The walk from the plaza had taken us longer than 30 minutes, but the change in atmosphere was immediate. The deeper we pushed into the northern quarter, the more the streets bent toward a single focal point rising above the skyline: the Saffron Gym.

  From a distance, it looked like some great temple dropped in the middle of the city. Smooth white stone walls arched upward into a vast dome, its surface catching the sun like polished glass. Thin spires ringed the structure, each tipped with crystalline caps that shimmered faintly, almost as if alive. A soft hum prickled faintly at the edge of my hearing, and I realized the crystals weren't decoration they pulsed with psychic energy, feeding into whatever barrier surrounded the battlefield inside.

  "This is… bigger than I thought," I muttered, craning my neck to take in the whole dome.

  Mira gave a low whistle. "Imagine the maintenance bill just to keep this thing going."

  Rin was quieter, her eyes fixed on the spires."It feels… heavy," she murmured. "Like the air itself's being pressed down."

  I nodded. She wasn't wrong. The psychic hum wasn't overwhelming, it settled on the back of my mind like an extra weight, constant and unshakable. This wasn't like a casual battle in a clearing or a roadside scuffle with a passing trainer.

  This was a gym. A stage built for assessing strength.

  We climbed the steps, moving with the flow of the crowd. Trainers chatted loudly about the upcoming matches.

  At the top, massive bronze doors towered above us, engraved with an intricate design: the eye of a Kadabra, stylized flames and water around it, a spiral of energy connecting all.

  The sound from inside was muffled but unmistakable the low roar of a crowd reacting to a clash, the sharp echo of an attack landing. The match had already begun.

  We slipped past the threshold into a wide room lit by pale violet crystals, their glow bouncing off polished stone. The air here was cooler, heavier, the hum of psychic energy stronger. It pressed against my temples with each step, not painful, but insistent, like invisible fingers brushing the edges of thought.

  That was when I noticed her.

  A woman stood halfway down the hall, set apart from the trickle of spectators moving past. She couldn't have been much older than twenty-five.. Everything about her appearance was flawless long, ink-black hair that gleamed under the crystal light, skin smooth and pale as porcelain, lips painted a muted red that seemed out of place among the casual crowd. She wore a traditional indigo kimono patterned with faint blossoms, its folds tied neatly with a silken sash, every line of her posture elegant, deliberate.

  The kind of beauty that drew the eye without effort. Refined, immaculate, like the perfect image of a Kantonian beauty.

  But her expression ruined it.

  Her face carried a strange stillness, eyes dull, lips curved into the barest hint of a smile that didn't reach them. It wasn't quite a scowl, nor amusement, it was something harder to pin down. Something that felt… wrong. Detached. As though she were watching everyone and everything around her from a different place.

  The three of us slowed unconsciously as we neared. Mira was the first to break the silence. "Hey, uh—where do we get tickets?"

  The woman turned her head then, smoothly, as if Mira's words had given her permission to acknowledge us. Her gaze flicked over Rin and Mira, brief, dismissive. And then it landed on me.

  The smile deepened just slightly.

  I froze, stomach tightening. There was nothing overtly threatening in her posture, she didn't move closer, didn't even raise her voice. But the way her eyes lingered made my skin prickle. Like a predator sizing up prey, weighing whether the effort was worth it.

  "Go on," she said at last, voice calm, measured, almost sweet. She lifted one hand and gestured lazily toward the archway beyond her. "You can go in, the match has already started. You'll miss the good parts if you hesitate. These halls… they're built for young trainers anyway."

  The words should have been harmless. Encouraging, even. But the tone, the strange tilt of her smile as her eyes stayed fixed on me stripped them of comfort.

  "Uh… thanks," Mira said, already shifting her weight forward. Rin glanced at me, before following.

  I forced my feet to move, every instinct telling me not to linger under that gaze. As we passed her, the back of my neck burned, the weight of her stare clinging until the crowd ahead swallowed us.

  I let out a slow breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

  "Okay," Mira muttered under her breath, brows furrowed. "Was it just me, or was she… "

  "Weird," I finished quietly.

  "Creepy," Rin added, her tone soft but certain.

  We didn't look back..

  The tunnel opened into a vast arena, far grander than any battlefield I had seen before. The stands rose in clean tiers, circling the main stage in a wide oval. It wasn't packed, plenty of seats stood empty, but clusters of people leaned forward eagerly, eyes fixed on the clash below.

  The air buzzed with their chatter, sharp bursts of cheers rising and falling with every shift in momentum.

  The battlefield itself stretched broad and flat, the pale tiles gleaming under a lattice of overhead lights. What drew my attention first, though, wasn't the stage but the shimmering barrier that enclosed it.

  A faint dome of psychic energy, translucent and rippling like water, wrapped the battlefield in a protective shell. I caught the way stray sparks of force glanced harmlessly off its surface, scattering into faint motes of light before fading.

  A safety measure.

  Inside the barrier, the battle was already in full swing.

  A trainer commanded from one side of the field, his Beedrill darting through the air in vicious zigzags. The insect Pokémon's wings hummed with a high-pitched whine, its twin lances gleaming with a poisonous sheen.

  Opposite him stood the Gym Leader. He was an imposing figure, his presence commanding without needing to shout. Tall, with iron-grey hair tied back and sharp, disciplined posture, he carried himself with the weight of someone who had seen countless challengers rise and fall before him. His partner towered at his side: a Slowbro.

  The clash was brutal and elegant all at once.

  "Twinneedle!" the challenger barked. Beedrill lunged, its stingers crossing in a blur as it shot forward like a bolt of lightning.

  "Psychic." The Gym Leader's voice was calm, measured.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Slowbro raised a claw lazily, and suddenly the space before it twisted with invisible force. Beedrill's charge faltered midair, body seizing as if caught in a vice. The crowd gasped as the insect was hurled backward, slamming into the ground with a force that cracked tile.

  "Up! Don't give in!" the trainer cried.

  The Beedrill buzzed furiously, wings beating as it dragged itself upright, eyes blazing with stubborn will. Poison dripped from its stingers, sizzling faintly where it struck stone.

  "Poison Jab!"

  "Harden."

  Again, Beedrill streaked forward, venom flashing like liquid emerald on its lances. Slowbro's eyes glowed with a deep cerulean light, its body surrounded by a ripple of steel. The strike landed, but instead of piercing flesh, the stingers glanced off the shimmering aura, harmless as dull blades against stone.

  The Gym Leader lifted his hand slightly, as if pushing down an invisible weight. "Now. Surf."

  From nowhere, water burst into existence, a crashing wave that surged across the battlefield. It rose higher than Beedrill could fly, swallowing the insect whole in a torrent of spray and foam.

  The impact shook the barrier, shimmering violently before stabilizing again.

  The crowd roared.

  I realized I'd been leaning forward, fingers pressed white against the railing. My mind had locked onto the exchange, the rhythm of command and counter-command, the way each move carried intention beyond raw strength.

  "Arata."

  Rin's voice cut through the trance. I blinked, forcing my gaze from the battle. She jerked her chin toward a row of open benches higher in the stands. "Come on. Let's sit before someone else takes the spot."

  "Right." I followed, still glancing back at the Slowbro's calm, unyielding form as we made our way up into the viewing area.

  We found a spot halfway up the stands, the benches cool steel beneath us. The barrier below shimmered faintly, rippling as if alive, and I couldn't help but lean forward again once we settled in.

  By then, Beedrill was down. The insect lay sprawled against the tiles, stingers twitching weakly before going still. The referee's flag lifted, crisp and final, and the challenger grimaced as he recalled his partner.

  "Beedrill, return!" He swapped Poké Balls quickly, determination burning in his voice. "Go—Staryu!"

  The star-shaped Pokémon spun into the arena with a metallic cry, its core flashing a fierce crimson. It hit the ground in a whirl of sparks, already bracing for combat.

  "Water Gun!"

  The jet was sharp, cutting across the field like an arrow. Slowbro didn't even flinch.

  "Psychic."

  The stream bent midair, curling off-course before it could strike. Staryu whipped itself sideways, skating across the soaked tiles in rapid spins, trying to keep momentum. It was fast, sharper than Beedrill in a way, its body whipping around with dazzling control.

  The screen above flickered, text scrolling along the side. Gym Match — Official — 3v3 — 4th Badge Level.

  Fourth badge. That explained the weight of every move.

  Beside me, Rin and Mira had started talking, something about their travel plans tomorrow, Mira teasing Rin about bringing too many books. Their words reached my ears in pieces, but I didn't latch onto them. My eyes stayed on the field.

  Could I fight at this level?

  My gut answered before my pride could intervene. No. Not yet. My partners could hold their ground for a while, maybe even land a few blows, but victory here wouldn't come cleanly. It would be a scrape, a desperate fight rather than a measured one. Watching the exchange between trainer and Gym Leader hammered that truth in more firmly than any lecture could.

  Staryu spun again, launching a Swift, shards of golden stars flaring out, cutting through the psychic pressure. The stars struck home, forcing Slowbro to brace, its glow flickering as the attacks peppered its shell. The challenger pumped a fist, shouting encouragement.

  But the Gym Leader remained calm, voice steady as stone. "Disable."

  Staryu froze mid-spin, its core flickering uncertainly as the energy holding its attack simply… snuffed out. Slowbro lumbered forward, the battlefield itself seeming to tilt in its favor.

  The challenger fought on, cycling through his team with grit and frustration, but each clash ended the same: psychic calm grinding down furious energy. It was impressive to watch, humbling even.

  We stayed longer than I'd intended. Another challenger came and went, a young woman with a Fearow that screamed across the battlefield, wings a blur against the psychic barriers. Then a Graveler, hurling chunks of the arena floor itself like boulders. Each trainer fought hard, every match fierce, but the Gym Leader's composure never cracked.

  By the time we finally left, the sun had slipped low, gilding Saffron's towers in bronze. The plaza outside was still buzzing with chatter from spectators, though the psychic hum that lingered inside had faded to a dull echo behind us.

  I exhaled slowly. "That was… something."

  Mira gave a sharp nod, stretching her arms overhead. "Makes you wonder how many battles it takes to even get that calm. Guy didn't blink once."

  Rin only hummed in quiet agreement, her expression thoughtful.

  We paused just outside the Gym, the evening air cooler now, carrying the faint buzz of traffic from Saffron's main streets. The crowd behind us was already thinning, people spilling out in every direction.

  I shifted my bag higher on my shoulder. "I'll make my way to the station from here. Don't let me keep you both any longer."

  Mira stopped first. She grinned, then without hesitation, stepped forward and pulled me into a quick hug. Warm, firm, so sudden it caught me off guard. "Safe travels, alright? Don't go getting stomped by some rookie trainer on the road."

  I let out a breath of a laugh, still a little surprised. "I'll try not to."

  When she pulled back, her grin lingered, but her eyes softened just a fraction before she turned away.

  Rin, on the other hand, stood with arms crossed, a touch of hesitation in her posture. I glanced at her, forcing a small smile. "I'll still need your help with that article, you know. Don't think you're off the hook."

  Her shoulders eased, the corner of her mouth twitching upward, relief, maybe, behind the dry look she gave me. "Good. I'd hate to think you'd waste my time for nothing."

  We shared a look, brief but steady. Then I gave a nod, turned, and stepped into the flow of the evening crowd.