I followed them in.
The inside stretched far deeper than I expected. The polished floorboards creaked underfoot, and a faint scent of incense and sweat clung to the air. Despite the dojo vibes, there were still modern training gear spread about—free weights, sandbags, resistance cords—the works.
A handful of students were training with that gear, while others were instructing their Pokémon or battling each other.
But one trainer near the far back made me stop in my tracks.
A girl was trading blows… with a Hitmonchan.
Not training alongside it or inspecting its attacks. No, she was straight up dodging, weaving, and throwing hands with it like it was normal.
I blinked, rubbing my eyes.
Then turned and saw another pair—a boy and his Throh—locked in a fast-paced grappling match. He got swept onto his back, rolled, and sprang right back up.
My jaw slowly dropped.
"I know, I know," Brawly said, rubbing the back of his neck with a lopsided grin. "This place probably looks super low-tech compared to the whole high-speed vibe of the academy, huh? But c'mon, bro—there's somethin' kinda gnarly about it, right? That raw energy, that—"
"Man, I don't give a damn about the decor!" I cut in, gesturing towards them. "I'm just wondering what the hell I'm looking at. Are those two trying to get themselves killed?!"
He blinked, clearly thrown off, and then had the gall to burst out laughing.
He waved a hand, still chuckling. "My bad, I forget how bonkers we must look to someone as new to this stuff as you clearly are."
"New to what? Learning how to dodge a kick that can shatter boulders?"
Brawly smirked. "Yeah, I get it. It looks wild. But, dude—look a little closer."
I glanced back. The girl had taken a hit, but she rolled her body with it, readjusting herself and taking a stance. The Hitmonchan did the same. They circled, exchanged another flurry, before pausing once more.
"They're not fighting to win," Brawly explained. "They're sparring."
I gave him a flat look. "Yeah, I think I got that part already."
Brawly just grinned. "Nah, you don't get it. Not really."
I opened my mouth, but he waved a hand and stepped past me, motioning toward the floor.
"Freshies always think training's all about pumping up your Pokémon to max power. And hey, sometimes it is. But this right here?" He pointed toward the girl and her Hitmonchan. "It's for her, bro."
I frowned. "You mean she's using a Hitmonchan as a punching bag?"
He snorted. "Other way around. She's the one toughening up."
He gestured more broadly around the dojo.
"Training your 'mon is just part of the ride. But if you're ever out there in the field, and it's just you with no partner in sight? It's your own body that's gotta carry you. So we train for that. Reaction time, movement prediction, stress tolerance, general resilience—y'know, all the good stuff."
I watched as the girl ducked under a haymaker, skidded back, then re-engaged with surprising precision.
"But… they're Pokémon," I said slowly. "Even the weakest ones should hit harder than the strongest person."
"Dude," Brawly looked at me like I was stupid. "We have Aura. While ours are pretty unstable compared to a Pokémon's, it still counts for something."
I stayed silent, but Brawly wasn't done.
"Any trainer who wants to make it past a certain point has to train like this anyway. High-level trainers? They're not just average people shouting commands. The top guys—your upper-tier field operatives at Grade 5 and above—they're all built different."
He held up a hand, ticking off fingers.
"Grade 2 Pokémon? A serious trainer should be able to keep pace. Grade 3? That's what most top performers are aiming for. And the elite ones? The real monsters?"
He looked me straight in the eye.
"Those people can go toe-to-toe with Grade 4 Pokémon and win. Easily. It's only at Grade 5 where the gap between us is too wide to cross."
I stared back at the mats, watching a guy get thrown by a Throh… only to twist midair and land on his feet.
Sparring with Pokémon. The idea was so absurd I almost laughed. 'Who would even think of doing that?'
But, then again…
Didn't Korrina fight alongside her Lucario in X and Y?
And wasn't there that one animation where Bea was fighting with her Machamp on a mountain or something?
And now that I thought about it, Ash had been bodying wild Pokemon with whatever he could get his hands on since episode one.
Still… me fighting Zangoose? She'd just hatched and her claws were already as long as my palm. I'd have better luck getting in the ring with a pro boxer.
Brawly studied my face for a moment, then grinned.
"Still not sold, huh?" he said, stretching his arms back behind his head. "Totally fair, bro. Takes a sec for most folk to wrap their heads around it."
"Just… considering my options, that's all." I lied.
He laughed and clapped me on the back hard enough to rattle my spine. "No worries, dude! Just vibin' with the thought is a solid first step."
He gave the room a once-over, then turned back to me. "So, since you're here and all… anything specific you wanna jam on? Technique? Endurance? You lookin' to ride the waves of your potential or what?"
I blinked at him, giving a sideways look. 'Since when I was looking to train here?'
I'd only agreed to check the place out. When had I ever said I was staying?
Before I could say anything, Zangoose let out a low rrowl, pawing at the floor impatiently. Her claws scraped faintly against the floorboards, tail flicking side to side.
She looked up at me, eyes wide and expectant.
I sighed. "She's been itching to burn off some steam since we woke up this morning."
Brawly chuckled. "Haha, totally get it. So what's the move? You wanna warm her up with some drills, or go straight for the deep end?"
I hummed. "Well… I don't actually know what moves she knows yet, so I was just planning on getting her to show me everything she's got."
Zangoose perked up instantly at that, posture straightening.
Brawly nodded thoughtfully. "That sounds about right. You've gotta establish a baseline before you start training, after all."
He tapped his chin for a moment, then snapped his fingers. "Actually, I've got a better idea. Why don't we let her show you in a real match?"
I raised an eyebrow. "A real match? Against what—you've got, like, an automatic training dummy or something?"
"Nah, nothing fancy like that. We can just pit her against one of my Pokemon," Brawly said casually, like he was offering to loan me a pen.
I stared at him. "Uh… isn't that a little much? I mean, your Pokémon would wipe the floor with her. She was literally born yesterday."
Brawly waved a hand like it was nothing. "Relax. I'm not saying you toss her against one of my heavy hitters. It just so happens I've been training a baby Pokémon myself, is all. He's a bit ahead of your girl here, but I'll tell him to keep it mellow."
He crossed his arms and grinned. "Besides, it'll be good discipline training for mine."
Zangoose gave a soft churr, stepping a little closer to me.
I stayed quiet.
She was just a hatchling. What if she took a bad hit? What if she got clipped in the eye? Tore a tendon? Dislocated something? Hell, what if she panicked mid-fight and froze up—and then caught a clean shot to the ribs? Internal bleeding? Nerve damage?
I clenched my jaw.
'What kind of trainer lets their partner get crippled in their first ever fight?'
But then… I blinked.
For a moment, I'd forgotten the world I'd been transported to.
Even if something did happen—if she did get hurt, even seriously—it wasn't the end of the world. The Academy had not only healing machines that could heal broken bones in mere hours, but it also had emergency healing Pokemon on standby.
And all at the cost of one measly point.
This wasn't about recklessness. I was just being needlessly nervous.
Zangoose looked up at me, tail flicking, eager. Not worried at all. And with the way she carried herself, I could already tell: no amount of being tossed around would shake her resolve.
Were there even any downsides?
I crouched down beside her, lowering my voice. "Alright, listen. This is just a spar. In fact, it's barely that. Got it?"
She tilted her head slightly, blinking at me.
"You're not trying to win. Just show me what you've got. Any moves you know—use them. Doesn't matter if it's good or bad. And don't look to me for help either, I'm staying out of it. I want to see what you can do on your own."
She blinked once. Then gave a sharp nod, nearly bouncing on her paws.
Brawly clapped his hands. "Great! If everyone's fired up, then let's ride that wave!"
He turned and motioned for us to follow, leading the way toward one of the sparring areas. A couple of students off to the side glanced over, but none looked surprised.
I stepped up to the area as Zangoose stepped in the middle, tail twitching in anticipation. Brawly jogged over to the opposite end and popped a ball off his belt.
"Aight, little dude. You're up."
The Pokéball arced through the air and burst open in a flash of light—
—and a Heracross landed solidly on the mat with a low thud, wings giving a brief buzz before settling. Compact and powerful, he looked at Zangoose with a calm, unreadable expression. One foot slid back, stance lowering.
Brawly gave a quick nod toward him. "Hey—this isn't a battle, got it? Just a light spar. She's younger than you, so take it slow. Let her set the pace."
The Heracross didn't react much besides a slow blink and a shift of posture. Enough to show he'd heard.
Brawly stepped back, raising one hand between them.
"Alright then," he said, tone easy but clear. "Begin!"