Chapter 61: Patricia VS Hannah
The morning sun broke through the clouds like a blade through silk, spilling honey-gold light across the Alburth estate's sprawling gardens. The grass shimmered with dew, each droplet a tiny prism catching the dawn, and the air carried the mingled scents of damp earth, blooming jasmine, and something sweet drifting from Hannah's kitchen window.
Patricia stood at the edge of the training field, her boots sunk slightly into the soft turf, her breath misting in the cool air. She rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck, and felt the familiar prickle of anticipation crawl up her spine.
Hannah emerged from the house, wiping her hands on a flour-dusted apron, her gray hair loose around her shoulders. She was smiling—that warm, disarming smile that had welcomed them all those years ago—but there was something else beneath it now. Something sharp.
"Patricia," she called, her voice carrying across the lawn. "I've been thinking."
"About?"
"About how long it's been since I've had a proper battle." Hannah untied her apron and draped it over a nearby bench. "And how you've grown since the last time we trained together."
Patricia's heart kicked.
"You want to battle?"
"I want to see what you've become." Hannah's brown eyes glittered. "Three on three. No stakes. Just... discovery."
Patricia looked toward the house. Briv stood in the doorway, coffee in hand, Monferno perched on his shoulder. He raised an eyebrow—that familiar, questioning look that asked without words.
She nodded.
"Alright," Patricia said. "Three on three."
---
Axel materialized from somewhere near the garden's edge, Rotom flickering at his shoulder like a living flame.
"I'll referee," he said.
Hannah tilted her head.
"I didn't ask."
"You didn't have to." Axel's voice was flat, but there was something almost playful beneath it. "I've been watching you, Hannah Alburth. You've got a reputation."
"As do you."
"Then you know I don't half-ass anything."
Hannah laughed—a bright, genuine sound that seemed to catch even Axel off guard.
"Fine. You'll referee."
---
The others gathered along the field's perimeter. Briv settled onto a stone bench, Monferno curling its tail around his arm. Nicola stood apart, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Dariana lounged against a tree, Eevee in her lap, Croagunk perched on a low branch above her. Samuel sat cross-legged on the grass, Doduo pecking at something in the dirt beside him.
Kay emerged from the house last, his blond hair still damp from the shower, and took a position near the back. He didn't look at Nicola. She didn't look at him.
The tension was a living thing.
Patricia ignored it.
She reached for her belt, fingers brushing the three Poké Balls she'd chosen.
"Ready?" Axel asked.
"Ready."
"Then send them out."
---
Hannah's first Pokémon hit the field in a burst of white light that solidified into a small, brown figure with a pale skull helmet covering its face. Cubone stood barely knee-high, its bone club clutched in one clawed hand, its dark eyes peering out from the shadows of its helmet.
It didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Just stood there, still as stone, waiting.
Patricia's fingers tightened around her first Poké Ball.
"Cranidos," she whispered. "Let's go."
The ball burst open, and Cranidos materialized with a thunderous crack—its blue body compact and muscular, its thick skull gleaming in the morning light, its small eyes burning with barely contained aggression. It stamped its feet, lowered its head, and let out a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through the ground.
Cubone didn't react.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Hannah moved first.
"Cubone—Bonemerang."
The bone club left Cubone's hand in a blur, spinning through the air like a discus, its arc impossibly fast and impossibly precise.
Patricia reacted on instinct.
"Cranidos—dodge left!"
Cranidos lunged sideways, its powerful legs kicking up divots of turf. The bone whistled past its ear, missing by inches, and curved back toward Cubone like a boomerang.
Cubone caught it without looking.
"Again," Hannah said.
This time the bone came low—a sweeping arc designed to take out Cranidos's legs.
Patricia saw it coming.
"Jump!"
Cranidos launched itself into the air, its heavy body somehow graceful, and came down hard, cracking the earth where Cubone had stood a moment before.
Cubone had already moved. Slow, deliberate, its small feet padding across the grass with an eerie, patient rhythm.
It was waiting.
---
Patricia felt it—that cold prickle of realization that crawled up her spine when a battle was shifting in a direction she hadn't anticipated.
Hannah wasn't attacking.
She was baiting.
"Cranidos—Headbutt. Now."
Cranidos didn't hesitate. It lowered its skull, pawed the ground once, and charged. The earth shook. The air split. It was a freight train of muscle and bone and unrelenting momentum.
Cubone didn't dodge.
It raised its bone club and held it horizontally, bracing for impact.
The collision was deafening.
Cranidos's skull slammed into the bone with a crack that echoed off the house. Cubone's feet dug furrows into the earth, sliding back a full meter, but it didn't fall. Didn't break.
It held.
"What the—" Briv breathed.
Hannah smiled.
"Cubone—Iron Defense."
The small Pokémon's body hardened visibly, its brown skin taking on a metallic sheen. When Cranidos pulled back, shaking its head, it found Cubone standing exactly where it had been—immovable, unshakable, patient as death.
"Your Cranidos is strong," Hannah said. "But strength alone won't win this."
Patricia's jaw tightened.
"Then I'll use more than strength."
---
"Cranidos—Zen Headbutt!"
Cranidos's skull flared with psychic energy—purple light crackling across its surface—and it charged again. This time, when it struck, the impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, flattening the grass in a perfect circle.
Cubone staggered.
For the first time, Hannah's expression flickered.
"Now!" Patricia shouted. "Again!"
Cranidos pivoted, came around for another pass, its head still glowing.
But Cubone had already recovered.
"Bonemerang—full arc."
The bone left Cubone's hand in a wide, unpredictable spiral—not a straight line, not a clean arc, but something chaotic and wild. It curved around Cranidos's guard, slammed into its flank, and ricocheted back before Cranidos could react.
Cranidos roared in pain.
"Finish it," Hannah said.
Cubone leaped.
It moved faster than Patricia had ever seen—a blur of brown and white—and brought its bone club down on Cranidos's skull with a crack that made the ground shudder.
Cranidos staggered.
Fell.
Didn't get up.
"Cranidos is unable to battle," Axel said, his voice flat and final. "Cubone wins."
---
Patricia recalled Cranidos with shaking hands.
"You did good," she murmured to the ball. "Rest."
She looked at Hannah.
The older woman was watching her with something that looked almost like pride.
"You've learned patience," Hannah said. "But you've still got a lot to learn."
Patricia's grip tightened on her second Poké Ball.
"Maybe," she said. "But I'm a fast learner."
She threw the ball.
"Budew—your turn."
The tiny Grass-type materialized in a swirl of green light, its small body wobbling slightly as it found its footing. Its half-open eyes blinked slowly, dreamily, as if it had just been woken from a pleasant nap.
It looked at Cubone.
Cubone looked back.
Budew tilted its head.
Then it yawned.
---
The assembled trainers exchanged glances.
"That's your choice?" Nicola asked, her voice flat with disbelief.
Patricia didn't look at her.
"Trust me."
Hannah's eyes narrowed.
"Cubone—Bonemerang."
The bone flew.
Budew didn't move.
It didn't flinch.
It didn't even seem to notice.
The bone struck it square in the face—
And passed through.
"What?" Hannah's voice cracked.
Patricia smiled.
"Substitute."
The illusion faded, revealing a small green doll where Budew had been standing. The real Budew was twenty feet to the left, its petals quivering with concentration.
"Now," Patricia said. "Leech Seed."
Budew opened its tiny mouth, and a cluster of seeds shot toward Cubone like buckshot.
Cubone tried to dodge.
Too slow.
The seeds struck its helmet, its arms, its legs—burrowing into the gaps between its armor. Thin green vines sprouted instantly, snaking around Cubone's limbs, pulsing with soft light as they drained energy and fed it back to Budew.
Cubone's movements slowed.
Its eyes grew heavy.
"Break free!" Hannah commanded.
Cubone flexed—muscles straining, bone club swinging—but the vines held.
"Growth," Patricia said.
Budew shimmered. Its body swelled slightly, its petals brightening, its roots digging deeper into the soil beneath its feet. The Leech Seed vines pulsed faster, draining more, giving more.
Hannah's jaw tightened.
"Clever," she admitted. "But not clever enough."
She snapped her fingers.
"Cubone—Bonemerang. Close range."
Cubone hurled its bone directly at Budew—not a sweeping arc, not a curve, but a straight, brutal shot.
Patricia didn't have time to react.
Budew didn't have time to dodge.
The bone struck it in the center of its mass and sent it tumbling backward, rolling head over heels across the grass.
"Cubone is free," Axel said, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Patricia's heart lurched.
But then—
Budew stopped rolling.
It wobbled to its feet—slowly, shakily—and turned to face Cubone.
Its half-open eyes had opened all the way.
They were glowing.
"Budew," Patricia whispered. "Solar Beam."
The sunlight around Budew bent, gathered, concentrated—golden light spiraling into the tiny bud at its center until it blazed like a miniature sun.
Cubone raised its bone club.
It wasn't fast enough.
Budew released the beam.
A column of pure solar energy erupted from its body, tearing across the field, and struck Cubone squarely in the chest. The small Pokémon was lifted off its feet, hurled backward, and slammed into a stone bench with a sharp, brutal crack.
The bench shattered.
Cubone didn't move.
"Cubone is unable to battle," Axel said. "Budew wins."
---
Hannah recalled Cubone with a slow, deliberate motion.
She didn't look angry.
She looked impressed.
"Your Budew," she said. "I underestimated it."
Patricia exhaled.
"Everyone does."
Hannah's second Poké Ball left her hand in a flash of light that solidified into a small, yellow figure with pointed ears, a lightning-bolt tail, and cheeks that crackled with barely contained electricity.
Pikachu.
It looked at Budew.
Budew looked back.
Then Budew collapsed.
"Budew is unable to battle," Axel said. "It exhausted itself with Solar Beam."
Patricia recalled her Pokémon with a whispered thank-you and reached for her third.
"Buizel," she said. "Let's finish this."
The Water-type exploded onto the field in a burst of orange and cream, its twin tails lashing, its flotation sac expanding as it took a deep, steadying breath. It looked at Pikachu with sharp, calculating eyes.
Pikachu crackled.
Buizel grinned.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Pikachu moved first.
"Thunderbolt."
Lightning erupted from Pikachu's cheeks—a white-hot lance of electricity that split the air and slammed into the ground where Buizel had been standing a heartbeat before.
Buizel was already gone.
It moved like water—flowing, shifting, impossible to pin down—weaving between the bolts with a grace that seemed almost supernatural.
"Hydro Pump," Patricia called.
Buizel opened its mouth and unleashed a torrent of water—not at Pikachu, but at the ground beneath it.
The field turned to mud.
Pikachu's feet slipped.
"Thunder!" Hannah shouted.
The lightning came again—wider this time, a net of electricity that spread across the mud like cracks in ice.
Buizel couldn't dodge.
It took the hit.
The electricity coursed through its body, making it convulse, making it scream—and then it was flying backward, smoke rising from its fur.
"Buizel!" Patricia cried.
Buizel hit the ground hard.
Rolled.
Stopped.
Didn't move.
"Buizel is unable—" Axel began.
Buizel moved.
It pushed itself to its feet—trembling, shaking, but standing—and looked at Pikachu with eyes that burned like coals.
"Its ability," Briv breathed. "Torrent."
Patricia felt her heart surge.
"Buizel," she said. "Aqua Jet."
Buizel disappeared.
Not moved—disappeared. It became a blur of water and motion, a living torpedo that rocketed across the field, slammed into Pikachu, and sent the Electric-type spinning through the air like a ragdoll.
Pikachu hit the ground.
Bounced.
Landed in the mud.
It didn't get up.
"Pikachu is unable to battle," Axel said. "Buizel wins."
---
Hannah recalled Pikachu without a word.
Her hand moved to her final Poké Ball.
"You've given me more of a challenge than I expected," she said. "But this is where it ends."
She threw the ball.
Flareon materialized in a blaze of crimson fur and swirling flame—its mane burning like a sunrise, its eyes glowing with intense heat, its beautiful, lethal form radiating power.
Buizel's eyes widened.
Flareon's mouth curled into something that might have been a smile.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Flareon moved first.
"Flamethrower."
The fire came like a river—a torrent of orange and gold and blinding white heat that turned the air to shimmering distortion.
Buizel dove into the mud and disappeared.
The flames passed over it, scorching the spot where it had been, turning the grass to ash.
"Where—" Hannah started.
Buizel erupted from the mud directly beneath Flareon.
"Water Gun!"
The blast caught Flareon in the underbelly and sent it stumbling backward, its flames sputtering.
But Flareon was fast.
Faster than Buizel.
"Quick Attack."
Flareon became a blur of red and white and slammed into Buizel before it could dodge—an impact so fierce that Patricia felt it in her chest.
Buizel flew backward.
Hit a tree.
Slid to the ground.
It didn't move.
"Buizel is unable—"
Buizel moved.
It pushed itself up—shaking, bleeding, broken—and looked at Flareon with that same fire, that same defiance.
Torrent again.
"You can't keep doing this," Patricia whispered.
But she knew Buizel wouldn't stop.
She knew it would fight until it couldn't.
She knew she had to end it fast.
"Buizel," she said. "Aqua Jet. Full power."
Buizel nodded.
Then it was gone—a missile of water and fury, screaming toward Flareon with everything it had left.
Flareon braced.
"Fire Blast."
The flames came in a cross shape—two massive columns of white-hot fire that intersected directly in Buizel's path.
Buizel didn't dodge.
It plowed straight through the flames, its water evaporating, its body burning, and slammed into Flareon with enough force to send both Pokémon crashing into the ground.
The explosion of steam and fire and water was blinding.
When it cleared—
Flareon lay on its side, its flames extinguished, its body still.
Buizel stood over it, swaying, its fur singed, its eyes barely open.
"Flareon is unable to battle," Axel said. "Buizel wins. Patricia wins the match."
---
The silence lasted three seconds.
Then Briv was on his feet, shouting, cheering, Monferno leaping from his shoulder and letting out a triumphant screech. Dariana clapped. Samuel whooped. Even Nicola cracked a smile.
Patricia ran to Buizel and scooped it into her arms.
"You absolute madman," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. "You beautiful, reckless, amazing little—"
Buizel licked her face.
She laughed.
She cried.
She held it close.
---
Hannah approached, her Flareon recalled, her expression soft.
"That was a battle," she said. "A real one."
Patricia looked at her.
"Thank you."
"No." Hannah shook her head. "Thank you. You reminded me what it feels like to be pushed. To be challenged." She smiled. "It's been too long."
She extended her hand.
Patricia shook it.
"You've earned this," Hannah said. "Six wins. That's no small thing."
Patricia's breath caught.
She'd known—of course she'd known—but hearing it said aloud, in this place, by this woman, made it real in a way it hadn't been before.
Six wins.
A full team.
Halfway to the League.
"I'm proud of you," Hannah said. "All of you."
She looked at Briv. At Nicola. At Dariana, at Samuel, at Axel.
"Whatever comes next," she said, "you'll be ready."
---
The sun had climbed high by the time they finished cleaning up the field.
Patricia sat on the porch steps, Buizel curled in her lap, Budew nestled against her shoulder, Cranidos's ball resting in her palm. She felt tired. Sore. Alive.
Briv dropped onto the step beside her.
"You crushed it," he said.
"She pushed me."
"So you learned something."
Patricia looked at him.
"I learned that I'm stronger than I thought."
Briv grinned.
"Took you long enough."
She punched his arm.
He laughed.
They sat there in comfortable silence, watching the others mill about the garden—Samuel showing Dariana a dance move, Axel discussing strategy with John, Kay standing alone near the pond, Nicola standing alone near the house.
Two people.
Not looking at each other.
Not not looking.
"Hey," Briv said.
"Yeah?"
"One month."
Patricia nodded.
"One month."
"We're going to be ready."
She leaned into him.
"We are."
---The afternoon passed in a blur of training and preparation.
Briv worked with Monferno and Turtwig, pushing them until their muscles screamed and their lungs burned. Riolu sparred with Shinx, Gible watched from a safe distance, and Piplup stood at the edge of the pond, staring into the water with those sad, gentle eyes.
Patricia trained with Gligar and Magby, her new additions finding their rhythm, their confidence growing with every drill.
Dariana stretched with Gallade, her movements fluid and precise, her body bending in ways that made Briv wince just watching.
Samuel played music on a small hand-drum, and his Pokémon moved to the rhythm—Doduo kicking, Aipom swinging, Sudowoodo swaying, Hippopotas stomping, Carnivine snapping, Nosepass standing perfectly still.
Axel watched them all.
He didn't train.
He planned.
---
That evening, they gathered for one final meal.
Hannah had outdone herself—roast chicken, whipped potatoes, fresh bread, roasted vegetables, and a dessert that involved three kinds of chocolate. The table groaned under the weight of it all.
Conversation flowed freely. Stories were shared. Jokes were told. For a few hours, they were just people—friends, allies, family—bound together by something stronger than circumstance.
Briv looked around the table.
Patricia on his right, holding his hand beneath the table.
Dariana across from him, winking when she caught his eye.
Samuel beside her, laughing at something Hannah said.
Axel at the end, quiet but present, his Rotom flickering in and out of his shoulder.
Nicola two seats down, her eyes meeting his for just a moment before shifting away.
Kay at the far end, staring at his plate.
They weren't perfect.
They weren't whole.
But they were together.
And that was enough.
---
Later that night, Briv stood on the balcony.
The city was still flickering—lights going on and off in unpredictable patterns—but the towers were holding, the canals were flowing, the bridges were moving. The Eclipse Squad had failed.
For now.
He felt someone step beside him.
Didn't need to look.
"Couldn't sleep?" Nicola asked.
"Not tired."
She leaned against the railing.
"Thank you," she said.
"For what?"
"For last night. For... for holding me."
Briv looked at her.
"Anytime."
She turned to face him.
Her eyes caught the faint glow of the city—brown and gold and full of something raw. Vulnerable.
"I don't know what I'm doing," she said. "I don't know what I want. I don't know if I'm supposed to move on or hold on or—"
She stopped.
Briv waited.
"I just..." She exhaled. "I'm glad you're here."
He reached out and took her hand.
She didn't pull away.
"I'm glad I'm here too."
They stood there, holding hands, watching the lights.
Not saying anything.
Not needing to.
---
The next morning, they said goodbye.
Hannah hugged them all again—even Axel, who still looked uncomfortable—and handed them enough food to feed an army. John shook their hands, one by one, and told them to be careful.
Kay stood at the gate.
He didn't speak.
He just watched.
And when Nicola walked past him—
She paused.
She looked at him.
"Take care of yourself," she said.
It wasn't forgiveness.
It wasn't anything, really.
But it was something.
Kay nodded.
"You too."
She walked on.
He watched her go.
---
They reached the city center by noon.
The crystal towers gleamed, the canals shimmered, the bridges floated. Aethelburg was alive again—not fully, not completely, but enough.
People filled the streets. Pokémon played in the parks. Vendors hawked their wares from carts and stalls.
It felt normal.
It felt like home.
But Briv knew it wouldn't last.
The Eclipse Squad was out there. Planning. Waiting. And in one month, they'd make their move.
He looked at his friends—his team—and felt something settle in his chest.
Let them come.
He'd be ready.
They'd all be ready.
---
That night, they checked into a new inn—a small place near the central plaza, clean and quiet and cheap.
Briv and Patricia took one room.
Nicola took another.
Dariana and Samuel took a third.
Axel took a fourth.
They slept.
They dreamed.
They prepared.
Because tomorrow the real training would begin.
And the countdown to the League continued.
---
Patricia lay in bed, her head on Briv's chest, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his skin.
"One month," she said.
"One month."
"Do you think we're ready?"
He kissed her hair.
"I think we're getting there."
She smiled against his chest.
"Good enough."
He held her close.
The city hummed outside.
The light flickered.
And somewhere in the darkness, the Eclipse Squad was watching.
Waiting.
But so were they.