Pokémon: Master of the Rain Team

Reiji figured that once he clocked out, the three Trainers tutoring Poliwhirl, Kingler, and Scyther would head home. He’d have them pass word through the Pokémon Center as well—anyone who wanted to take on Pelipper’s tutoring jobs could come by. That way, he wouldn’t have to manage everything himself.

With Pelipper’s roadmap settled, he closed his notebook and watched the floor: Poliwhirl’s group grinding away at their new moves, and Pelipper up ahead casually bullying challengers.

As for the Zapdos in his arms—same as ever. The premature hatch still hadn’t worn off. It looked less like a legendary bird and more like an ugly little chick.

[Zapdos (Premature Hatch)]

[Type: Electric + Flying]

[Gender: Male]

[Potential: 58.89%]

[Level: 3.11%]

[Ability: Pressure/0.53%][Hidden Ability: Static/0.53%]

[Moves: (Peck/1.21%)(Thunder Wave/0.61%)]

It had been ten days since it hatched early. Its level had only crawled up by two. Pressure hadn’t budged, but Static had inched forward a little—lately it had been eating Electric-type Pokéblocks.

Peck had risen too, mostly because it pecked at food like a real chick.

Thunder Wave had ticked up as well. That was probably the Pokéblocks again—Zapdos only ate one a day, then switched to regular food.

Shelmet had been eating Electric-type Pokéblocks too, using up the stash Reiji picked up back in Trovitopolis.

Overall, Zapdos wasn’t changing much yet. Reiji could only wait out the premature-hatch drag and see what it looked like afterward.

If it hadn’t hatched early, it still would’ve needed another ten days inside the egg. Then it would’ve gone through about half a month of infancy before proper training even made sense.

Now that it could walk around, curiosity had taken over. It watched Pelipper’s battles, and whenever Pelipper won, it would flap its half-bare wings in celebration.

When it got bored of that, it wandered over to watch Poliwhirl and the others practicing. If that bored it too, it hopped back into Reiji’s arms and nodded off. Once it was asleep, Reiji would return it to its Poké Ball so it could sleep properly.

People at the Gym couldn’t stop staring. They didn’t dare ask the acting Gym Leader what the ugly chick was, so the visiting Tutors, challengers, and spectators all turned to Senta instead.

After Senta told them it was just a premature shiny Spearow, the curiosity died on the spot.

If it had been a shiny Pidgey, they might’ve lingered. A shiny Spearow was still a shiny, sure—but it was Spearow. A common early-route bird wasn’t exactly worth gawking at.

…

The rest of the morning passed without incident.

At noon, Reiji didn’t go back to the cabin. He had the kitchen make lunch for the Trainers working tutoring jobs.

After lunch, the afternoon routine rolled right on. Pelipper stayed on the battlefield and ran the show—no one’s Pokémon could withstand its nonstop output.

Wing Attack and Water Gun rained down like Pelipper had an unlimited budget.

Meanwhile, Poliwhirl and the others kept working on their new moves, and real progress started showing.

Poliwhirl began with Focus Punch. It already had a foundation in Fighting-type moves from Drain Punch, so picking up another Fighting move came quickly.

Kingler started with High Horsepower, a move built around explosive burst in a charge. Kingler was strong to begin with, so it took to it fast.

Scyther began with Close Combat. With Brick Break already under its belt, stepping into another Fighting move wasn’t a problem.

None of the three Tutors needed to coordinate. They all made the same call: start with the move that was easiest to grasp, lock in early success, then push the next ones.

Before Reiji knew it, the afternoon was gone too. Quitting time hit, and he started closing up, turning away any last-minute challengers.

Even if someone showed up right then asking for a Gym battle, they were getting nothing. He was off the clock. That was the only rule that mattered.

The three Trainers tutoring Poliwhirl’s group said their goodbyes and headed out. Dinner wasn’t included, but they carried one message for him: Reiji wanted Trainers who could help Pelipper learn new moves.

If Senta were still around, Reiji wouldn’t have bothered locking the doors—it was Senta’s family place, after all. But with Senta gone, Reiji shut the Gym down and went to the kitchen to grab his dinner to-go.

That was when he ran into two familiar faces—and got invited to stay.

”Rai, you done for the day? Sit down and eat with us,” said the young man beside Cissy, smiling like he always did.

”No,” Reiji replied without hesitation.

The smile meant nothing. It could just as easily be another test. If Reiji accepted, it would look like he was trying to get close to Cissy—and that would earn him an enemy for free.

”The citrus harvest is on pause for now. We’re waiting for the next batch to ripen,” the young man went on, stepping closer. ”I’m leaving on the ship tomorrow. I won’t be back until next month. Since we ran into each other, have a drink with us. If you skip today, you’ll be waiting a long time.”

”No,” Reiji said again. ”I got attacked last night. My cabin took damage. I need to go back and patch it up.”

The young man’s words sounded warm, but the message underneath was sharp: the job might pause, but they’d return next month—and they could return whenever they wanted. Don’t get clever. You’re being watched.

And honestly, the ”citrus harvest” excuse was just that—an excuse. Citrus wasn’t a single fruit here. It was a whole category. On Mikan Island, they processed oranges into every kind of citrus canned goods, so anything in that family got lumped under ”citrus.”

Different varieties ripened in different seasons, but there was always something coming in. Every season, the island shipped citrus—fresh fruit, canned goods, juice, the works.

Even the byproducts mattered. Citrus peel could be processed into essential oils and additives like pectin. Dried peel could be used medicinally, steeped as tea, even cooked with.

That industry fed the island. Whole lives ran on it.

None of that was Reiji’s problem. He was just a Trainer. Let the League’s local officials lose sleep over the economy.

He’d brought up the attack for one reason: to drag last night into the open.

If they’d really ”canceled the job,” then why send killers after him? Was it deliberate, or was someone trying to lull him into lowering his guard?

”What?” The young man blurted it out—then clapped a hand over his mouth and lowered his voice. ”You were attacked? Come on. Let’s talk somewhere else.”

He led Reiji out through the kitchen’s back door, walking under Cissy’s puzzled stare, and brought him into the Gym’s rear courtyard.

”Rai… that’s on me,” the young man said, leaning in like they were sharing a secret. ”I went looking for those bounty hunters last night. They weren’t at the bar. My people couldn’t find them either. I didn’t think they’d go after you.”

”They’re dead,” Reiji said.

”Dead?” The young man’s eyes narrowed as he looked Reiji over again.

Those two were known for being vicious. Together, they could pressure even an Advanced-tier Trainer. Reiji killing them wasn’t luck. It was a statement.

Maybe that was the point: a quiet warning. If you try this again, weigh the cost.

”As long as you’re fine, that’s what matters,” the young man said, recovering fast. He raised a hand and patted Reiji’s shoulder, all smiles again. ”This is my mistake. Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it up to you.”

”No need,” Reiji said with a thin smile. ”The Water Stone was enough.”

It was polite talk. Reiji wasn’t about to act like he deserved more and paint himself as greedy.

The young man insisted anyway. ”No. This is on me. Compensation is only right.”

Reiji paused, then shrugged. ”Honestly? I don’t even know what to ask for.”

He might as well let the other guy decide. It was free stuff either way.

More importantly, refusing too hard sent the wrong signal. If Reiji looked like someone who couldn’t be approached, couldn’t be softened, couldn’t be dealt with at all, then the next move wouldn’t be negotiation—it would be elimination.

Taking the gift did something different. It said: you can pull me toward neutrality, but you can’t turn me into your man.

And that was the line Reiji wanted to draw.

He’d also handed them a handle to grab. He killed the bounty hunters. They were wanted criminals, sure, but in a League system, that kind of execution wasn’t his call to make.

Depending on who you were, it either mattered a lot—or didn’t matter at all.

If Reiji was just some ordinary League Trainer, anyone could squeeze him with it. If he were a Gym Leader, it was barely a footnote—and he could even collect a bounty afterward.

The young man understood the message now. Reiji had backing—the old fisherman behind the Gym—and Reiji wasn’t easy prey. The young man stopped pushing the idea of ”buying” him, took the leverage he’d been handed, and paid a price to keep things calm.

”I’ve got some Silver Powder,” the young man said, pulling out a small pouch and placing it in Reiji’s hand. ”If you coat Scyther’s scythes with it, its Bug-type moves will hit harder.”

Reiji accepted it and checked the item’s grade with his panel.

Elite tier. Not exactly generous—but still an item.

Between the mid-grade Water Stone from yesterday and this Elite-tier Silver Powder, Reiji was up around five million Pokédollars in value. In his old world, that was the kind of money you didn’t just trip over.

He’d gotten used to being rich. That was the real problem.

”Thanks,” Reiji said. ”If that’s it, I’m heading out.”

He’d made his point. He wasn’t joining anyone’s side. Keeping neutral was the most he’d offer—nothing more.

The young man watched Reiji leave with dinner in hand and climb onto Pelipper. His smile stayed in place, but the corners of his mouth slowly sank once Reiji was gone.

A mid-grade Water Stone and an Elite-tier Silver Powder bought him clarity: Reiji’s stance, and Reiji’s strength. Reiji was stronger than an average Advanced-tier Trainer.

The probing had been real. Every line had been bait. In the end, he confirmed what he wanted: Reiji wasn’t interested in Cissy. At least, not after he’d made his position clear.

And the two ”desperadoes”?

He’d sent them.

He never canceled anything. He pushed them to act fast—either move now or lose the rest of their pay. Now they were dead, and he didn’t owe a final payment. The money saved became ”compensation,” delivered as an apology gift to Reiji.

He’d also verified something with Cissy: Reiji had met her grandfather. That meant the connection was real, even if he didn’t know the details.

He didn’t need the details.

He just needed the shape of the board: Reiji belonged to the old fisherman’s side, not the League’s. Reiji was an orphan from nowhere special. And Reiji had a dangerous little secret hanging over him.

That was plenty.

As long as Reiji stayed neutral, he wouldn’t interfere—and if needed, he could even ”stay out of the way” in helpful places.

The young man really was leaving on the ship tomorrow. He would also leave one person behind to join the Gym staff. The reason didn’t need to be said out loud.

If Reiji behaved and stayed in his lane, there’d be no trouble.

If he didn’t…

Well. That could change fast.

The young man had originally wanted to bring Reiji into his circle, raise him into a trusted subordinate. When Team Rocket eventually clashed with the League and took control of the Orange Archipelago, he wanted Mikan Gym as his foothold.

He couldn’t understand why the old guard still hesitated—still talked about playing both sides, or even charging into the fight for the League. Kanto was already riddled with their people. Johto too. And those fossils still wanted to resist.

They’d cry eventually.

”Did he leave?” Cissy asked when the young man returned alone. She hadn’t heard a word. ”Why’d he go? How do you even know him?”

”He went home,” the young man said, rubbing his nose awkwardly. ”Wouldn’t stay for dinner. He’s… not very social.”

”Orphans are often like that,” Cissy said, shrugging. ”Not being social makes sense.”

She’d already checked his file in the police registry. Reiji really was an orphan.

She’d also seen something else: Reiji had a foster grandfather on paper, and that foster grandfather had a grandson—the kid they’d run into on that cruise ship.

Reiji’s household registration was tied under Shun’s grandfather—the old drunk—because Reiji needed a legal guardian to leave the orphanage system. The address on the documents was the old drunk’s bar by the docks. Reiji had a ”grandfather” in the paperwork, but he’d never actually acknowledged him.

”So he’s an orphan,” the young man murmured, as if it was new information.

It wasn’t. He’d already had people dig through Reiji’s background: public records, travel history, spending patterns, everything.

He knew Reiji came from Kinnow Island, spent time on Mandarin Island South, then moved north. He even tried to join Kumquat Gym—Gym Leader Luana hadn’t taken him. After that, he ended up at Mikan Gym.

That clean history was exactly why the young man had tried to buy him. No stains. No gangs. No obvious ties.

And Reiji was competent—good at raising Pokémon, good at training, good at commanding.

Someone like that being kept outside the League system for five years made no sense to him. The League’s choices were baffling.

As for whether Reiji was ”simple”?

Of course he wasn’t.

In the days Reiji had acted as Gym Leader, not a single challenger had earned a badge. That alone proved his strength.

And Reiji had said ”they’re dead” like he was talking about the weather. No stutter. No panic. No cracks.

For an orphan to carve his way to this point, he had to be sharp.

Reiji hadn’t fumbled last night’s assassination attempt either. He weighed the board, recognized who held the advantage—publicly and privately—and chose the move that kept him alive.

He brought up the old fisherman behind the Gym as his shield.

Every step was calculated.

The worst part was, the young man couldn’t even press him on the details of that ”deal.” It involved Cissy’s grandfather, and he didn’t have the standing to ask. That made it infuriating.

Still, for a Trainer like this—someone you couldn’t buy—keeping him close and keeping him neutral was the best outcome.

If Reiji ever stepped out of line, the young man could always report upward and let Team Rocket handle it.

And if Team Rocket could remove the old fisherman along with him?

Even better. That would make taking over Mikan Gym a whole lot easier.

Cissy’s parents were another angle. Nobody knew where they spent their time, and they didn’t care much about day-to-day Gym affairs. The young man had met them already, and they liked him.

If he won Cissy over, he could move in and take the nest.

And Senta—his ”future brother-in-law,” if things worked out—would be even easier. Raise him from childhood into a loyal pawn, then use him for the jobs that mattered.

Cissy had no idea any of it was happening.

She kept chatting with him about dinner, smiling and laughing.

She knew he was obsessed with her, sure—and she didn’t like him—but that was where her awareness ended.

She didn’t know what he was planning, or what Team Rocket was planning.

The old fisherman probably knew. People like that didn’t rush. They watched, they weighed, and they waited.

…

Reiji got back to his cabin.

He didn’t know exactly what the young man was setting up, but he could guess the broad strokes.

And it still didn’t matter.

Was he supposed to see a pretty girl and immediately start grovelling? Throw himself into someone else’s mess? Run to inform on people?

What kind of joke was that?

He was a grown man who’d already given up on hustling. He wasn’t about to dive into faction games for fun. He wanted a quiet life with his Pokémon. Let the outside world fight over itself.

If that lapdog hadn’t misunderstood him, Reiji wouldn’t even have moved.

As long as nobody forced him into a corner, he’d stay a decent person.

He didn’t want to burn everything down with them.

[End of chapter]

[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]

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