at the voice, noah leaps from the bleachers. his sneakers strike against the gym floor, every impact a tectonic event as he races to the entrance. he's dressed in his gym leader's uniform. still in his own particlar brand of athleisure, but with a proper pokeball holster and league insignia.

he looks the part. maybe. that's what he tells himself to shake the nerves.

"c'mon, man. you're supposed to be like, 'wow noah, this shit's wild!'" he grabs the one kyle had sipped from, its surface damp and cold. "anyway, the league told me they appreciated how cheap this was compared to the others."

his laugh echoes into the rafters before it's muted by frappe and froth. noah's pleased with his choice. he presses the icy surface of the cup to his face.

"thanks for coming, man. are you here to watch me trounce another challenger or what?"

kyle lopez

the purpose of visit and greeting: a deadly one-two. his cup is held to the side as kyle invades his space. dangerously, the container bends as his fingers press firm. the plastic dome pops loose.

noah swallows, adam's apple bobbing as he fastens the cover of his drink with a pop. he licks his lips and sucks in a big breath to compose himself.

"yeah? first in line for which one?" noah snaps back with a smirkl he's heated with anticipation and nerves— but this is his domain.

he reminds him of that. "you wish though. you might be an elite four, but... this is my home turf." noah looks to the caged ring and the spotlights scream at it with their hot focuses. "maybe i should take your spot after i win?"

noah snickers.

"which format you want?" he lists them afterward, taking another straw full of drink. he grabs the other's hand and pulls him toward the ring.

kyle lopez

"just the laundry?" noah chews on his straw as he speaks. already, the end of it noisily sucks air, rattling like plastic heatmor desperate for more. "we can up the ante some more, bro."

after climbing a small black staircase, noah unlocks the chain-link door. it swings open, the metal's shaking an impatient ruckus. noah unclips two pokeballs from his holster, their minimized shapes expanding as a machamp and hariyama appear on one side of the canvas floor.

"hey!"

he snaps the empty pokeballs back into their slots and sets his drink on the top step. hopping off the three-step staircase, noah uses the momentum to move in close to the elite four.

"this is a serious match, dude."

noah peers up at kyle and hugs him— if only to distract him as he steals kyle's straw with his teeth. a slurp announces a helping of filched frappe. he speaks, straw still pinched between his canines.

"training under you means i'm an expert kyle-wrecker." thick with confidence, noah winks. the sparkle in his eye is an unraveling ribbon as he withdraws. "so, you can have first move. if you want."

kyle lopez

the plastic lid and straw dangles from teeth. noah whines, the straw whistling like a bent, off-tune flute. in a stubborn display of arbitrary competition, he keeps the straw in his mouth too.

"yeah, do itphfh!" noah says— but he quickly follows up with proper instruction: "protect yourselves— and keep them in placemph!"

the canvas creaks as his machamp lunges in front of its partner. with all arms crossed, its robust body flexes defensively for a WIDE GUARD. as the AIR SLASH folds against the machamp, noah's hariyama clutches its knees and stomps. a thick wave of SURF surges from the pokemon's haunches and rushes towards kyle's pokemon, hoping to pin them against the chainlink fence.

the water splashes off the ring and wets their shoes. noah drops his straw and lid from his mouth.

"oh fuck, my shoes."

kyle lopez

noah stares at the ruined catastrophe splattered all over his shoes. while kyle's arms wrap around him, the gym leader keeps one eye on the cage. "i'm sorry for yours!" he shouts, "blow 'em back for space!"

the rattling of metal scales continues after noah's hariyama is struck. the thick-bodied wrestler is forced to the corner— small two-toed feet pressing deep into the canvas. as the machamp struggles to close the gap between itself and the shrieking type:null, the hariyama spins. its flat hands pick up WHIRLWINDS and deliver them toward kyle's pokemon.

should the type:null's METAL SOUND cease, noah's machamp would peel away one set of hands from its ears to charge forth in the gale. it'd attempt to THROAT CHOP the type:null with a deft strike from one of its many hands.

"if you let me win, i'll buy you a new frappe." noah says, pulling off his shoes. "and... stop distracting me with your arms."

kyle lopez

kyle's whispers snake into his ear, tickling its shell with flights of fancy. it causes the new gym leader to flinch- much like his machamp.

the gray hulk painfully absorbs much of the UPPERCUT with its musculature, but the machamp's defenses are preoccupied. blades of air strike the pokemon, and briefly, all four arms fall inert.

"ah!" a flushed noah wrestles against kyle's arms. "FORCE PALM them away!"

curving around, the hariyama palms the air with every step. relentless shockwaves emit from its broad hands and buffet against kyle's pokemon should they hit.

"cheater..." noah looks to him- but he quickly looks away under the 'guise of directing his pokemon. "but i'll think about it- and only if it's right after."

kyle lopez

"fong! cover cobra's ears in front!" noah's cries overlap kyle's. the hariyama acts quick.

the cacophony floods the room like television static. ringing fills his eardrums— but the roar of kyle's words can be felt. can be heard. the familiar frequency is tuned to at a constant.

"agh," noah grunts through clenched teeth. his expression betrays the frustration at the battlefield and the truth in kyle's words.

the hariyama lunges forth, large mitten hands cupping the machamp's small head. its large body is battered by the TRI-ATTACK and is rocked by the supersonic rumbling of CLANGING SCALES. after the attacks subside, the hariyama collapses face first.

"cobra! mega evolve now!" noah's mega bracelet glows— and as his machamp swells to its new forme. with glowing eyes, the machamp roars with its forearms covered in striated veins of gold. "THROAT CHOP the kommo-o and WIDE GUARD!"

the machamp charges and swings its hefty arm toward the dragon's throat, and attempts to protect itself.

a flushed noah, sweaty and excitable from the sudden surge of adrenaline, bats his fist against kyle's chest. "i'm happy your frappe spilled, man."

kyle lopez