Latest Update:COMPLETE
Summary: Brawly wanted to grow up and run the gym in Dewford Town, just like his father. That all changed when his rebellious streak reared it's head. Now he has memories from another universe, and a drive to do one thing: Conquer. SI/Brawly Not!Antagonist!SI
Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13541344/1/Conquer
Word count:166k
Chapters:37
Chapter 1: Act I: Chapter 1
What the fuck?
I sat up with a groan. My limbs felt like they were run through a meat grinder, and the sting of open wounds made themselves known all over my body. My legs straightened out in front of me, luckily they felt fine.
Am I in a cave? I thought as my eyes took in the cavern. A relatively smooth floor of rock extended as far as I could see. The wall rose around the cavern and met a twenty foot ceiling of more rock.
Grand stalactites and stalagmites met in some places to form beautiful natural pillars. I looked backwards to see the reason for my current beat up state. A broken up stalactite, that looked as if someone or something had been hurled through it. My hand instinctively reached to the pokeball on my waist.
Wait, pokeball?
That's when everything in my mind clicked and the memories fell in place. It wasn't a painful process, more like finding a place that you hadn't been to in a very long time, something nostalgic.
The shrunken pokeball on my waist contained my freshly captured makuhita, a pokemon native to Granite Cave. The same Granite Cave that was home to all kinds of dangerous pokemon, and a cave that went so deep that none of my ancestors have found the bottom yet. Rumors of brave trainers stumbling on onix dens and even a rhydon had reached Dewford Town many times.
My eyes found the mounds of rock once again, and this time I recognized the forms of geodude and golem's dead forms. A mother golem, and three of her children, bleeding out on the cavern floor.
What the fuck? I repeated in my head. I don't even know that much about Pokemon. Sure I played the games growing up, and watched like the first season of the cartoon but after that, nothing. I'm actually fucked.
A brief memory of a broken makuhita laying on the ground flashed in my brain and I shot to my feet.
It's in stasis right now, but I need to leave now to make sure the little guy makes it. I thought as I patted myself down.
After confirming that I had all of the possessions I dared to bring on my idiotic expedition, I bolted it in the direction I knew would lead to the entrance of the cave. Luckily my father, in this life, had kept me in fantastic shape and I kept up a fast pace.
Being the son of a fighting type gym leader has its perks. I thought as I literally saw the light at the end of the tunnel.
I got lucky that I hadn't had to go very far into the cave to find a pokemon. I literally made it two hundred yards before stumbling upon an enraged Hariyama going to town on the golem and her children of geodudes.
The memories of the fight, and memories of my past life clashed. I knew how the pokemon were depicted in my past life, in the games and anime. It was nothing like my now real life. Their cartoonish bodies were replaced with realistic depictions. The blood on my clothes, and running in the cavern made that obvious.
Even the Hariyama that I had barely caught a glimpse of wasn't shaped like a sumo wrestler, as the games would have you believe. No, it was a six foot seven mass of walking muscle. It's hands were oversized for it's yellow arms, and colored an off orange. I didn't see it in person, but the pictures on the pokenet reminded me that it would have five fingers, not three.
I shook my head, breaking myself out of my thoughts as I stopped at the cave entrance. There were signs up all over the place to warn travelers and trainers of the most commonly found pokemon in the area. I knew them by heart, having grown up here.
I turned right and headed for the brush that my bike would be hiding in. I scooped it up quickly and mounted it before peddling like a raging Gyrarados was hot on my trail.
The sun hadn't even thought of rising yet, so I flipped on the flashlight attached to the handlebars. I had gotten to the cave a little after midnight, right on schedule. I must have had one of the fastest legal captures ever.
My (new?) body had just turned sixteen, the minimum age for becoming a trainer. That was another difference from the games and anime. One had to be sixteen, not ten, to start their pokemon journey.
And it was something very few people did until a couple years after that. Normally reaching adulthood before beginning.
Although it was younger, my new body rivaled my old in physique, although more lean because of my fresh, young metabolism. Years of training kicked in as I focused on the path that would lead me back to town.
Even as the words left my lips, I broke out in a grin because of my successful night.
"Dad is gonna kill me."
I hopped off of my bike, without bothering to stop it or prop it up somewhere. It continued straight to ram into the side of the pokemon center. It might wake some of the traveling trainers up, but I didn't have the patience to care.
I burst into the center, slamming the door open. A chancey was sitting at the receptionist desk and I slowed down when I noticed that I had woken it up and she was pissed. A pink glow enveloped her arm that was outstretched towards me.
I skidded to a stop, and ducked in case she fired whatever it was she was preparing. I didn't need to, because I had grown up around this particular chancey my whole life, and she quickly recognized me.
If not, she could have killed me. Fairy type pokemon may be good for healing, but they're rising in popularity for their fighting skills also. I was once again reminded of the serious and real nature of the world I now lived in.
"Chancey, I have an injured pokemon." I said grabbing and enlarging the pokeball on my waist.
She let out a trill that sounded nothing like the pokespeak normally heard in the games or anime.
Will nothing be accurate? I couldn't help but wonder.
"Brawly?"
I turned to see the current pokemon center nurse for Dewford Town, and the rest of the island.
"Hey Tracey, I have a pokemon I need healed and registered." I told the woman who had been healing my father and his opponents pokemons for years. "Got to be close to critical condition."
Her eyes narrowed and I could see the accusation in them, although she held her tongue before extending her hand for the pokeball. I handed it over eagerly.
She summoned a device out of nowhere. I hadn't even seen it in her hands when she walked out in her pajamas. It was in the middle of the night after all.
She scanned the pokeball with the device. "License number?" Tracey asked me in a clipped tone.
"32689." I rattled off immediately.
I hope it works, considering it went active a few hours ago. I thought as she typed the numbers in.
A ding rang out, signifying a successful registration, and I let out the breath I had been holding. Tracey gave me a knowing look, a look that told me I had forgotten something. I remembered it just as she disappeared with my new pokemon.
"Shit."
There was no warning, he just appeared. My father was not a small man. He stood a good four inches above my six foot frame. And he was built like a fucking body builder.
His Gallade stood behind him, with a sad look on an eerily humanoid face, knowing that I was in trouble. It was obvious to me that he had locked on to me telepathically and then teleported.
"Hey pop." The words slipped out of my mouth before I could think about them. "I caught a…"
"I don't give a shit." Brody, my father, interrupted. "We're going home."
That's the last place I want to be right now. I thought to myself.
You're right about that. My father's Gallade said in my mind, reminding me of his psychic presence once again.
"Out." I said out loud, while looking at the powerful pokemon. I instantly felt bad. Gallade had always taken my side against my father growing up.
"He doesn't obey you." My father roared, his anger showing itself. "And you are in no position to demand anything."
"Sorry, I just didn't expect him in my head." I responded. My father was always connected with his Gallade.
It must have seemed odd, considering I had grown up with the powerful psychic in my mind all the time. With my otherworldly knowledge, that didn't seem wise anymore.
"I can't leave my new pokemon." I said gently, not wanting to make this any worse. "One of the best things you ever taught me, pop."
That statement got to him, because not only did I see understanding, but his rage flew through the roof.
My father was a controlled man, always has been. In his youth, he was a hot headed fighting trainer. Now he was a veteran fighter very much in control of himself at all times. Scars littered his frame from past battles in the war, and different leagues around the world. He was known.
I watched as he reeled his emotions in, it took a few moments. "Son…" He began but obviously thought better of whatever it was he was about to say.
"Tracey said you were covered in cuts when you got here." My father changed over to a different topic. "Give it to me straight."
"I went to Granite Cave, stumbled upon a Hariyama raging on a golem and her children. I got there too late to know for sure, but I think the makuhita I captured was the reason for the fight. I captured it because it was in danger." I told him truthfully, and quickly. I omitted my transmigration across the multiverse, obviously.
"Rapidash shit." Brody replied quickly. "You captured him because you wanted him, first and foremost. Not out of the kindness of your heart."
Fucking duh.
"Obviously, I did. I went there to prove to you that I can handle myself, and capture a pokemon the old way. It just so happens that I saved one's life too." I said.
My father was thrown off of his game for a moment. I never talked back to him, like ever. But my new personality, and eventful night have combined to produce the response.
It's best he gets used to this 'me'.
My father didn't respond for a long time, and I could tell a war was raging inside him. One side had to respect me for what I did, I knew it. The other side wanted to yell and scream about how reckless I was and could have died. I understood both points, and conceded them. It didn't change the facts.
"It's too late now, dad. I'm registered." I said, reminding him that it was irreversible without him pulling some serious strings. It would also hurt his reputation simultaneously. One didn't abandon pokemon, once you made the decision to capture them. The league was quick to fine, and even imprison for the act.
"And how do you plan to care for this pokemon? Or do you expect me to?" His words cut fast and cut deep.
"I have saved up a lot, from helping you at the gym. I can handle it." I replied with a statement that he knew as factual. He had control over my finances before today, so he knew I wasn't lying.
"And you always told me that I had till I was eighteen till I had to move out, sir." I added, hoping he would take pity on me. My mother would make him, but I didn't want to cause a rift.
"I meant adult." His counter was just as harsh as before.
I winced, knowing that I was legally an adult now. The old me didn't realize the responsibility he had forced upon us, but it was too late to back down now.
"If that's how it is, then I'll survive." I forced the words out.
"Just shut up for a fucking second." Brody said. "You'll take the open trainer spot at the gym. You will work your arceus-damned ass off or I will kick you the fuck out, even if it costs me a divorce. Do you understand me?"
I nodded my head at him, doing my best not to be intimidated. A part of me wanted to deny the special treatment from him. Trainers applied for a position at the gym to learn under him all the time, and he was giving it to me, because I was his son. I also knew that I was way under my head with this situation and needed to take advantage of the situation.
"Good." My father said to me and left me with some parting words just as his Gallade teleported them out of the pokecenter and to our house, presumably.
"You're telling your mother."
I thought my mother would take it easy on me, it turns out I was wrong.
"I can't believe you would do something so selfish and irresponsible. That is not the boy I raised!"
I had taken the tongue lashing with dignity earlier this morning, and now I walked towards the gym. It didn't take that long considering it was literally right beside our house. Sometimes, dad would even sleep in his office or one of the bunks he keeps for the gym trainers.
I entered the trainers door and my feet immediately took me to one of the training rooms I was so familiar with. It was the same room that my dad had trained me in hand to hand combat. Across my lower back, was a bowie knife that sat in a custom sheath. It said horizontal along my belt with the handle sticking out so that only my right hand could pull it.
I never wore it before today, even though I had trained with it extensively. Between rogue pokemon trainers, and wild pokemon, the death toll for starting trainers was high. I was going to cheat a little bit and get my makuhita trained up nice and strong before taking on the world, but still the weight of it on my back reassured me.
I quickly found the room I wanted and entered. Inside was a typical dojo. A mat covered most of the floors and there was various workout equipment all around the room. I steeled myself before reaching down to the pokeball on my belt.
I enlarged it and stared at it for a moment, before finally pushing the opening mechanism and pointing. A red beam extended from the pokeball and as soon as it hit the ground, it opened and shot a white light towards it. It was the most mesmerizing thing I had ever seen.
The white light coalesced into a form soon. Makuhita stood about four foot tall. The hair on its body was yellow, and covered most of its form. Blue hair formed around it's neck and fell into its chest, while also covering its hands. Its hands were very round and looked like it had some extra muscles and fat designed to absorb blows. It held a fair amount of baby fat on it. Although under it's tough skin, forming muscle peaked out. There was no bow on its head.
It's eyes snapped into focus and observed the room, then it noticed me. It charged immediately. Normally, it would be a smart idea to return it to the pokeball and start over until it calmed. I didn't do the smart idea. I knew there was a reason this pokemon was left for dead when I found it. It was the runt of the litter. I could work with that.
The pokemon approached, and there was no sign of him using any types of moves. Instead he was coming in with his fists, ready to fight the old fashioned way. I obliged him.
My foot met his hip, throwing him off balance. Then I pounced. Quickly we were on the floor, and I had my hands on him. Slowly but surely, I mauled him with wrestling. It didn't take me long to get behind him and get him in a choke hold. I applied pressure before letting off quickly.
"Calm down!" I commanded.
It's long been confirmed that all pokemon have basic empathic abilities. This is what allows pokemon to understand trainers right off the bat, even if they haven't trained together a lot. Plus, I didn't leave a lot of room for argument. I knew he got the message when the makuhita stopped squirming in my arms.
I let him go quickly, then backed away expecting another attack. My hand found his pokeball in case I needed to recall him. I showed my dominance, and I could do it the easy way from now on.
He didn't attack me, instead he laid there breathing hard before letting out a low, sad croon. I actually felt bad for the little guy. How would I feel if I got injured and my mom left me for dead only to be enslaved by another race?
"I captured you so that you wouldn't die." I said, starting off slow. The makuhita's intelligent, black eyes met mine unwavering. It frowned.
"I healed you and I want you to be my pokemon." I told the little guy staring in his eyes. He met my gaze and I could tell that it would take some doing to convince him. I took the anime route.
"And I want to train you to become strong. So strong that we can go back to that cave and wipe the floor with that hariyama." I tried.
It actually piqued his interest and I thanked the anime/game gods for the foreknowledge.
"Strong enough to take on the legendaries." I continued.
This was what finally convinced him. He actually gave me a nod in confirmation.
Just how smart are pokemon, really? I wondered. I chalked it up to the multiverse and decided to move on.
"Now, I can't call you makuhita, that's your race. I have another name in mind." I told him. His eyes lit up again and waited on me.
"Hashirama. Hashi for short." I grinned as the newly named Hashi nodded enthusiastically.
"Good! Now let me scan you real quick and change your name." I said.
I pulled out the pokegear that had been left on my bed when I finally got home from the pokemon center. I knew that my dad had gifted it to me, as congratulations and his own way of saying he's proud of me. It has a multitude of functions. The main ones being communication, access to the pokenet, and the reason for me bringing it out right now: a pokedex.
A red beam of light shot out from the pokegear and hit Hashi, center mass. It didn't take a long time for it to let out a loud 'ding', and retract the light.
I stared at the pokegear intently, waiting on it to finish processing the data. It didn't take long to bring up a full sheet of info for the pokemon.
"Wanna see it?" I asked Hashi.
Can I teach pokemon to read? I thought as I looked down at the display. Hashi waddled over to me and I made a mental note to train maneuverability the hardest at the beginning.
I shook my head and focused on the information in front of me.
'Makuhita,
The gutsy pokemon…'
I skimmed over the rest of the information looking for the important things. I already knew a lot about the pokemon, including the type effectiveness. What I was looking for was any abilities.
"Bingo! Thick fat huh? Isn't that what Venusaur gets when it mega evolves, making it an absolute tank? We can work with that." I muttered to myself, already planning and preparing for his tanky ability.
Could have been guts, which would have increased attack by a lot but he won't have any problem with offense if his mother is any indication. I thought as I skimmed more of the entry.
I kept looking for his move set, and eventually got all the way down the document before I realized that it wasn't available. Of course it would be, how would a computer know what moves a pokemon could do with a brief scan. But then again, how does a computer literally turn a pokemon into energy and store it in stasis.
This world doesn't make sense. My mind raged. Then again, I am thinking as if I'm still in my previous universe and haven't transmigrated to a fucking game.
I sighed, and resigned myself to figure out what attacks the little guy knew the old fashioned way. My new companion and pokemon looked up at me with intelligent but confused eyes.
"Mak?" Hashi said in a deep rumbling voice. Inwardly I realized that was one of the first things the pokemon had let slip from his voice box, and it vaguely sounded like the beginning of his species. Was that how people of this world named the pokemon? From what sounds they make? Then they try to translate it to the same language?
My head spun, as I considered all of the things I had to find out on my journey. I thought about what to do next, before remembering that I had all today and tomorrow to train or hang out before having to report for gym duty. I smiled as I looked at the training equipment all around me.
"No time like the present."
"Alright Hashi, you see that pokedoll?" I asked my starter as I pointed towards the machop doll ten feet away from me.
Hashirama nodded to me and stepped between me and the doll, protectively. Pride surged through me as I saw the pokemon get serious. It was kind of like having a child, or a little sibling.
It hasn't even been a full day, but I could get used to this. I thought while preparing myself for the training session.
"Let's see what moves you know." I mumbled to myself before barking out an order. "Attack."
Hashi obeyed and moved. He closed the distance way faster than expected, but my eyes caught the flaws of his movements. He kicked his legs out to the side, overcompensating for his chubby frame.
Must be held over from when he was a baby. I thought.
I expected him to throw a punch, or a kick or something. Something that would eventually blossom into a fighting move. I was severely disappointed.
Hashi launched himself forward, feet leaving the ground and leading with his shoulder. Had this been high school football, in Texas, then the tackle would have gotten some cheers. This was not high school football, and this damn sure wasn't Texas.
Hashi grabbed onto the machop doll and took it down with his momentum with the tackle. I could see how the move could be considered a good one to learn from, but this wouldn't do for my purposes. Nope, apparently this world wanted me to do everything the hard way.
Fuck it. I'm game. I decided, as I approached Hashirama, who was untangling himself from the machop doll.
I got a burst of inspiration from watching the interaction. Something that I knew would be revolutionary in pokemon battles.
"Good job, Hashi!" I told him as I held out my fist.
Hashi looked at my outstretched fist confused as to why it was in his face. My other hand grabbed his and put it into a fist, before bumping it with my own.
I stepped back and held my fist out again. I almost laughed when his face turned to determination. He touched our knuckles together quickly.
"Atta boy!" I exclaimed and his face brightened.
My theory was simple. Make Hashirama as confident as Mike Tyson, and train him up to be the pokemon equivalent. At least battling wise. Maybe not personality wise. And I was doing it the same way Iron Mike's trainer did, pumping up his ego by repeatedly telling him how good he did and is.
"Now that was a strong move, but let's practice it a little more." I said as I moved in front of him. I dropped down in a basic stance, ready to begin training.
"And add some stuff in between." I muttered, thinking about my master plan.
You see it was simple, if this world is anything like the games and anime, then people would focus on specific moves, and spam it. Rarely did people mix it up. So my plan went a little like this. Teach Hashi how to actually move properly in everything he does. A proper take down, not tackle. A technically sound punch and kick, for after the take down. Proceed to maul other beginning pokemon with ground and pound. It would be revolutionary, I thought maniacally.
"Pokemon world, meet Brazilian jiu jitsu."
Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13541344/1/Conquer