Another rock plunked into the water with a deep sploosh, sending ripples out across the otherwise placid surface of the lake in a broad ring. Gin hadn’t even tracked that one, Mike noted. He picked up another pebble, rolling it in his palm, scowling down at its smooth grey facets.

There were all kinds of trainer resources, of course -- online courses, magazines, piles and piles of shitty books written back in the 50’s, youtube videos of amateurs and professionals alike… for most, it might seem like a daunting amount of information to wade through. It had never bothered Mike before, with Killer -- he just did what felt right, and Killer fell into eager step beside him. He kept her healthy without needing to read some bullshit book on ‘cooking natural gluten-free meals for your pokemon’. (That bullshit book probably had an overexposed picture of a field of grass on the cover, maybe with a skinny woman and her meowth skipping through the field as the sun set behind them.)

He’d never felt any need to seek help outside his own instincts until now. If he’d been the sort to feel guilt, there might have been a small pang of it here, as he recognized that maybe Gin should have gone to a more experienced trainer; someone to help him learn to work around his blind eye. Mike took it as a challenge.

Footsteps swishing through soft grass broke his reverie, and Mike twisted around to watch as his opponent approached. Finally! He eyed the other guy for a moment before standing, sizing him up. A bit of a pretty boy, but that had little hold over whether someone’s pokemon were any good -- and, hell, the ladies probably loved that shit. He stood and brushed the dirt off the seat of his jeans just as the guy released his pokemon.

“Guess so,” he replied, turning to watch the new pokemon. It was a tiny blue… thing, with thick fins. It bounced easily across the surface of the water and Mike’s mouth fell open in an excited smile. He wasn’t sure what that thing was, but he was sure it’d be damn glorious when it evolved. He stooped, bending at the waist over his bag, laying on its side on the ground. He was halfway through rifling through its side pockets for his pokedex when he paused, still leaning over, and met the other guy’s eyes. “Oh, m’name’s Mike by the way.”

Pokedex successfully retrieved, he stood tall and flipped it open, training it on the Mantyke. “Pancake, huh? Cute,” he said with a laugh, “What kinda’ pokemon is that?”

Gin didn’t wait for the answer. As soon as he noticed her out of the corner of his good eye, he snapped around to glare her down. His back went rigid as he tried to make himself look bigger, and his pectoral fins beat imperceptibly fast at his sides.

< I’m Gin, and you’re in my lake, > Gin shouted back. It was all the preamble he deigned to give before attacking, launching himself towards the Mantyke with a tiny, angry grunt. He let loose a torrent of bubbles, which shot just inches over the surface of the water. Some bubbles towards the side of the stream burst before they could even meet their target as Gin pushed the spray wide, hoping to catch Pancake in his attack. It left a frothy trail across the top of the water, rocking in the wake of the bubble attack -- and Gin was shoved backwards with the force of it, splashing down towards the center of the lake.

Mike cheered, pokedex half-forgotten. He pumped one fist up in the air, teeth bared as he shouted: “Yeah, Gin! That’s the way, startin’ us off strong."