through!"

  But Machop was done. The second Magical Leaf volley caught it in the chest, and it collapsed to the sand, unconscious.

  "Machop is unable to battle! Sprigatito wins!"

  Brawly recalled his Pokémon, expression thoughtful. "A never-miss attack? Nice. That's a neat trick." He pulled out his second Pokéball. "But tricks only get you so far. Makuhita, let's turn this around!"

  The Pokémon that emerged was... round. That was the first word that came to mind. A rotund, cream-colored figure with stubby limbs and small eyes that belied its fighting capability. It slapped its belly, producing a surprisingly loud sound, and dropped into a wide stance.

  "Sprig, you need a break?"

  She shook her head—a clear no. She wanted to keep fighting.

  "Okay. Stay mobile, same as before. Magical Leaf!"

  The homing leaves launched toward Makuhita—

  "Bulk Up."

  Makuhita flexed, its body seeming to swell with power. The leaves struck, but with less visible effect than they'd had on Machop.

  "Again!"

  "Take it and Arm Thrust!"

  Makuhita absorbed the second Magical Leaf with a grunt and charged forward, faster than its bulk suggested possible. Its stubby arms became a blur of strikes—

  Sprigatito dodged the first thrust. The second. But she was tired from the Machop fight, slower than she'd been at the start. The third thrust caught her in the side. The fourth sent her tumbling.

  "Sprig!"

  She tried to rise, legs trembling. Jason could see her determination—she didn't want to quit, didn't want to let him down—

  "Return."

  The red light caught her mid-struggle, pulling her back to her Pokéball. She'd done well. Better than well. But asking more from her now would be cruel.

  "Smart choice," Brawly said, nodding approvingly. "Knowing when to pull back is as important as knowing when to push."

  Jason clipped Sprigatito's ball to his belt and reached for his second.

  "Ralts, you're up!"

  Ralts materialized on the arena floor, small and pale against the sand. She looked up at Makuhita—easily three times her size—and Jason felt her fear through their bond.

  But underneath the fear was something else. Determination. Trust. The memory of the Tentacool, of facing something scary and helping anyway.

  I can do this, she sent. I want to try.

  "I know you can," Jason said quietly. "Double Team, then Confusion!"

  Ralts split into copies—four of them, shimmering into existence around her. They moved together, circling Makuhita while the real Ralts gathered psychic energy.

  "Don't let her set up! Arm Thrust!"

  Makuhita charged into the copies, its fists passing through illusions that burst like soap bubbles. One down. Two.

  But the real Ralts was already attacking. Confusion struck Makuhita's mind, and the Fighting-type staggered, clutching its head.

  "Good! Keep the pressure on!"

  "Shake it off, Makuhita! Vital Throw!"

  Makuhita lunged blindly, trying to grab anything solid. Its hand closed on—

  An afterimage. The copy dissolved, and the real Ralts was behind it, launching another Confusion.

  "Sand Attack!" Brawly called.

  Makuhita's foot swept sand toward Ralts's general direction. Without clear vision of its target, the attack was poorly aimed, but some of it found its mark. Ralts flinched, momentarily blinded.

  "Now, Arm Thrust!"

  This time Makuhita connected. The blow sent Ralts flying, and she hit the sand hard. Jason felt her pain through their bond—not devastating, but significant.

  Her Fairy typing, he reminded himself. She resists Fighting moves. She's tougher than she looks against this matchup.

  "Ralts, can you continue?"

  She was already standing. Unsteady, but standing. Through their bond, he felt her answer: Yes. I'm not done.

  "Double Team again, then Disarming Voice!"

  More copies appeared—only three this time, Ralts's energy flagging. But it was enough to confuse Makuhita's targeting.

  Disarming Voice was different from Confusion. Instead of targeting the mind, it was pure sound—a wave of fairy-type energy that couldn't be dodged or blocked. The attack washed over Makuhita, and the Fighting-type bellowed in pain.

  "That's Fairy-type," Brawly observed, eyes sharp. "Your Ralts is Psychic and Fairy?"

  "She is."

  "Interesting." Brawly's expression shifted—more serious now, recognizing the threat. "Makuhita, Knock Off!"

  Dark-type. Super-effective against Psychic—

  "Dodge!"

  Ralts tried to move, but she was too slow. The dark-infused strike caught her and sent her tumbling. Jason felt the impact through their bond, felt her struggling to stay conscious.

  "Ralts!"

  She was down. Not unconscious—he could feel her mind still present, still fighting—but unable to rise.

  "Ralts is—"

  "Wait." Jason's voice cut through the referee's announcement. "She's not done yet."

  On the arena floor, Ralts was moving. Slowly, painfully, she pushed herself up. Her whole body trembled with the effort. Through their bond, Jason felt her exhaustion, her pain, her fear.

  And underneath it all, her refusal to give up.

  Not yet, she sent. I can still fight. I want to show you... show you I'm brave...

  "Ralts..."

  She stood. Barely. Swaying. But standing.

  The crowd, which had been murmuring throughout the battle, fell silent. Even Brawly looked impressed.

  "That's some spirit," the gym leader said quietly. "But spirit alone won't—"

  "Confusion."

  Ralts gathered what energy she had left. Her horns glowed faintly—not the bright pulse of a fresh attack, but something dimmer, more desperate.

  The psychic wave struck Makuhita. And this time, the Fighting-type didn't just stagger.

  It fell.

  The arena was silent for a long moment. Then the referee's voice cut through:

  "Makuhita is unable to battle! Ralts wins! The victory goes to challenger Jason Cahill!"

  Jason didn't remember crossing the arena.

  One moment he was standing at his position, the next he was on his knees in the sand, Ralts cradled in his arms. She was barely conscious, her psychic presence flickering like a candle in the wind.

  "You did it," he whispered. "You were so brave. So incredible. I'm proud of you."

  A faint pulse through their bond. Warmth. Happiness. I did it. I was brave.

  Then she was unconscious, exhausted beyond her limits but victorious.

  Jason held her close, tears he hadn't expected prickling at his eyes. She'd faced her fears. She'd fought through pain and exhaustion and the very real possibility of failure. And she'd won.

  That's my girl.

  Brawly approached as Jason stood, Ralts still cradled carefully in his arms.

  "That was a hell of a battle," the gym leader said. "Your Ralts especially. I've seen a lot of Pokémon fight through tough situations, but that kind of determination?" He shook his head. "That comes from trust. She trusts you completely."

  "I trust her too."

  "I can tell." Brawly reached into his pocket and produced a small badge—orange and red, shaped like a boxing glove. "The Knuckle Badge. You've earned it."

  Jason accepted the badge with his free hand, feeling its weight. His second gym badge. Another step forward.

  "Your Sprigatito impressed me too," Brawly continued. "That Magical Leaf attack—is that new?"

  "She just learned it. We've been training hard."

  "It shows. You've got good instincts, and your Pokémon clearly respect you." Brawly glanced toward the gym entrance, where the crowd was starting to disperse. "A word of advice, trainer to trainer?"

  "Please."

  "The road ahead gets harder. The gym leaders, the challenges, everything. But what I saw today—the way your Pokémon fight for you, the way you fight for them—that's what separates good trainers from great ones." He smiled. "Keep building on that foundation. It'll take you far."

  Outside the gym, Hana and Marcus were waiting.

  "Two badges," Hana said, something like pride in her usually reserved expression. "Congratulations."

  "That was intense," Marcus added. "When your Ralts got back up after that Knock Off... I thought for sure she was done."

  "She's stronger than she looks." Jason glanced down at the unconscious Pokémon in his arms. "We should get to the Pokémon Center."

  "I'll walk with you," Marcus offered. "Got some news anyway. The ferry to Slateport is running again—leaving tomorrow morning if you want to catch it."

  Tomorrow. Already time to move on.

  Jason looked at the badge in his hand, then at Ralts, then at the ocean stretching beyond the harbor. Two badges down. Six to go. And somewhere out there, Team Aqua was planning something that could change everything.

  But that was tomorrow's problem. Today, he'd won. Today, his Pokémon had proven themselves. Today was a good day.

  "Let's get Ralts healed up first," he said. "Then we can talk about Slateport."

  The small group headed toward the Pokémon Center, the afternoon sun warm on their backs and the sound of waves following them through the streets of Dewford Town.