14th Move: Ball Buster

14th Move: Ball Buster

Azalea Outskirts, Johto

“Phew, wasn’t that trip a blast from the past?” I brought my hand down, though not as low as I normally would’ve had to, to pet the fluffy red plume of my Pikipek. As an alpha variant, my newest team member stood above my waist, instead of barely halfway up my shins as a typical specimen of her species does. “Although you weren’t there for it, scouring the insides of a cave for stones, with a bird Pokémon that had a type gem tucked under her wing, is how I got my journey started, you know? Hopefully that means an auspicious start to the next arc of our adventure.”

Pikipek seemingly agreed with me as she suddenly fluttered off the floor and perched one of her oversized talons on the top of my head. After spending a couple days roughing it with the tumblestones, it was a nest anyway, so no point complaining.

Little did I realise she didn’t do that out of a sense of camaraderie, but because she used me as a footstool to get to higher ground. 

Out of nowhere, Spearows started cawing in a panic, a rain of leaves from the surrounding trees poured down, as a storm of flying Pokémon rushed to the skies. The ground rumbled. A shock of vibration rattled my bones even as I struggled to maintain footing at the shaking under me. An Earthquake - and I wasn’t talking about the move.

It didn’t last very long at all, surprisingly. Akin to a ripple rather than a sustained Seismic Toss. The vegetation didn’t sway, and neither was I skewered by stalactites falling from the Union cave’s mouth - just a bit of detritus that Pikipek feather dusted away with a flap of her wings. Honestly, it was less tectonic and more TNT-esque. 

I’d wager a kaboom had caused a crater somewhere nearby, and we were just experiencing the aftershocks. “Please don’t let that be an omen. C’mon Tu-Pikipek, let’s go and see if the town’s still standing.”

–

Azalea Town, Johto.

The forested village I’d stepped into was about as picturesque as it gets. Wilder than any proper city ought to be, though they made it work. A ring of lush trees surrounded the entire perimeter; roots littered with the freshly felled berries that had packs of Aipom and Ledian scampering out from their branch-hung nests.

Smoke scented the air over Azalea.

Mercifully, it wasn’t pollution born of destruction. The charcoal kilns were billowing out sweet fumes, signalling that the town had remained unscathed and recovered just fine.

However, crowds were still milling around the Scyther manicured lawns as people checked in with their neighbours over tightly packed dirt roads. Some of whom were reacting… poorly to the recent disturbance. “Almighty Johto has forsaken us! Seas swell with Suicune’s displeasure, thunder flashes with Raikou’s rage, and Entei erupts the ground beneath us! The end times! The end times! And where, I ask you, is our timeless saviour? Celebi has disappeared into the decades - we must repent, so that her absence might abate! Join me, brothers and sisters, dust your heads with ash and pray to the abandoned shrine in Ilex forest!” What I made the error of thinking of as a paranoid prophet giving a sermon to his worried township, “and what better ash to show your sincerity than our very own Azalea charcoal soot, fresh from the fireplace? Only fifty Poké a pouch!” ended up being an opportunistic entrepreneur looking for a payday. 

A man after my own heart. “Get off the street, you naughty Natu!”

“Boo!”

“You had us all worried - for this!?”

“Anyone got a Charizard? Let’s see if he fits inside one of those pouches.” Unfortunately, not all the villagers shared my appreciation for his commercial ambitions. 

Giving the riotous rabble a wide berth, my bird and I trudged our way to the corner of Azalea that had a large, two-story house, surrounded by a rainbow grove of apricorns. “This is us. He should be expecting us - well, me, at any rate.” I stood in front of the door to the world’s foremost Apriball artisan's abode. 

Taking initiative, Pikipek hopped off my head, landed on the welcome mat, and did what came naturally to woodpeckers, and knocked on wood. Thunk, thunk, thunk! We weren’t lucky, though, since no one answered. 

I pressed my ears to the door. All I could hear was her incessantly trying to drill a divot into it. Whatever type of wood it was made of was solid. Seeing no other option, and not willing to spend another night out cuddling the Caterpie, I turned the knob and imposed myself.

 As soon as I threw the door open -

“C’mon, put your back into it, girly!”

“But grandpa, it’s too heavy.”

“I believe in you, my girl. You can do it! Swing that thing with all the force of a Hammer Arm and bring it down right on my spine! Grandpa needs a realignment after that hullabaloo knocked me off my feet. How else am I going to be able to give my sweet and strong granddaughter the Ponyta rides she deserves?” 

“... Ok. Here I go. Hyah!”

“Gah!”

- I slammed it shut. 

My head ducked down, my hair drooped, and a shadow fell over my face. Even Pikipek looked perplexed. Both of us just witnessed a tiny girl swinging a sledgehammer taller and heavier than her, and smashing it down on an elderly man, who himself was begging for it. Neither of us wanted to believe it.

“Whew! Finally escaped - and relatively whole for once.” Momentarily ignoring the scene in front of me, I swapped my attention to the slightly smouldering scene behind. 

“Hey, soot salesman. Got a minute? I need to ask you a question.”

He immediately stopped fingering the scorched hole in his shirt and quirked an eyebrow at me. The unimpressed look that glazed over his face was likely because my dishevelled state didn’t scream wealthy. “Sure buddy, but make it quick. Time is money - and I don’t got enough of either to waste; you feel me?” A part of me wanted to be offended, but his cursory conclusion wasn’t off the mark. I was dirt poor at the moment, and my hope for free room and board was dwindling.

“Do you know who lives here, by any chance?” I thumbed the house over my shoulder.

“That right there’s old Kurt’s workshop.”

“... Are you absolutely certain?” Please don’t be.

“Oh, yeah. Without a doubt. Makes those pretty Pokéballs that cost a precious penny. Tried to get him to cut me in on a retail deal, but the kooky coot chased me out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my fair-weather friend, I’ve gotta get going before the fleet feet on the fine folk of this town Furret me out again. Look me up if you ever get money. You owe me now, anyway!” With that, he left, taking my marbles with him.

Well, since I’m now officially outside of my mind, might as well head inside. “Pardon the intrusion.” 

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock?” Came Kurt’s curt greeting.

“Yes, she also taught me to open the door when they do.” I responded in kind.

“Ha!” He slapped his knee - which clearly hadn’t suffered the same fate as his back, earlier. “With cheek like that, you can only be that old battle Axew’s boy. How’s Mr Pokémon, as the basic bitch has taken to calling himself these days, doing?” Taking that pun as permission to enter, I threw out my own.

 “Abnormal as ever.” My sponsor was a type specialist, after all.

“Good. You’ve got gumption, I’ll give you that. I agree with you, abnormal is right. He’s not the only one of my friends calling in favours after forever. Strange times, indeed.” He ushered his suddenly shy granddaughter, who peeked out from behind his legs. “Mind your manners now, girly. Introduce yourself properly. This here’s the boy I told you will be bunking with us for a while.”

“H-hello mister, it’s nice to meet you. I’m April.” Apri-? Nevermind, I don’t wanna get lost down that Raboot hole. 

“Uki’Uki, but please just call me Uki, or anything else - just not mister.”

“Okay. What about your Pokémon? I’ve never seen one like it before.”

I was gonna have to say the name, wasn’t I? Should’ve never agreed to my sponsor’s terms. “She’s an alpha Pikipek. It’s a bird Pokémon from the Alola region… her name’s Tuki.” Toucannon + Uki means I don’t need to spell it out. I could practically hear the George of the Jungle theme song playing in my head.

April shuffled out from behind Kurt and raised an exploratory hand towards Tuki. It reminded me of just how powerful those mitts of hers were when she lifted that massive hammer. “Can I pet her?”

I knew the Pikipek line could thrash their heads at a blistering pace, but I never realised they could shake it just as quickly. “Of course, just… er, be gentle.”

“Yay!” 

“Naming a Pokémon after yourself? What are you? Some kinda pervert?” Kurt was an old buddy of Mr Pokémon, so crotchety old man I was expecting. Age had a way of dissolving decorum. 

“Not my choice - your friend has a horrible naming sense. It was the deal I had to cut to get your introduction.”

“Dealing with us old codgers is never simple, is it? But that’s just what it takes to learn the ancient art of making Apriballs. Just ask April - my latest and greatest apprentice and eventual successor. Been at this longer than I can remember. Ain’t that right, girly? It takes decades of work. Of dedication.”

“But grandpa, I’m eight…” Yet, despite her age she had the arm strength of a veteran Tauros wrangler, as Pikipek was finding out with every scratch and stroke on her feathers.

“Close enough!”

“Then it seems I’m in excellent hands.” Unlike Tuki.

“Not yet, you aren’t!” A quick step forward, he snatched my wrist and firmly groped his way up my arm. Poking and prodding at specific pressure points that sent jolts of pain across my nerves. “Hmm. Not bad. But you’re gonna need to prove you have control over your aura as well.” That revealed the mystery of the juvenile juggernaut, at least.

“Wait, so Apriball production requires aura?” 

“It does the way I make ‘em. Apriballs are specific - delicate. These days, there’s tech the big corporations use to replicate the effects and produce their own inferior version en masse. But I don’t know any of that scientific mumbo-jumbo to teach you. And good luck discovering those secrets - I doubt they’ll appreciate giving competition the ability to rummage around their wallets. No, I got my methods and designs, and they got theirs. Question is: are you willing and able to learn mine?”

“Wouldn’t be here begging if I wasn’t willing.” My eyes darted to the sledgehammer the next generation master of Apriballs wielded so effortlessly. “As for ability…” I was more used to focusing the rush of aura I’d learnt to use on my legs, so rerouting it to my arm took a second. Grabbing the hilt, I hefted the sinkingly heavy tool with one hand. The floorboards creaked under our combined weight. “I can hold my own.” 

He gave a satisfied nod of approval and sat down on a cushion with his arms crossed. “Alright, here’s the offer. I’ll feed you, I’ll house you, I’ll teach you, but I won’t bankroll your fumbling. All raw material costs come out of your own pockets. If you’ve got the cash, you can buy them off me direct - or you can go hunt for them yourself. So, what’s it gonna be?”

In lieu of platitudes, I gently set the hammer down, slung off my rucksack, unbuckled the appropriate pouch, and upturned the entirety of its contents on to Kurt’s lap. Red, black, and blue tumblestones, along with an even more colourful assortment of apricorn halves, came tumbling out.

“Hey, hey, hey, watch it! Lesson number one - tumblestone cause shrinkage!”

Class was in session.