I Will Touch the Skies – A Pokemon Fanfiction

Chapter 128

CHAPTER 128

“Hahaha!” I laughed until I could barely breathe. “What the hell was even that?! Were you even trying?”

“Yeah, I’d like to see you do better,” Denzel said. “Why don’t we have you put on a performance right now?” Emilia groaned and kicked Denzel in the leg. “What the hell? Why me?!”

“Let the video finish, Arceus! I want to make sure the voice-over’s recorded properly,” she complained.

“Grace started it, though.”

“I didn’t want to hit a girl. Now quiet.”

Emilia, Denzel, and Vincent’s video was being played in Pauline’s room, which at this point was everyone’s room, with how much we were staying in it. They had recorded it yesterday after they had gotten a good night’s sleep after Josephine’s revelations, but Emilia hadn’t uploaded it yet, since they were waiting for the contest to take place. Pauline had sent a text to Louis to warn him about it, and he surprisingly answered, which meant they talked for the first time in weeks. There were talks about a meeting, but he seemed squeamish about the possibility and nothing had been set up quite yet.

I laughed again at the video as Denzel miserably tried to make his Snorunt make Powder Snow spin like a tornado. Emilia and Vincent, who’d been acting as the judges for the concept, gave him a one and a three. If I remembered correctly, the scores were out of ten— although during the battle stages, the points worked completely differently. Instead of there being a score, points would be deducted until one contestant reached zero.

“At least Vincent gave me a three…” Denzel sighed.

“I think he just felt bad for you,” Pauline shrugged. “I do have to admit, that was some excellent editing, and he only had a day to do it.”

Justin’s eyes widened slightly. “Did you… compliment him?”

“It’s a long story, but Pauline’s being on her best behavior,” Emi explained. 

“Does that mean she’ll finally be respectful to me too or…” Justin asked, but trailed off when she just glared. “I figured. When are you uploading it?”

“After my performance today,” the girl sighed as nervousness began to creep in. “Win or lose, I’ll get my name out there, and if I upload the video right after the contest, it might trend and jumpstart my channel.”

“Good idea,” I nodded. “The Poketch Company basically wants to do the same thing with me. Anyway, your performance is in four hours, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you start getting ready? Cece took that long just to get ready to meet my dad.”

“It was important…” she grumbled.

“I know, I know,” I smiled.

“Yeah, I suppose I can’t exactly avoid it any longer. I feel ready, but… I can’t help but imagine the worst, you know? I hope the judges are lenient… some of them really pick your performance apart if they don’t like it.”

“Like you did with me?” Denzel asked.

This time, Pauline kicked him in the leg, and he groaned, opting to just get away from people to stop getting hit. 

“That was rude, Denzel, but I’ll let it slide,” Emilia said, hiding her smirk. “Pauline, come help me get ready.”

“Sure thing, babe,” the redhead immediately said as she shot up.

“Babe?!” I yelled in surprise. “What the hell…”

I still hadn’t thought of a nickname for Cece.

Well, I’d go and train while the others were getting ready. My strategy still needed a few finishing touches, meaning that I still needed to watch more videos. My Pokemon could battle each other and practice their moves in the meanwhile.

——

The Hearthome Contest Hall was huge, and even in the lobby, the ceiling hung so high that it didn’t even feel real. The pink, patterned carpet seemed way too clean for a place that was frequented this much. According to Emilia, this was the number one attraction in the city, and it showed. Since there was a performance soon, the hall was packed so full that even I felt nervous, and I wasn’t even the one performing. 

“I keep forgetting we have to buy these. Ugh,” Denzel said as the receptionist handed us our tickets.

“Come on, you both finally have money to spend,” Pauline rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stingy with it already.”

“It’s not as much as you’d think—” Denzel and I both said at the same time. “Jinx!” I yelled.

“I’ll buy you something at Arlyle’s later,” he smiled.

“Yes!!” I jumped.

It wasn’t like I could expect Pauline to understand the concept of saving money. She’d been raised in a completely different world, after all. Once we all had our tickets, we brought Emilia to the contestant’s entrance, where there was an obvious divide. The nervous coordinators that were obviously new, fidgeting, pale, staring around the room, or trying to distract themselves by looking at their phones. Then, there were the experienced ones that carried themselves with confidence. They walked with their backs straight and with purpose. Some were even getting pointers from their manager— or sometimes managers. Plural.  Emilia anxiously patted her long, white, flowery dress down and then opened her compact mirror to check her makeup.

I wondered why she hadn’t hired a manager yet. She certainly had the money for one, but maybe she wanted to work independently for a bit.

“We all told you, you look amazing, Emi,” Pauline said. “Come on, you’ve got this!”

“Oh, Arceus,” she nervously said. “I’m going to pass out. Then throw up. No, wait, the opposite.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Cece gently said. “Just remember your training, and smile.”

“Right,” she nodded. “I need to smile. To smile…”

“Entrance is closing in two minutes,” Justin said, looking at his phone. “You should go. We’ll be rooting for you from the stands.”

“Okay. I can do this. I can,” she said, finishing that sentence more firmly than usual. “I’m going.”

“We all believe in you!” I yelled as she left.

“Just remember to have fun!” Denzel said.

“Our seats are complete shit, by the way. I guess we should have bought them beforehand instead of doing it last minute,” Pauline sighed.

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, that would have been smart. It’s not like I warned you or anything.”

——

Contests were different than gyms in every sense, but the biggest one Emilia found was that the waiting room wasn’t just for one person. It was for every single participant. Coordinators filled every corner of the room as she squeezed past them, looking for Vincent. He was participating too, and he had told her they’d meet in the waiting room. Of course, that was easier said than done, especially in these Arceus damned heels that were starting to hurt like hell. And yet, she’d have to wear them a lot longer, unless she was called immediately and got a terrible score. Unlike gyms, contests were hour-long experiences. Even though performances for the first round were short, with a maximum time limit of five minutes, every single coordinator here would have a turn, and it added up very quickly.

Ah! There he was. Vincent was sitting on one of the benches and putting on foundation to hide some of his pimples. Well, Emilia couldn’t really blame him for that, since she had done the exact same a few hours earlier. His long, wavy hair was tied in a ponytail, and he was wearing a colorful purple suit and tie.

“Vincent!” Emilia screamed to get her voice heard. Her friend waved at her and smiled. He shuffled a bit to the right to leave her space to sit, and she sighed in relief, taking off her shoes. Finally, her feet could rest. “It’s packed in here.”

“Yep, it’s the Hearthome Contest Hall,” he smiled. “Doesn’t get more packed than this, except when there’s a ribbon to win. Then, they have to fit us in makeshift waiting rooms.”

“I don’t mind it, personally,” Emilia said. “On one hand, I have less of a chance to stand out, but it’s comforting to think that a lot of people are new at this like I am. Nice suit, by the way. You never told me you had it.”

Vincent shrugged. “I rented it.”

“O—oh.”

The short boy laughed. “Don’t get all sad on me! People have said a lot worse here, I really don’t mind. A lot of the newer coordinators don’t have enough money to buy actual outfits, so they’ll rent them instead. I’ll have to return this one later tonight, so I’m not charged for two days.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll place high enough to make money out of it,” Emilia cheered.

Vincent smirked. “You’re a hell of an optimistic gal, ain’t ya? We’re usually a lot more doom and gloom about things.”

“I’m actually a lot more negative than my friends,” she responded. “Did you get your performance down?”

“Just in the nick of time,” he said. “Beautifly and Roselia figured it out yesterday. I’ve always been a last-minute kind of guy.”

Grace would have hated that. Vincent had three Pokemon, and his Roselia was the sweetest thing, and somewhat shy, so the opposite of Denzel’s. His last Pokemon was a Girafarig— his starter— but he wasn’t using him for this contest, and a coordinator was locked into using two Pokemon for the contest’s entire length. Emilia was using Rockruff and Beldum. She had considered using Aipom instead of the steel type, but she had come up with a brilliant idea that had changed her mind. Plus, he was excellent at learning TMs quickly. In fact, he did so at ridiculous speeds. Emilia didn’t know if it was because he was smart or something else, but it was a serious boon for her coordinator career. Emilia decided to try to listen in on what her fellow coordinators were saying, and it was a mishmash of panic, last-minute advice-giving, and theories. Apparently, a coordinator in high places had leaked who the judges would be, and it had caused a bit of alarm throughout the waiting room, because one of them liked out-of-the-box performances. Emilia shuffled around awkwardly.

“There’s no point in changing your plan this late in the game,” her friend assured. “Better stick to what you know and not mess up. You don’t need tens, you just need to be consistent and get better grades than everyone else. Usually, that’s at least a seven from each judge. Hell, even a six is fine if the other two grade you well.”

But that wasn’t enough to make it to the top sixteen, and they both already knew that. It was just enough to show people that you were competent enough to put on a good performance and barely enough to satisfy the judges so that they'd compliment you instead of putting you down. Most of the time. 

“I know, it’s just that when I see everyone scrambling around like this, it makes me want to do it too. I keep asking myself if I missed something,” Emilia sighed.

“Just stick to what you showed me, and you’ll do great. The first contestant’s being called,” Vincent said, nodding toward a screen hanging above the door to the performance stage. A person’s face and name were continuously flashing. “If you want to watch what they do, you can just watch the screen here or do it on your phone since they’re broadcasting this live. Hard to hear anything in this room, though.”

A few minutes later, the coordinator came back with a satisfied look on his face. He must have done well, from the way the audience had been cheering. Emilia had been too nervous to look. A few people swarmed around him just to speak, and he seemed to enjoy the attention quite a bit. Soon enough, people started filtering in and out to perform. Sometimes, they came back proud, and other times, they came back distraught. Judges were ruthless and wouldn’t hesitate to dress you down if they wanted to. They’d have to wait for this phase of the contest to finish and for the top sixteen to be announced. Those would be the ones to move on to phase two— the battle stage. Vincent winced when the twentieth coordinator was called up.

“Ava Belle,” he grimaced. “One of Jasmine’s.”

“Jasmine is here?” Emilia said, suddenly feeling more nervous.

“Yeah, everyone wants a chance to win big,” he nodded. “She must be around here somewhere. Hopefully, she’ll keep away. I’m not exactly in the mood to fight her posse.”

By her posse, Vincent meant her roommates, Ava and Olivia, which he always complained about. Emilia suspected that there was more history there than met the eye.

“How good is she, actually?” Emilia asked.

“She acts like she’s the best coordinator in the world, but she ain’t much in the grand scheme of things. Jasmine’s just like us, she doesn’t have a ribbon. I have to admit, she’s probably better than you and I, though, but don’t tell anyone I said that. She’s been in more contests than me, so she has more experience. That helps with the nerves, and when you’re not nervous, you’re performing at your best.”

“Grace would disagree,” Emilia said. “She says that it keeps you sharp.”

“A difference in philosophy, I suppose,” he smiled. “Now let’s watch and hopefully see Ava fumble her performance.”

Ava did not fumble her performance. It was a fairly straightforward, but masterful one that involved her Minccino using Helping Hand in a satisfying rythm to continuously power up her Seel’s ice type attacks, which in this context, meant that they were brighter and more beautiful. She finished the entire thing off with an Aurora Beam that diffused high in the stadium, and a series of colors danced above the spectators.

Like the northern lights.

The judges gave her a seven, a seven, and an eight. A performance that good, and she was barely scraping by the judges, if Vincent’s baseline was accurate. The more experienced coordinators kept getting higher grades than even that. It was starting to dawn on Emilia that there were too many experienced coordinators here for the newer ones to even have a chance. Only the top sixteen would advance, so there was just no space for them.

She was starting to understand how unfair the whole system was, and it had taken until she had been a victim of it to realize it. But she wouldn’t give up now. She had come this far, and she would give it her all.

But what if her all wasn’t enough?

“Shit, my turn already?” Vincent sighed. He was being called up. “Well, fuck, let’s do this.”

“Break a leg!” Emilia said.

“Thanks.”

“Oh, lookie here!” Someone yelled. “I didn’t know Vince was participating. Think he’ll crash and burn like last time?”

“I sure hope so,” another girl yelled.

Emilia couldn’t exactly see who was talking, but she recognized Jasmine’s shrill voice. Vincent scanned the room, trying to find her, and he seemingly did, because he raised a middle finger in her general direction before leaving to perform. In a way, it was incredible how Jasmine and her two friends embodied the mean girl cliche so obnoxiously well. Emilia inhaled as she stared at the screen, waiting for Vincent’s turn to start.

——

“Wait, wait, that’s Vincent!” Denzel yelled, snapping Cecilia out of her daze. Everyone else had been at least somewhat involved in the different performances, but she was bored out of her mind— or at least she had been. Now that someone we knew was about to perform, she appeared to be paying attention.

Vincent strode up in a horrid purple suit, and he released a Roselia and a Beautifly. Denzel stared on with a grin, happy that his new friend had the same Pokemon he did. Come to think of it, I had never asked Vincent what his Pokemon were, which was probably rude. Since he wasn’t a trainer, my mind hadn’t even registered that he’d have any, which was conceited of me.

“And now we have Vincent Campbell, performing with his Roselia and Beautifly!” The commentator said. “Take it away!”

“My pleasure,” he smiled. “Roselia, Magical Leaf!”

The grass type cried out in a smooth voice that was so alien to what I was used to with Denzel’s Roselia that I almost had to do a double-take. It brought its flowers up, and shining leaves flew into the sky.

“Beautifly!”

The bug type waited for a few seconds, and then beat its wings, creating an Air Cutter that sliced up almost every Magical Leaf into a thousand pieces that all floated down slowly like snow that kept changing color.

“What a wonderful display of teamwork between the two Pokemon! The Magical Leaf has turned into multicolored glitter!”

Or glitter. Thank you, commentator.

“Keep them floating,” Vincent told his Beautifly. The bug type beat its wings again, and this time, a weak Gust kept the glittery Magical Leaf suspended in the air. “Roselia, Stun Spore!”

With another gentle cry, Roselia shook her flowers, emitting a bright, purple powder and began to float in the air, joining in with the Magical Leaf.

“Now, power up your Gust!”

The wind picked up and spun around, mixing the leaves and the spores together until they were joined in a single, beautiful union. Beautifly screeched as it finished off its gust, sending the two attacks as high as it could. The Magical Leaf now slowly fell again, almost drifting in the air, this time accompanied by the Stun Spore. Some parts had a bigger concentration of spores that acted as bright ‘lights’ that gave the entire combination a lot of depth. Vincent bowed as he finished his performance, and after the commentator gave her last piece of commentary, we all clapped for him.

The first judge raised his sign, giving him a seven.

“A good performance, although there are a lot of quirks to fix up and work on. That Air Cutter was not precise enough, and as far as uniqueness goes, we’ve seen a lot of similar performances. Still a solid job.”

The second judge gave him a six.

“Look at that, another multicolored attack falling slowly. What an absolute bore! The only reason I didn’t give you a five is because you’re still a beginner, and you look like you’ve at least put in some effort. I’d like to see some more unique performances from you.”

The final judge slowly raised his sign for dramatic effect. They were probably playing it up for the audience. He gave him a seven.

“My two colleagues have said a lot of good points, but I do want to add that adding that Stun Spore to the mix meant that he went beyond what we’re used to. Keeping both attacks suspended with Gust was a nice display of control from Beautifly, even though the Air Cutter could use some work.”

Vincent bowed and thanked the judges before returning to the waiting room, and soon enough, the next face came through.

——

Vincent groaned as he sat next to Emilia. Jasmine had heckled him on the way there, but he just ignored them.

“You were great,” Emilia said, trying to comfort him. “That second judge was a bit harsh.”

“Nah, I bombed,” he exhaled. “I’m slowly improving, though. Last time, I got two fives and one six.”

“Well, just don’t beat yourself up over it,” Emilia said. 

“Yeah, not like any of the fresh blood have any chance to make it through anyway, unless someone really pulls all the stops. That’s the only way you can make it in the industry. Ram your head against the wall until you eventually make it to the top sixteen and get some attention, and use that as a springboard.”

Was the system really that broken? Emilia tapped her foot against the floor and bit her lip. If it was, then it meant that the coordinators at the top… weren’t they evil for not pushing for reform? She had already explained to her friends that they benefitted from the system, so there was no incentive for them to try to change it, but…

Emilia was starting to realize that her idols— even Temperance was not as pure as she seemed. Another fifteen minutes passed, and this time, it was Olivia’s turn. Jasmine’s other friend. In her humble opinion, her performance wasn’t that impressive, but it was certainly something she hadn’t seen before. Her Helioptile had used Rising Voltage, and her Furret had used Agility to start gliding in the air by using the electricity, almost as if it was swimming like a Huntail. It was still too heavy to stay afloat for long, though, but when it was, it did multiple acrobatics and flips.

She got a six, an eight, and another six for that performance. The second judge apparently did prefer uniqueness over flashiness. 

Maybe she could alter her planned performance to account for that, however slightly? Vincent had told her to stick to what she knew, but to have a chance at the top sixteen now, she had to take risks. If she could somehow add a bit of strangeness to her performance while keeping the flashier elements, then she’d maybe have a chance. To make it to the next round, she’d at least need three nines. That was the baseline.

A seemingly impossible task, but her friends would tell her not to give up.

She froze when Vincent tapped her shoulder. It was her turn. For some reason, she had believed that she’d have more time. Emilia hurriedly put her heels back on and tried to keep her legs from wobbling. She saw Jasmine give her a nasty smirk, and her friends giggled like idiots.

“Fuck you,” Emilia spat, not even turning to see their reaction.

Ah, that was satisfying. She could see why Pauline behaved as she did now.

Did she really need to change her performance? Was taking this risk okay? A young girl placed a small microphone on her neck, and she walked forward, acting as confidently as she could. She foolishly tried to spot her friends in the crowd, but that only served to make her more nervous.

Screw it, Emilia thought. We ball. 

It wasn’t like she had anything to lose, and since it was her first performance, people would give her a pass if she failed horribly. The performance she had worked on wasn’t good enough to make it. At this rate, she wouldn’t make it to the top sixteen. There was no more plan. It was time to improvise the entire damn performance. The coordinator released her Beldum and Rockruff, and the commentator announced her name.

She took a deep breath.

“Beldum, Shadow Ball! Keep it in the air!” Emilia yelled.

Shadowy energy quickly gathered in front of Beldum’s eye, and the steel type kept it in place.

“Rockruff, Rock Throw and get a rock inside of the Shadow Ball. Slowly.”

After a quick confused look at the fact that what she was doing was nothing like what they practiced, Rockruff slowly raised a solid chunk from the floor and carefully levitated it upward. When the rock reached the Shadow Ball, Emilia winced, expecting an ugly explosion at the worse, but to her relief, the rock simply was absorbed by the ball before imbuing it with ghostly energy. Both Rockruff and Beldum had to work to keep it afloat, now.

What now? Emilia thought to herself. After two seconds of thinking, she pointed at the rock and yelled.

“Flash Cannon!”

With a series of metallic, mechanical clicks, a bright light appeared in front of Beldum, and he sent it hurtling toward the rock, creating a powerful explosion that he discreetly cleared with Confusion. What remained was a mix of metallic white and purple dust slowly falling down like snow.

“What a beautiful way to mix colors you don’t often see together and a masterful control over Shadow Ball from Beldum! Keeping the move from exploding on contact is notoriously hard!” The commentator enthusiastically yelled.

It was? Emilia swallowed. That could have been a disaster, but she wasn’t done. This alone would have been disappointing, and she needed to do something to finish off her performance while the white and purple dust was still falling.

“Beldum, Confusion and throw Rockruff upward as high as you can! Rockruff, Trailblaze!”

The steel type’s eye shone as psychic energy surrounded Rockruff. Normally, Confusion kept a Pokemon’s muscles completely locked, but Beldum wisely had powered down the attack to let Rockruff move around, meaning that he was free to use Trailblaze.

He left a trail of green fire as Beldum catapulted him in the air, and the dust was still falling. 

“And flames rise into the sky like a towering inferno! I’m at the edge of my seat, ladies and gentlemen! Your guess for what happens next is as good as mine!”

And so was Rockruff now that he was out of Confusion’s range.

“Create a platform with Rock Throw and Confusion,” she ordered, hoping that they’d understand.

Another rock was raised, but they needed both attacks to make it as fast as she needed it to be, and Confusion would work to keep it in the air. Rockruff awkwardly landed on the rock, since he hadn’t expected any of this, and Emilia quickly asked for them to create a circle of levitating rocks.

“Double Team!” She said. “This is the finisher!”

Rockruff split into eight, each one of his copies taking their spot on a floating rock before bowing. Since the spectating ring was set up in a circle here, unlike gyms, it looked like every Rockruff was personally thanking the audience. That had been a part of their previous plan, which is why he had figured out what Emilia had meant by finisher. The audience clapped as Beldum slowly lowered the rocks to the ground, and Rockruff’s clones vanished. Emilia bowed and turned toward the ones who would decide her faith.

The judges.

Captivating the audience was a wonderful feeling that made her feel giddy, but they were the ones who had the final word.

The first one of the three raised an eight.

“What a wonderful performance! I found the start to be bit jarring, like you were still finding your footing, so I had to take a point away from you, but the rest was great. Combining Confusion and Rock Throw like that was certainly ingenious!”

The second judge raised a nine.

“I was on the edge of my seat the entire time! I truly didn’t know what would happen, and for someone who’s been in the industry as long as I have, that doesn’t happen often. You have potential, young lady.”

Emilia braced herself. At the very least, she needed another nine.

She restrained a grimace when she saw a seven.

“The performance was good, but I don’t appreciate the fact that there were multiple instances where you were obviously going at it haphazardly. The fact that you had to order your Pokemon what to do to the letter meant that your performance lacked elegance. I want coordinators to be prepared, and you weren’t. Luckily, it seemed that you had enough talent to salvage the entire thing.”

“Oh, please,” the second judge shook his head. “You’re too harsh! Give her a chance!”

“I’m afraid not, Thomas.”

Not enough.

Emilia recalled her Pokemon, bowed, and shuffled back toward the waiting room. She felt like tearing up.

“You were awesome up there!” Vincent beamed once she reached him. “That wasn’t at all what you practiced, but you still made it work! Even Jasmine begrudgingly admitted that you were good.”

“She did? I don’t really care,” Emilia said, rubbing her eyes.

“Well, she didn’t exactly, but I know how she functions. The way she looked at the screen? She knew you were a threat.”

“Whatever.”

“Come on, don’t get all depressed on me. This is your first contest, and you already got a nine and an eight. That’s crazy!”

In the end, Jasmine got a seven from the first, and two eights from the last two judges, meaning that Emilia had barely beaten her. She used her Nincada to turn the ground to mud, and her Flareon to burn it, turning the floor into makeshift lava with a sinister red glow that accentuated her Flareon’s color. She probably would have cared if she wasn’t so depressed.

According to Vincent, she had run away from home with a bunch of her dad’s money. Enough to buy a low-quality Fire Stone for her Eevee. Emilia was too down in the dumps to finally ask what their connection was, but if she had to guess, it’d probably be old friends that had a falling out.

None of them made it to the top sixteen. As much as it pained Emilia to admit it, even Jasmine had deserved a chance.

The system was unfair. New coordinators shouldn’t have had to compete with people that had years of experience under their belt. Emilia clenched at the side of her dress.

She had told her friends that she didn’t dream big. That all she worried about were the little things.

Screw all of that. Emilia would climb to the top, come hell or high water, and she would gain enough influence to reform the contest industry from the top down.

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