"If he loses, that proves he's not yet ready to challenge the two of us at once," Tulip said as if it were obvious. "He should follow the normal process—challenge you today, then come to Alfornada another day to challenge me.
Well? This saves everyone time and makes the battle more exciting, doesn't it?"
The air in the gym grew heavier for a beat.
For Jason, the proposal actually would save a lot of time. Win, and he takes two badges at once—huge savings of time and energy. Lose, and there's no real material penalty; it just makes the later schedule more troublesome and leaves the mental burden of "lost to a teamed-up pair of leaders."
The real pressure lay in the battle itself.
One a seasoned Ghost master, the other a meticulous Psychic expert; together they were far from "one plus one equals two." Their styles might differ, but their understanding of battles was top tier. If they teamed up, the chemistry could be unimaginable.
Ryme watched Jason, her smile widening. She liked Tulip's proposal—cool, very hip-hop. She wanted to see if this "talking Ditto" had the guts to accept.
Jason didn't answer immediately. He turned to his Pokémon. Gast had stopped playing with light spots and floated in front of him with a wicked grin, little fists crackling—clearly thrilled by a "two-on-two" and already itching to go. Iron Valiant was even more direct: it took a step forward, lightblades snapping out silently, eyes locking on the two leaders with battle signals utterly unhidden.
"Interesting."
Jason smiled, looked back at the leaders without a trace of hesitation. "I accept."
"Cool!" Ryme clapped first, loving his crisp decisiveness. "Done! Come on, kid—let this old lady see your rhythm!"
Tulip nodded, pleased. From her small bag she drew two Poké Balls, every gesture still poised. "Before we start, one more rule."
"Mm?" Jason gestured for her to go on.
"As gym leaders, each of us has four Pokémon for gym matches," Tulip said, raising four fingers. "So we won't end this in one bout."
Her eyes turned serious. "You must defeat four pairs in a row to truly win. In other words, this will be a 2-on-2, four-set gauntlet. Your Pokémon may not receive any kind of healing mid-series; their stamina will be continually drained. Now—are you still sure?"
A four-battle set—another notch of difficulty. He'd have to minimize Gast and Iron Valiant's attrition, preserving strength for later rounds. It would test his command, his read of the field, and his trust in his Pokémon. If it came to it, he and Miraidon would go in.
"Of course," Jason said, unchanged. "If it's just one round, where's the fun?"
His confidence—or rather, his confidence in himself—put a glint of genuine approval in Tulip's eyes. "Very well." She said no more and crossed to the far side to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Ryme.
Ryme set her mic aside, slipped the thickest chain from her neck, and tossed it to the DJ. "Kid, hit something heavy—opening time!"
"Got it!"
The young man shouted back and flew over the decks. The next second, pounding drums and melody filled the gym. Lights sharpened and focused, washing the central stage in white.
The room ignited.
Jason drew a deep breath and took his mark. Gast and Iron Valiant flanked him left and right, entering ready stance.
At Ryme's cue, the DJ swept both hands across the mixer; the light hop track flipped to an aggressive trap banger. Heavy kicks thumped in every chest; high-frequency hats ratcheted the tension. Spotlights shifted into crossing beams, isolating the battle floor like a stage.
The battle atmosphere peaked.
Ryme tossed a Poké Ball with casual ease and veteran calm. Tulip, in contrast, pinched her ball delicately between silk-gloved fingers and sent it in a graceful arc.
"Showtime!" Ryme called.
"Please take care of us," Tulip said softly.
Two white flashes—and their first duo hit the field.
Ryme's Pokémon: Mimikyu—small, shrouded in a rag with a crude Pikachu face scrawled on it. The tilted "neck" and unmoving faux head radiated wrongness. It swayed in place, silent—impossible to ignore.
Tulip's: Gallade—long-limbed, white and green, arm blades glinting razor-sharp. It stood tall, eyes focused—a knight's poise.
One eerie, one elegant—together they made a strange contrast and an invisible pressure. Mimikyu's Disguise is one of Ghost's most annoying abilities, nulling the first hit of any kind. Gallade was a top physical attacker—fast, hard-hitting.
Tulip left him no time to ponder and struck first. "Gallade—Swords Dance!"
At the order, Gallade moved—blades crossed with a clear ring; a sharp fighting aura rose, muscles seeming to tighten. A big Attack boost—if it set up, the follow-ups would be terrifying.
Meanwhile, Mimikyu only swayed, that forever-smiling face aimed at Gast and Iron Valiant. It did nothing—and that alone was a massive tactical threat.
Jason read it in a flick: use Mimikyu's Disguise as a perfect shield to eat the first hit while Gallade buffs in safety; once Gallade maxes Attack, it becomes the main breaker and shreds everything. Simple. Brutal. Effective.
To crack it, you had to do two things in the same turn: break Disguise and stop the Swords Dance.
"As if," Jason murmured, and his orders snapped out: "Gast—Will-O-Wisp on Gallade! Iron Valiant—Psycho Cut on Mimikyu!"
"Heh-heh!"
Gast cackled—she'd been dying for this. A fist-sized azure flame formed in her mouth and whooshed out at the dancing Gallade. Will-O-Wisp halves a physical attacker's power—nightmare fuel for bruisers.
Iron Valiant moved too. No frills—right arm up, blade popped and extended half a meter; a soft-violet slash cut the air, aimed dead at the "harmless" Mimikyu.
The idea: use the ranged cut to pop Disguise while Will-O-Wisp ruins Gallade's buff. Two birds, one stone.
But his opponents were two battle-hardened leaders.
"Naïve." Tulip's mouth quirked; her speed was frightening. "Quick Guard!"
Just before the flame landed, Gallade cut its dance and crossed its blades; a pale green barrier flared up. The blue fire splashed into ripples and died.
Quick Guard—blocking priority moves. Tulip had read the interference coming.
Across the field, Psycho Cut hit. Rriip. The violet slash cleaved the fake head; the crayon smile split and the rag slumped, exposing the black core beneath.
Disguise—broken.
The first exchange ended in a heartbeat. Jason had stripped their keystone defense and opened future lines. The price: Gallade had finished Swords Dance—now an upgraded engine of destruction.
On paper, a wash. On the field, danger screamed on Jason's side.
"Not bad, kid—managed to tick off my little Mimsy," Ryme said—praise or taunt unclear. Shorn of Disguise, Mimikyu seeped a sinister black aura.
"And now—how will you answer?" Tulip's eyes held a winner's ease. "Our turn."
"Gallade—Close Combat the Gengar!"
"Mimikyu—Shadow Claw!"
Their commands snapped almost as one—textbook focus fire and pin. Gallade blurred—white afterimage, and then it was in Gast's face, fist howling through the air for her jaw. From the shadows, Mimikyu's claw of pure night slashed for Iron Valiant—pinning him, denying a save.
The essence of doubles—perfectly shown.
Jason's eyes stayed calm—he'd seen this too.
"Iron Valiant—Protect!"
"Gast—Hex on Gallade!"
On the word, Iron Valiant moved—ignoring the incoming Shadow Claw and blinking to Gast's front, arms crossed. A green barrier blossomed, doming them both. Mimikyu's talon screeched on the shield and went no further; it barely wavered as it soaked the hit.
Gallade's Close Combat hit next—fist aimed at Gast. On cue, she floated back just a hair—slipping the direct line of the punch. The strike whiffed. Close Combat hits hard—but drops the user's Defense and Sp. Def. Right now, between swings, Gallade's guard was down.
Gast took the gap. "Now!" Jason barked.
"Heh-heh-heh!"
Red lit in her eyes; a darker-than-ever mass of shadow pooled in her claws—warping, roiling, a pulse that raised gooseflesh. Hex—double power on a statused target. Will-O-Wisp had been blocked, but Close Combat's defense drop was also a "debilitated state" Hex could punish.
"Go!"
At Jason's word, she shoved the orb forward. It curved in a wicked arc around Gallade's still-extended arm and smashed into its unguarded back.
Boom!
Shadow burst, the shock drove a cry from Gallade as it staggered forward, nearly to its knees—its back marked by a charred smear of cursed energy.
A massive hit.
~~~
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