A White Tomorrow [A Team Rocket Fanfiction]

Chapter 22

"Inkay, Psybeam!" In a little secluded area in the forest, James stepped forward and called out across the field to his Pokémon. For probably the hundredth time that day, Inkay spun in a little circle before initiating the move with almost perfect accuracy towards Gourgeist, who had seen better days to say the least.

Jessie moved her hand forward to gesture a countering attack but hesitated. Gourgeist was already worn out from getting hit several times already with no well-timed commands. It was flung back from the attack and hit Jessie's side and she stumbled sideways; fortunately she caught herself, but Gourgeist was knocked into the dirt that already had a trail from landing in the same place several times before. Inkay and James lowered their defenses and watched in concern as the two recovered themselves.

"Jess?" James ran to Inkay. "I think that's enough for right now, buddy, go eat and I'll call you back in a bit."

Inkay's tentacles drooped and the little squid looked as disappointed as James felt. Each day's practice battles felt worse than the last and there was nothing they could do about it.

As Inkay flew away, James walked over to Jessie who crossed her arms and stared at the field in front of her in frustration. Gourgeist looked okay, just a little beat up and tired, so James waved it off to follow Inkay. "We've been at this for several days. If you're going to use Gourgeist against a Physic/Dark-type your best bet is to go with-"

"A Grass or Normal-type move. I know," Jessie sighed loudly and stomped her foot on the floor. James cautiously shifted his feet back to save his toes. "I can't think of something quick enough! My head just isn't in the game."

James frowned and rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. "One of those off days?"

"More like an off week," Jessie grumbled, taking in the affection that made her feel so much better. Right then she almost called it off, that maybe she should sit it out of these contests for a while until she was better, but she couldn't. She had come so far already, she was doing so well. What kind of coordinator would she be if she just quit?

She pulled away from James and walked back to where she had been standing. "Okay. Let's try this again. I'm going to use Seviper."

James looked like he had expected it this time. He had the same tired look every time she said she was going to 'go practice,' or 'train for the next contest.' He didn't voice his thoughts, though, and Jessie didn't know if she would prefer him to or not.

He studied her face a moment longer before giving in with a sigh. On any other day Jessie would have gotten on his case for giving her an attitude but he lucked out this time. "I'll use Carnivine to go a little easier on you," James called out as he walked back to the other side. This time it was Jessie's turn to sigh, she didn't want him to go easy on her, for all she knew someone could send out a Moltres against her and she'd be toast. (Well she was battling James, after all. She knew what this Moltres was really like)

"Since it's a Grass-type..," James' persistent voice began as he moved his hand in a continuous motion for her to finish.

"I use a Poison-type move! Poison tail!" Jessie mockingly yelled out. As much as she was tired of this, he was too, they both laughed at that. She pulled another pokeball out and Seviper appeared a fourth into the field. The snake pokemon had the audacity to give her a petrified look once Carnivine was called out in front of him. Perhaps it already knew its fate based on the condition of Gourgeist and Frillish. Jessie looked back at her two other pokemon and Inkay to see that they didn't look any different.

***

She did do a little better. Small progress is better than no progress at all. She had won with Seviper, and as soon as Carnivine was called back into it's ball, Seviper quickly slithered away to join the rest of the battle-bruised pokemon. Fine, Jessie thought. Two could play at that game. She'd show her pokémon how wrong they were during tomorrow's contest. She looked at James, who had just shrugged at her before going over to treat their pokemon. She took this as a sign that she should spend the rest of her time resting until she had to get ready, so after exchanging a quick kiss on the cheek with James she picked up her things and headed back to where they had camped out for the past several days.

Surely all coordinators had their times where they were burned out- or in her case, lose the very much needed skill of focusing and stamina during a battle. Jessie refused to be like the rest of them, cause hey, third times the charm, right? She already won the last two, so the third was going to be just as good. Maybe even better.

Even then she couldn't help the anxious twinge in her gut. She didn't want to feel the humiliation and disappointment of losing again- nobody did. Especially since the majority of her opponents were a lot younger than her, ranging from just setting out on their Pokémon journeys to being close to her age. The younger kids also had more pokemon knowledge than she did. Losing was inevitable with five contests; she needed to be a god to win all five of those in a row but accepting that would only make her doubt herself more once she was on stage.

She momentarily forgot about her worries as she made it to the place they had set up their tent. She left the opening wide enough in her tent so she could still see the outside, just to make the inside of the it a little brighter. Jessie lied down on top of her sleeping bag and dragged her hands down her face to try to clear her foggy head. "Stupid, stupid, stupid... why's it so difficult to win a simple Pokémon battle?"

The main reason she used to fight regular Pokémon battles was that she had a motive. And usually a bad one. Battling against James, or even one of the twerps felt different than a contest battle. They definitely were different, even if it didn't make her case look any better.

Why did James of all people seem to have more experience than she did? She may be the hard-headed one but he was the one who managed to beat the twerps on several occasions when she couldn't. Even when they fought against each other in the Alola league he managed to beat her Wobbufett with Mareanie. She'd prove to him one day that she was the better of the two.

She flung her arms out beside her, accidentally knocking James' bag over and she heard something roll out. After a moment of ignoring her curiosity, she lazily opened her eyes to follow it before realizing it was a bottle cap.

Groaning in annoyance she picked it up and examined the peculiar item her husband was so fond of, before realizing this specific one was of some importance to her too. It was the rusty, scratched-up golden one with the 'R' on it. She smiled a little, remembering the story it brought up the last time they had seen it. It was crazy to think that this little piece of junk was as old as her, James, and Meowth's Team Rocket partnership. Maybe it'd last forever, or until they'd part. There wasn't anything that would separate any of them. Maybe death, 'until death do us apart.' She loved James too much to let anything get in between them. Especially the one thing that brought them together again that was now trying to pull them apart.

Stupid Team Rocket. Too many things were circling through her mind now. Jessie stuffed the bottle cap back into James' bag and finally gave her mind another rest.

That night, Jessie was sure she was calling out attacks in her sleep. As soon as she opened up her eyes the next morning, deep down she felt and knew that she was in no way going to do her best in the contest that morning. Once James got up he gave her an unreadable look to which she just smiled at to satisfy him until he left the tent. Then she allowed herself a moment to crumble before she had to go out too. No matter what there was definitely no going back.

She did her makeup, put her hair into her usual contest pigtails, changed into her performer dress, and forced herself to straighten up in front of everyone else as she led the way to the contest hall. Unbeknownst to her, towards the contest that would be her worst and last.