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This will be good for him, Larry tells himself. This is a promotion, not a punishment.
He’s not entirely sure he’s convinced himself.
He treks on to where Medali is visible in the distance. Geeta had thrust the position of Gym Leader upon him, citing something about his talent being too valuable to waste. Larry suspects that the real reason is that he’s been doing the bare minimum at his office job with the League and this is her retribution. After all, she’d mentioned that in addition to his Gym Leader duties, he’ll have to also keep an eye on Area Zero to make sure that no more Pokémon like the Quaking Earth Titan escape out of the crater. He doesn’t have any idea what that would involve, but it sounds like a lot of work.
Hearing a raised voice from somewhere nearby, he looks up and heads over to see what’s going on. It’s quite early in the morning—the sun is just barely peeking over the horizon.
He frowns at the commotion that becomes visible as he crests the hill. Taking out a Pokéball, he summons Staraptor and directs him. “You know what to do.” Staraptor caws in acknowledgement and flies down the road, chasing off a group of Greedents pestering an elderly lady holding a large basket.
“Thank you very much,” she says gratefully as he comes closer. “I’m delivering some fresh berry pies to my grandson, but it seems like the smell attracted the Greedents.”
Larry returns Staraptor to his ball and nods at her. “Of course, ma’am.”
“Oh my, no need for such formality. Everyone around here calls me Gran-Gran,” she chuckles at him. “What’s your name, dear?”
“I’m Larry.”
“Oh, like our new Gym Leader!” she exclaims.
“Yes, exactly like that,” he says, wondering what she’s getting at.
“I hear he’s supposed to arrive today. I wonder what he’s up to?” she muses.
“This,” Larry says.
She laughs. “Very kind of you to entertain my ramblings.”
Larry doesn’t quite understand what she means by that, but when she makes a move to continue down the road, he offers, “I can help carry that to your grandson’s home, if you like.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to trouble you. My grandson lives on the far end of Medali.”
He explains, “I just moved in, so I was planning on walking around town anyways.”
“Oh! In that case, I’d be happy to show you around.” Gran-Gran beams at him.
He takes the basket and together they walk to Medali. Along the way, Gran-Gran talks about the city and all of its history and quirks. Larry listens attentively. If he’s going to be the new Gym Leader here, he needs to get to know the city and its citizens.
When they get into town, it becomes clear to Larry that Gran-Gran is known by practically everyone. One by one, Gran-Gran introduces him as “Larry, the gentleman who was kind enough to help me out of a tight spot today,” usually followed up with a “He’s new to town, and he’s a very nice man, so please be on your best behavior!”
Unsure what to do, Larry simply smiles and says hello. This seems to have the desired effect, as most people smile back and welcome him to Medali.
And that’s how Larry ends up meeting most of Medali’s residents on his first day, before even making it to his Gym.
“So where are you from?” someone asks him curiously. Larry can’t quite remember his name. Rai, or Tai, or something like that. He’s met too many people today to keep track.
“I was living in the South Province, but I’m from Sinnoh originally,” Larry answers. He thinks back to his younger years nostalgically. Cynthia had offered him a Gym in Sinnoh, but he’d turned it down, wanting to do something with his life beyond Pokémon battling. And now here he is, still in the exact same position.
The punishment of Sisyphus, or something like that. How naive he’d been back then.
He looks around at all the people sitting at the table with him, a little intimidated. Gran-Gran had insisted on buying him lunch in return for his help in the morning, and various others tagged along, eager to see the new guy who had earned the endorsement of Gran-Gran. It had ended up being quite a large group. Apparently Medali doesn’t get many newcomers because he seems to be the talk of the town.
He takes a bite of his onigiri. “This is delicious. My compliments to the chef.”
“Thanks!” Shay says, leaning over the counter and smiling. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Have some more, Larry.” Gran-Gran pushes another plate towards him. “You’re far too skinny.”
“Are you moving here for work?” asks a girl with blue and purple highlights in her hair (Annie? Amy? Something that starts A, Larry recalls).
Larry had thought that would be obvious given that he was the new Gym Leader, but he responds regardless. “Yes, I just got promoted.” Unfortunately, he still has to work his office job. Even Gym Leaders don’t earn enough money to make a living on battling alone.
A boy asks eagerly, “Are you good at Pokémon battling?” Larry recognizes him as Gale, a kid he’d met earlier in the morning. After delivering the basket, he’d somehow ended up helping him with a school project. From Gale’s gear, Larry infers that he’s a trainer. He must be curious to see how challenging the new Gym Leader would be.
“I’m decent, I suppose.” At the very least, he was good enough that Geeta had decided that he was a sufficient replacement for the Medali Gym Leader.
“Would you mind battling sometime?” Gale requests enthusiastically. “My team’s pretty new, I’m trying to get them more experience in trainer battles.”
Gran-Gran chuckles. “Gale’s always asking everyone for battles. You seem like a busy man, don’t feel pressured to say yes.”
“It’s no problem, I’d be happy to offer some tips,” Larry says. It’s of course his duty as a Gym Leader to help nurture young talent, but beyond that, it’s just nice to see kids excited about Pokémon battling. Larry himself isn’t particularly passionate about it, unlike the other Gym Leaders—he likes it well enough, but he mostly agreed to the job because it would provide a much-needed break from the monotony of his desk work. “Just give me a bit to settle in first.”
Gale grins at him. “Thanks, Mr. Larry!”
Larry checks his watch and rises from his chair. “Well, it was very nice meeting you all, but I should head off to work now. Have to ensure my Gym is in good shape before I start accepting challengers, you see.” He waves goodbye and sets off.
Behind him, there’s a moment of silence. Then:
“Your Gym? Wait a second…That’s the new Gym Leader???”
Hassel comes by later that week, presumably to check on how he’s doing as the new Gym Leader. “Seems like everything’s in order,” he says approvingly after having taken a look around.
Larry nods. “Yes, things have been running smoothly.” Staraptor, perched on his shoulder, preens his hair, and Larry absently strokes his feathers.
“I did hear that you didn’t tell anyone you were the Gym Leader at first, though.” Hassel fixes him with a look.
Larry groans internally. People have been teasing him about that all week, and at this point, he thinks he might never live it down. He’d already received a scolding from Gran-Gran—first, for not telling her he was the Gym Leader (You shouldn’t have let me drag you around town all day, you’ve got more important things to do), and second, for not taking care of his health (What do you mean, you work two jobs? You need to get more sleep, you look so tired all the time). And just a few days ago, he’d received a collective gift from the community with a note that said Sorry we didn’t realize you were the Gym Leader! “It wasn’t intentional, I just assumed they already knew.”
Hassel looks at him for a long moment. “You do know that people expect Gym Leaders to look a certain way?”
“Yes.”
“And you are, of course, aware of how…plain you appear?” Hassel doesn’t say it like an insult, simply as a fact.
“Very.” Larry frowns. “Where are you going with this?”
“Nowhere,” Hassel says decisively. “Just checking.” He doesn’t say anything else, though a corner of his mouth quirks up.
Larry decides it’s not worth the effort to parse out whatever Hassel is trying to say. Staraptor seems to agree, pecking at Hassel reproachfully before flying away in a huff.
Larry always feels bad when he defeats younger trainers during Gym challenges. The most recent challenger, a child around eleven years old, looks like she’s about to start crying. Maybe he should have eased off a little.
He’s not really sure how to comfort a crying child, but he does his best. He kneels down so that they’re almost the same height. “Hey, don’t cry. You did a good job. Not many trainers made it as far as you did.”
She peers at him with large eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” It’s true. She’s quite good for her age, and it’s her first time through the Gym circuit, too. “You know, when I was young, I didn’t pass all the Gyms on my first try either. Not the second, either. It must have taken me dozens of times.” Of course, that had been the Sinnoh Gyms, not the Paldean ones.
“But you’re so good!” she exclaims. Larry’s glad to see that her tears have disappeared.
“I wasn’t always. Everyone has to start from somewhere. It takes a lot of practice and perseverance, but you’ll get there eventually. You’ll probably be even better than me, someday.” Larry smiles at her. “So just keep working hard and trying your best, okay?”
She nods determinedly. “I will, Mr. Larry! I’ll do my best!”
He walks her over to the Pokécenter, and he’s startled when she gives him a quick hug before dashing off. He watches her go. He hadn’t lied, exactly, with his advice. It’s just that following his passions hadn’t worked out for him, in the end. He hopes that she can do what he couldn’t.
He’s passing by Shay’s restaurant when he sees a notice posted on the front door. Reading it, he frowns and enters the restaurant.
“Larry! Good to see you,” Shay calls out. “Your usual?”
“Yes, please.” Larry slides into a seat at the counter. He’s become a regular here ever since he arrived; it’s one of his favorite restaurants in Medali.
It’s not long before Shay brings out his signature medium extra crispy onigiri with lemon. He nods appreciatively as he eats. “Excellent as usual.”
“You compliment me too much, Larry,” Shay teases.
He doesn’t want to bring down the mood but he has to ask. “I saw the sign outside.” Larry gestures towards the door. “Are you really shutting down? Isn’t this place really important to everyone?” From what he’s gathered, the restaurant seems to be a community hotspot where the locals congregate.
Shay’s expression falls, and she sighs. “I don’t have a choice. I’m being forced to sell the land to a developer.”
Larry taps his finger on the counter, thinking. “I’ll see what I can do.” As the Gym Leader of Medali, surely he has some sway in this.
The next time he enters the restaurant, Shay drops what she’s doing to run over to him and wrap him in a hug. “You did it!”
The place is busy at this time of day; a lot of the regulars come in at this hour. Larry feels his face heat up at all the eyes on them, and he coughs awkwardly.
Shay finally releases him. “How did you convince them to keep the restaurant open?”
“Despite what everyone seems to think, I am the Gym Leader, you know.” There’s a scattering of laughter across the restaurant. “I pulled some strings,” Larry shrugs. It had probably been the first time that paperwork was actually useful, and if there’s anything Larry is good at, it’s paperwork.
“Thank you, Larry, I owe you one. You didn’t have to do that,” she says.
“Of course I did. If it’s important to the people of Medali, it’s important to me,” Larry says, completely unaware that he’s permanently cementing his position as The Best Gym Leader among everyone present. “And, well, where would I go if my favorite restaurant shuts down?”
She laughs warmly, eyes shining. “To celebrate, onigiri for everyone, on the house!” she declares. The announcement is met with a loud cheer.
Larry drops into his preferred seat and Tai leans over to say, “I heard that you called this place ‘the treasure of Medali’ in your report.”
Larry flushes. “Where did you hear that?”
“I have my sources,” Tai says mysteriously.
Larry is prevented from using more extreme methods to interrogate him when Shay, having overheard, says, “You know, that reminds me, I’ve been thinking about renovating this place. I might rename it while I’m at it.”
“What kind of renovations?” Tai asks curiously.
“Oh, you know, to revamp the design and have it accommodate more people. Medali is really starting to grow,” Shay says. She turns to Larry. “If you’re willing, I was also thinking that we could put your Gym arena here. I know you don’t like your current one.”
“Here?” Larry repeats, dumbfounded. He doesn’t know how she found out how much he hates the placement of his arena just outside of town. He’d much prefer it to be someplace comfortable. “You would be okay with that?”
“Sure! I think it’d be fun! Would help attract more customers, too. We can have it double as a seating area when it’s not needed.”
“Okay. Yes. That would be great,” Larry agrees dazedly. “Thank you.”
Tai asks Shay, “You have any ideas for the new name?”
She smiles. “In honor of Larry’s heroic, life-saving paperwork,” she says (now that’s an oxymoron if Larry’s ever heard one), “what do you think of ‘Treasure Eatery?’”
Larry’s treating his Pokémon for a battle well fought when Geeta appears behind his shoulder. “You need to stop it.”
“Stop what?” Larry doesn’t look at her and continues to break apart sandwiches for his Pokémon. They’d fought hard against the last Gym challenger; they deserve the reward. He’s not going to let anyone, even Geeta, interrupt him.
“You know what I’m talking about,” she says, moving until she’s in his line of sight.
“I don’t,” he says, genuinely puzzled. He thought he’d been performing adequately as the new Gym Leader.
“Larry, you haven’t let a single trainer pass your Gym in the last four months.” There’s a note of exasperation in her tone.
He shrugs and feeds Dudunsparce another piece. “There hasn’t been anyone good enough to earn the badge,” he says plainly. He’s been using his fourth-best team composition of Normal types for his Gym battles—he’d thought that would be an appropriate level of challenge, especially since he’s allowed only three Pokémon on his team, but apparently not.
Geeta sighs. “Larry.” And oh—there it is. That note of exasperation has evolved into a full-blown frown of disapproval. By now, he’s catalogued all of Geeta’s twenty-seven expressions of displeasure. They’re usually directed at him more often than not, though half the time he’s not sure why. “Just tone it down, please.”
“Fine,” he acquiesces. Normally he wouldn’t care all that much, but. Well. She is his boss. He’ll switch to his eighth-best team, he supposes. Hopefully that will be enough to pacify Geeta.
His Komala, having been attached to his leg for his midday nap, cracks one eye open and lets out a questioning mrrp? Larry pats his head and assures him, “Don’t worry, you can continue battling.”
Satisfied, Geeta switches tracks. “Besides that, I’ve heard good things about you. The people here seem to like you very much.”
“Do they?” Once again, Larry is surprised. This is the first he’s heard of it. The Medali residents have certainly been friendly with him, particularly those who frequent the Treasure Eatery, but he’d assumed that it was simply the usual politeness directed at Gym Leaders. Though he has noticed that ever since he’d moved to the arena at the Treasure Eatery, he’s had a large crowd cheering him on during battles.
Geeta scrutinizes him. After a moment, she nods. “You’re doing a good job here. Keep it up.”
Larry is too astonished by her words (a positive performance review, for once!) to respond before she strides off.
Maybe he should ask for a raise.
He’s having lunch in the Treasure Eatery, as usual, along with all the regulars. The others are having a lively conversation, but Larry stopped paying attention long ago. He doesn’t usually say much, anyways. He likes to listen in sometimes, but he’s far too tired today. He’d had an unusually high number of challengers earlier that morning, not to mention the stacks of paperwork he had to wade through.
He’s startled out of his sluggishness when Gran-Gran addresses him, “Larry, dear, why don’t you have a title?”
He stares. Everyone’s looking at him, but he has no idea what they’re talking about. “What?”
“You know, a Gym Leader title,” Gale says. “Like how Iono is the Supercharged Streamer. Or Kofu’s the Surging Chef. Seems like everyone just calls you Larry, or Mr. Larry if they’re feeling formal.”
“Oh,” Larry says. Geeta had asked him for a title when he became a Gym Leader, but he’d never ended up submitting one. He’s fairly sure the paperwork is still buried on his desk somewhere. “I never thought of one. I’m pretty normal.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a title! Come on, let’s think of something,” Annie says.
Larry comes up blank. “I’m just a businessman. I don’t do anything interesting.”
“Well, a businessman is a good start,” Gran-Gran encourages. “What adjective describes you best?”
He thinks for a moment. “The Boring Businessman,” he tries.
There’s a general murmur of displeasure. “Just because you’re normal doesn’t mean you’re boring,” Annie argues. “If anything, it makes you more relatable.”
“Yes, I think we should focus more on that aspect.” Gran-Gran ponders for a moment. “Maybe we should go with Everyman instead of Businessman.”
“Ooh, the Relatable Everyman?” Gale suggests.
“That doesn’t alliterate, you fool,” Tai admonishes him.
“It doesn’t have to alliterate. Ryme’s known as the MC of RIP,” Gale sulks, though he looks suitably chastised.
The discussion persists without needing Larry’s input as ideas are thrown out one by one. “The Efficient Everyman? The Easygoing Everyman? The Earnest Everyman?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. None of these feel like they fit.” Annie frowns in thought.
“It’s all right, I don’t need a title,” Larry says awkwardly. The attention makes him uncomfortable.
Gran-Gran pats his hand. “It’ll be good for you, Larry.”
Having been quiet up until now, it’s met with some surprise when Shay speaks up.“The Exceptional Everyman,” she says firmly, immediately returning her attention to preparing their orders as if convinced that no more debate is needed.
As it turns out, she’s right. Everyone exchanges glances and nods in agreement. “Perfect,” declares Tai.
“This is really not necessary,” Larry mutters, embarrassed. “I’m not going to use it.”
“Well, think about it, at least!” Annie says brightly.
Finally, to Larry’s relief, the conversation finally moves on to a different topic. He appreciates the thought, but he neither needs nor wants a title. Truly. He dismisses the thought out of his mind, already focusing on the mountain of work he needs to get done today.
But later, when he’s sitting at his desk once more, he finds himself digging out the documents that Geeta had given him months ago, and he looks at it for a long time, considering.
“So,” Katy says, the next time he sees her. “I hear people are calling you the Exceptional Everyman now. Finally submitted your title to Geeta, did you?”
Larry pauses from where he’s looking at the pastries at Patisserie Soapberry. “People were pestering me about it,” he explains, not making eye contact. He’s still self-conscious about it. “I didn’t come up with it,” he feels the need to add.
Katy smiles at him, wrapping up the lemon meringue tart he’s picked out. “Well, I like it. It suits you.”
Strangely, that makes him relax a little. “Ah—thank you,” he says, ducking his head and taking his pastry. He books it out of the shop before she can say anything else.
Well, he supposes, there’s no changing it now.
Lately, Medali has been abuzz with gossip. Several Elite Four positions have become vacant, and it’s become the talk of the town as people discuss who might be chosen next. Larry doesn’t pay much attention to it. His Gym has seen more challengers as trainers attempt to prove their worthiness for the Elite Four, but beyond that, he isn’t particularly interested in who is selected.
Well, not until Geeta summons him to her office to discuss “important matters.” Larry resigns himself to another boring meeting which could have been condensed into an email. But then she drops the bombshell: “I’m appointing you as an Elite Four.”
“I didn’t apply for the job,” Larry says slowly, confused. He has no desire for the promotion. He’s content where he is in Medali, with the Treasure Eatery and people who don’t bother him unnecessarily.
“This past week, the League received hundreds of messages nominating you for the spot, and you’re more than qualified enough, so the position is yours. It seems you’ve made quite a name for yourself in Paldea.”
Larry blinks. She must be exaggerating in order to get him to take the job. He’s not that good at battling. He opens his mouth to protest, but she interrupts heedlessly, “There is one problem, however. The citizens of Medali are quite adamant that you stay as their Gym Leader.” She raises an eyebrow. “You’re very popular there.”
“They’re just used to me, that’s all. They don’t like change.” Much like himself, he supposes. “So there’s no need for a promotion, then?” he asks hopefully.
“Actually, I was thinking you could continue as a Gym Leader in addition to taking on Elite Four responsibilities. I’m sure the extra work will be no issue for you.” Geeta peers at him from behind a curtain of her long hair. “I’ll cut back on your hours at the office to make up for it.”
“Ah,” Larry says weakly. He wants to reject the offer, but he gets the feeling he doesn’t have a choice in this. “That’s quite…unorthodox.”
“It will certainly be a unique situation, but if anyone can handle it, it’s you,” she encourages. “I’m afraid I can’t allow you to use Normal types again, so you’ll have to pick another. If you don’t have one in mind already, I recommend Flying.” He nods along dully, accepting his fate. He can make Flying types work, he’ll be able to use Staraptor in both teams. Geeta goes on, “You’re restricted to five Pokémon on your Elite Four team, and you’ll be the third member, so just before Hassel. The first two positions haven’t been filled yet, but we have many strong applicants, so it’s only a matter of time…”
Geeta continues talking, but Larry tunes her out. He’s already imagining the amount of overtime he’ll have to put in to make this work.
“Okay, I think we’ll call it there. Good job today, team,” Larry says. He’s training his new Flying type team in the Elite Four arena to prepare them for the environment they’ll be battling in. It’s only been a week, but he’s proud of how much progress they’ve made. “We’ll take tomorrow off so you can rest up.”
He yawns and rubs at his eyes. Ever since Geeta had informed him that he needed to put together a Flying type team, he’s been spending hours every day studying how to raise and train Flying type Pokémon. Even before this, he hadn’t been getting enough sleep, but it’s even worse now.
Oricorio hops onto his shoulder and nuzzles his cheek before returning to her Pokéball. The others follow suit, except for Altaria and Staraptor. “What is it?” he asks, a little concerned. “Is something wrong?”
Staraptor chirps insistently. “Oh,” he says. “No, I have to work tomorrow too.” He wishes he could take it easy, but unlike his Pokémon, he has another two jobs to attend to.
Altaria makes a displeased sound. “What, now? This is hardly the ideal place for a nap.”
Staraptor seems to disagree, flapping at him hard enough that Larry actually falls over. Altaria catches him with her fluffy wings and refuses to let him up.
Larry suddenly realizes where this is going. “No,” he says sternly. He is not going to fall asleep in the Elite Four arena. It would be highly unprofessional, not to mention mortifying.
His Altaria starts humming. To his horror, he recognizes the lullaby. “That’s cheating,” he protests, but he’s already starting to feel sleepy. He never should have taught her the move Sing. Staraptor caws in satisfaction and returns to his ball, while Altaria curls up around him as a pillow. “No more sandwiches for either of you,” he reprimands, but it’s a half-hearted mumble, the words smeared together with sleep. He’s having trouble keeping his eyes open.
It doesn’t take long before he’s completely, deeply asleep.
When he wakes, the lights are dimmed and there’s a blanket wrapped around him. He stands up and stretches, working out the kinks in his neck. He actually feels refreshed and energized for once.
That doesn’t mean he’s going to let his Pokémon get away scot-free though. “You know you’re in hot water, right?” he says to Altaria, who coos sadly. He sighs and gestures her over. “All right, let’s get out of here.”
With Altaria draped around his neck like a fluffy scarf, he picks up the blanket and heads for the door. He’d been hoping that no one would come in while he was asleep, but the blanket indicates otherwise. Now he’s just praying that whoever it was hasn’t told Geeta.
It’s only Rika in the lobby, thankfully. They’ve been casual acquaintances for years, crossing paths through their respective jobs with the League, but now that they’re both Elite Four members, he’s been seeing a lot more of her lately.
Rika glances up as he enters. “Oh, you’re up. Slept well?”
Well, that answered his question. “Yes,” he says, returning the blanket to her. “Thank you for this. Apologies for appropriating the arena like that, my Pokémon wouldn’t take no for an answer. It won’t happen again.” He scratches his head awkwardly.
“Don’t worry about it, you seemed like you needed it. Honestly, if your Pokémon hadn’t forced you to take a break for once in your life, I would have. You’ve been working yourself to the bone recently,” Rika says, looking at him keenly. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
“Um,” Larry says, uncertain how to respond to the sincerity in her tone. He’s not used to it.
Rika laughs. “Go on, get out of here and go home,” she says, practically shooing him out of the building. She winks at him, says “I promise I won’t tell Geeta,” and shuts the door in his face.
Larry just stands there for a moment and stares at the closed door, bewildered. Altaria raises her head and trills, and he can hear the I told you so. “Yes, all right, I get it,” he says crossly, starting down the grassy slope.
It’s not long before Larry’s dragged into an outing with Rika, Poppy, and Hassel. He hadn’t protested—he’d been expecting it, even.
Corporate team building. Larry knows how it goes.
“Do you mind if we stop here for a bit?” Hassel asks as they pass by a bazaar. “It’s almost Brassius’s birthday soon, I want to see if there’s anything here he’d like.”
“Sure, go for it,” Rika says.
“My birthday is in a month,” Poppy announces. “I’m turning eight!”
“Is that so, kiddo?” Larry says. “We’ll have to celebrate.”
Poppy inquires, “What about you, Mr. Larry? When’s your birthday?”
“Ah—I’m afraid I don’t remember. Let me check my calendar.” He digs out his Rotom phone.
“You don’t remember your own birthday?” Hassel says, scandalized. “Honestly, Larry.”
Larry shrugs. “I don’t really care about it.” All it marks is another year of being stuck in his depressing office job, anyways. Most of the time he forgets about it, though not so much recently. Once Shay had forced the date out of him, and she and Gran-Gran and the others have been throwing him a low-key celebration every year in the form of a nice dinner.
“Oh, give it here.” Rika snatches his phone impatiently, scrolling through it. “January 1st? Really?”
Hassel laughs and shakes his head. “I don’t know what I expected.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Larry. I’ll remember it for you,” Poppy promises solemnly.
Hassel’s attention is distracted by a soft red cardigan, and he holds it up. “Oh! Rika, this would look great on you.”
“Not really my style,” Rika says, though she leans in to examine it.
The conversation moves on, and Larry doesn’t think much of it, too distracted by Hassel insisting he try on something other than “that drab monochrome suit you wear every day.”
When January rolls around, Larry follows his usual morning routine: drags himself out of bed, feeds his Pokémon, and takes a hot shower. He’s halfway through tying his tie when his doorbell rings.
Larry’s brows draw together in confusion. Who would be at his door this early in the morning? He abandons the knot and makes his way to his front door. The moment he opens it, he’s greeted with an enthusiastic “Happy birthday!” punctuated at the end with a party popper.
He blinks in surprise, wondering if he’s hallucinating. Poppy, Hassel, and Rika are standing at his doorstep, and Hassel’s holding a box wrapped in silver paper.
“Is it my birthday already?” he wonders.
“I told you he would forget again,” Rika says, elbowing Hassel.
Hassel’s too busy staring at Larry. “I have never seen you without your suit. Arceus above, this is weirder than I thought it would be.”
Due to the interruption, Larry’s just wearing his dress pants and shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and his tie is hanging undone around his neck.“Well, I was in the middle of getting dressed.” Larry’s too tired to figure out what’s going on. “What are you doing here?”
“To celebrate!” Poppy says brightly. “We’re gonna go do something fun!”
Seeing Larry about to protest, Rika adds, “You have the day off, I ran it by Geeta.”
Hassel seems to suddenly remember what he’s holding, and he thrusts it at Larry. “Here. Your birthday present. We all pitched in.”
Larry takes the box and unwraps it, a little taken aback that they’d actually gotten a gift. “A tie set?”
“Hassel wanted to get you this gaudy cloak that he found somewhere, but I told him that you would never be caught dead wearing that,” Rika explains. “So we compromised and got you something colorful that you would actually wear.”
“They’ve got patterns on them!” Poppy says helpfully. “I helped pick them out.”
“Oh,” Larry says, caught off guard by their thoughtfulness. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
Hassel says, “Don’t be silly, it’s your birthday.” He checks his watch. “Are you ready to head out? We’ve got the whole day planned.”
Rika must sense his apprehension because she jumps in and says reassuringly, “It’s all things you like, Larry.”
“Give me a moment, I’ll be done soon.” Larry returns to his room and sorts through the gifted collection of ties. Selecting a light blue one decorated with clouds, he ties it and then shrugs on his suit jacket. He might not have to go to work today, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to maintain an image of professionalism.
He can’t remember the last time he got a day off; he doesn’t think he’s ever requested one. He wonders what the others have planned. As a rule, he generally doesn’t like surprises. But, he supposes, this one is acceptable, all things considered. So he’ll allow it, just this once.
Larry recalls Komala to his ball and steps off the Treasure Eatery arena. Today’s battle had been rather swift; he hadn’t needed to use more than one Pokémon.
“That was amazing!” Despite having suffered a loss, the Gym challenger seems unusually cheerful about it.
Larry decides not to question it, instead nodding and responding, “Good fight.”
The boy digs around in his bag and brings out a pen. “Could you sign something for me please?” he requests hopefully.
“Sign something? Like…a form?” Larry clarifies, puzzled. The boy looks a bit young to already have paperwork to fill out, but maybe Geeta’s started some new form of documentation for Gym challengers just to give Larry more work to do.
“Don’t be dense, Larry,” Shay chides him, overhearing the conversation. “He means your autograph.”
“Oh,” Larry says dumbly. “Okay. Sure.”
The boy eagerly holds out a poster, and to his surprise, Larry realizes it’s a poster of him. He can’t figure out why in Arceus’s name anyone would want his autograph, but he takes the pen and dutifully signs his name on the poster. After a moment’s thought, he adds ‘The Exceptional Everyman’ on a whim.
“Thanks, Mr. Larry!” the boy exclaims, clutching the poster tightly. “When I grow up, I want to be just like you.”
Larry’s first thought is No you don’t. Who would want to be an overworked, dispirited salaryman? Maybe he should warn him before it’s too late. But he doesn’t voice the thought, instead raising a hand in farewell as the boy darts out the door.
Kids. Always in a rush.
Shay chuckles. “Look at you, Larry! If this continues, you’ll soon be a celebrity.”
“Don’t tease,” Larry grumbles. “That’s ridiculous.”
“How so?” Shay asks, curious. “You’re one of the best trainers in Paldea, not to mention the first person to be both a Gym Leader and an Elite Four simultaneously. That’s quite the achievement.”
He waves it away dismissively. Then a thought occurs to him. “Where do you suppose he got that poster from?”
“You didn’t know? The League started selling merchandise of the Gym Leaders and Elite Four.”
This is the first he’s heard of it. Larry certainly hadn’t authorized it. “Geeta,” he mutters. Sometimes it seems like she exists purely to bother him.
“I was thinking of getting a poster myself, actually,” Shay muses. “We could put it up here in the restaurant. To help advertise your matches.”
Larry thinks that he might actually expire on the spot if he had to see a poster of himself every time he sat down to eat. The sentiment must show on his face because Shay laughs. “Okay, okay, I won’t.”
Unfortunately, it’s not the last time he encounters merchandise of himself. In the next two weeks alone, he’s asked for an autograph on five more posters, three t-shirts, two action figures, one Pokéball, one Rotom phone case, plus several selfies. And, weirdly enough, an onigiri.
(Larry had refused to sign that one. It would be a waste of good food.)
Surprisingly, in all the time that Larry’s been the Medali Gym Leader, Area Zero hasn’t been much of a problem. He patrols it every so often, as requested by Geeta, and whenever odd futuristic-looking Pokémon try to escape, Larry corrals them back into the crater. Sometimes he even goes deeper into the crater, curious as to what’s in there. The Pokémon he encounters are powerful, but it’s never been an issue for Larry. He always brings a team of his best Pokémon, which is more than enough to protect him.
Geeta has asked him to keep it confidential, and so nobody knows about his trips into Area Zero, and he’s never seen anyone else during his excursions. At least, until now.
At the unexpected sight of a young boy and a Mabosstiff being attacked by an enormous metallic Pokémon, Larry freezes for a moment in shock before jolting into action. Sprinting towards them, he takes out a Pokéball and throws it in between the boy and the machine Pokémon.
The boy scrambles backward in surprise, holding on tight to his Mabosstiff. “Wha—is that a Regigigas?”
Larry narrows his eyes and assesses the machine Pokémon. It’s larger and more aggressive than any Pokémon that Larry has seen in Area Zero so far. Probably Steel-type, he guesses. “Regi, Hammer Arm!” he commands.
Regigigas slams a massive arm down on the mysterious Pokémon. It’s enough—the Pokémon turns tail and flees.
Larry watches for a moment to ensure that it won’t come back, then summons Regigigas back to the Pokéball. It’s not often that he has to bring out a Legendary. He turns around to where the boy is regarding him with a mix of amazement, relief, and wariness. He looks a little familiar, Larry thinks. Maybe he’s challenged the Gym before. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, but my Mabosstiff—” the boy stops, sounding choked up. Larry examines the Mabosstiff, and his mouth tugs down into a concerned frown. It’s not pretty. He sets down his briefcase, opens it, and applies a Full Restore, but it doesn’t seem to help. The Mabosstiff whines in pain, and the boy hugs him tighter.
“I’m sorry, it seems I won’t be able to do much. I’ll call a Taxi to bring you to a Pokécenter,” Larry says. “What were you doing here?”
“I—what are you doing here?” the boy splutters. “Aren’t you that Gym Leader slash Elite Four guy? You’re not supposed to be here.”
Larry raises an eyebrow. “This is my job. I was assigned here by the League to keep an eye on the crater.” He pauses, then adds, “That’s confidential, by the way, so please don’t tell anyone.”
He shades his eyes against the sun, spotting the Taxi descending into the crater. He helps the boy and the Mabosstiff into the Taxi and steps back. “You’re staying?” the boy asks.
“I’m going to go after the Pokémon that attacked you. I need to make sure it won’t be a danger to anyone else.”
“Oh,” the boy says. “Well—good luck.” He glances down worriedly at his Mabosstiff, laying a comforting hand on his head. “Thanks for your help.”
Larry nods. “I hope he makes a quick recovery.”
Once the Taxi is just a speck in the distance, he turns his attention back towards the crater, tightening his tie in preparation. Time to find that Pokémon.
A couple weeks later, he finds himself having lunch with a few of the Gym Leaders. The Area Zero situation had fortunately been relatively quick to resolve. Thankfully, the massive Pokémon had retreated deep into the crater, but Larry put some precautions in place in case it decides to return. As for the boy and the Mabosstiff, Larry has no idea. He hasn’t seen either of them since then, and he can’t even follow up because he doesn’t know the boy’s name.
He would have preferred not to come to lunch, but the other leaders kept bothering him until he relented, though under the condition that they went to the Treasure Eatery. He waves hello at Shay as the group sits down at a table.
“Looks like you won the popularity poll! For both the Gym Leaders and the Elite Four,” Kofu beams at Larry. “Congratulations!”
“Again?” Iono groans. “This is the third time in a row.” Grusha pats her back consolingly.
“Sorry,” Larry apologizes. He knows how hard she tries for the top spot. “It was probably a fluke again.”
Brassius snorts. “A fluke? Three times in a row? You can’t be serious.”
“It must be,” Larry insists. The other Gym Leaders are so talented and interesting—why would anyone vote for him, the most boring of them all? He doesn’t even interact much with anyone outside of Medali—well, other than the various Gym challengers. “Maybe people keep misclicking by accident.”
Everyone ignores him. “I’ll just have to try harder,” Iono decides. “Next year, I will capture everyone’s eyeballs and get first place!”
“Good luck with that,” Grusha says. “You’ll need a miracle.”
“Not a miracle.” Iono gets a gleam in her eyes that makes Larry suddenly nervous. He knows he’s going to hate whatever idea she’s come up with. “I just need to increase viewer numbers. And I know exactly how to do that.”
“Please don’t make me do this,” Larry says for what must be the millionth time. This is going to be one of the worst days of his life, he predicts despairingly. He’s with all the other Gym Leaders on set, which is a fancy battle arena that Iono uses to stream battles.
“Too late! I’ve already hyped up your appearance on my stream,” Iono says cheerfully. “You don’t want to disappoint the viewers, do you?” Privately, Larry thinks that he does, in fact, want to disappoint the viewers, though he can’t imagine his presence will affect viewership much. Iono informs him, “It’s a charity stream, too, so you’re helping raise money!”
Well. Now Larry really can’t back out. At least the event is just a Pokémon battling tournament with a twist, so he doesn’t have to do something embarrassing like roleplay or talk to chat or whatever it is that Iono does on stream.
“Don’t you ever wear anything else?” Ryme asks, eyeing his outfit critically. She’s wearing a piece of official League merchandise, a shirt with her face on it.
Larry looks down at his suit. He’s swapped out his regular tie for one patterned with Dudunsparces, but otherwise he looks the same as he usually does. He doesn’t have much else in his closet anyways, mostly just plain shirts and one knitted sweater that Gran-Gran had gifted him. “I always wear this for work. This is work.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Kofu says. “I haven’t done a battle with my full team in a long time. Gym challenges just aren’t the same.”
“Just remember to keep it entertaining,” Tulip reminds them as she passes by. “Battling is no fun to watch without the tension of not knowing who’s going to win. And the closer the fights are, the more people will want to donate.”
“That means you, Larry,” Grusha says pointedly. “You’re definitely not allowed to use your best team.”
“All right,” Larry agrees, though he doesn’t understand what Grusha means. He’s no better than any other Gym Leader. Regardless, it doesn’t matter much to him which team he uses. He just wants this to be over as fast as possible.
“Quiet down, guys, I’m starting my stream soon,” Iono hushes them.
The other Gym Leaders smile and wave at the cameras but Larry can’t find the energy to. He doesn’t pay much attention as she does her intro, only listening in when she starts describing the rules.
“Today I’ve got the other Gym Leaders here with me to do a single-elimination tournament! But that’s not all! Loyal fans, you can participate too by donating to help or interfere with a contestant. The bigger the effect, the more expensive it is! Whether it’s supplying a contestant with a Hyper Potion or preventing them from using a certain move, your donations might decide the outcome of the tournament. And don’t worry, all proceeds will go to the Save the Lapras Foundation! All righty then, who’s ready to see me kick some butt!”
Thankfully, the battling goes by quickly. To his surprise, Larry gets quite a decent amount of donations, largely positive. He tries his best to be entertaining (if it’s for charity, he’s willing to do it), but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t succeed.
During one of his breaks, he stops to watch the chat scroll by and sees a wall of ‘#LARRYSWEEP’ messages. He doesn’t know what that means, and he doesn’t think he wants to know, either.
Larry ends up winning the tournament using his third-best team. “Well, I guess that was a foregone conclusion,” Katy says.
He doesn’t get a chance to respond before an ecstatic Iono rushes over. “That was amazing! You all did so great, that was the most viewers I’ve ever had! We raised so much money too!”
Larry tries to smile but he’s so tired. Maybe he can leave now and he won’t ever have to do this again.
His hopes and dreams are shattered when Iono turns to him and says, “The viewers loved you, so don’t think that this is your last appearance on stream.”
He closes his eyes and seriously contemplates the possibility of disappearing into Area Zero for the rest of his life. Surely no one would dare to bother him there.
“Your streaming career’s been going well,” Rika teases.
Larry drops his head into his hands. “Let’s talk about something else.” In the past month, Iono’s already managed to force him to appear on another three streams. Larry’s never been more depressed.
“I like seeing you on stream, Mr. Larry,” Poppy offers earnestly. She takes his hand from where she’s walking beside him, and he slows his pace so she can keep up. “You should start your own channel.”
Larry winces at the mere idea of it. “Don’t get your hopes up, kiddo.” He looks both ways before crossing the street, tugging Poppy along.
“But I think that’s a great idea!” Hassel exclaims, oblivious to how Larry’s slowly dying inside from embarrassment. “I’m sure people would love it.”
Rika says, amused, “I don’t know about that. I think Iono would murder you if you started a competing channel.”
Larry’s saved from spontaneous combustion when Poppy’s attention is suddenly drawn elsewhere. “Look! An arcade! Can we go?”
He lets out a breath, immeasurably relieved at the change in subject. Hassel frowns, checking the time. “I don’t think we have time. The meeting starts in half an hour. Maybe tomorrow?”
Poppy looks so disappointed that Larry feels compelled to suggest, “I can take her to the arcade, and you two can go on ahead. I don’t think either of us are going to have much to contribute, anyways.”
Larry doesn’t say much during these meetings with the League’s sponsors, and Poppy’s, well, Poppy. (He will never understand Geeta’s reasoning behind allowing a child as young as her to work as a member of the Elite Four.) It’s a valid excuse. And if he’s feeling a little vindictive about the earlier topic of conversation, no one needs to know.
“Pleaseee?” Poppy pleads. “Those meetings are so boring.”
Rika and Hassel exchange a glance. “Oh, all right,” Hassel relents. “Just meet us back here, okay?”
Poppy cheers and starts pulling Larry towards the arcade.
“That’s the last time you get to skip it, though!” Rika calls after them.
“This will be so much fun!” Poppy beams as Larry buys an arcade card loaded with credits and hands it to her. She runs off a short distance away, but when Larry doesn’t follow, she turns back and asks, “Aren’t you coming?”
Larry shakes head. “I’m not really one for arcades. Never been to one, actually.”
“Never?” Poppy gasps. It’s almost comical. “I promise it will be fun.” She holds out her hand imploringly.
Larry’s reservations crumple under the weight of her hopeful expression, and to Poppy’s delight, he sighs and takes her hand. He spends the next hour being dragged around the arcade from game to game. He’s very average at all of them. At least Poppy seems like she’s enjoying herself.
When he wins a Tinkaton plushie at a claw machine, he gives it to Poppy. “You can have it.”
“Are you sure?” Poppy asks, staring at him with wide eyes.
Larry nods. “Think of it as an early birthday present.” She’s turning nine next week, if he recalls correctly.
Poppy beams at him. “Mr. Larry, you’re so nice.”
When they exit the arcade, Poppy has amassed an entire collection of prizes. She’s also exhausted herself out, so Larry takes the bag from her and kneels down. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”
He hoists her up as she hangs on to him, arms wrapped around his neck. “Thanks for coming to the arcade with me, Mr. Larry.”
“Of course,” he answers, shifting her into a more comfortable position. He’s always thought she should be doing whatever it is that kids her age get to do instead of suffering through corporate meetings.
By the time they’ve met back up with Rika and Hassel, Poppy has fallen asleep on his shoulder. “Aww,” Rika coos, snapping a photo. “I’m posting this on our social media page.”
Hassel sniffles a little. Uh oh. Larry knows what that means. “That’s so…so…ADOWABLE!” Hassel breaks into sobs. Rika pats him on the back.
Poppy blinks her eyes open, woken by the noise. “Wuzz goin’ on?”
“Nothing,” Larry says, setting her down on the ground. “Hassel’s just getting emotional again.”
“All right, time to go home, kiddo,” Rika tells Poppy, taking the bag of prizes from Larry. “I’ll call us a Taxi.”
“You’ve got yourself quite the assortment of fans, you know,” Rika says casually one day when Larry drops by to fill out some paperwork in preparation for the new Treasure Hunt season.
Attention focused on stamping the papers with his official Elite Four seal, Larry asks, “What do you mean?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. That picture of you really blew up on social media, not to mention the popularity contest and that group literally calling themselves The Larry Fan Club.”
“Oh, that must be for some other Larry. It’s a common name,” Larry dismisses.
“You can’t be serious. Do you actually not know?” Rika takes one look at him and groans. “Arceus help me. Have you never searched yourself on the Internet?” Rika pauses and makes a face. “On second thought, don’t do that. I think it might traumatize you.”
“I don’t understand.” He really doesn’t. Why would people like him? He’s plain. Average. Unremarkable. He’s not entertaining like Iono or creative like Brassius or friendly like Rika. He can’t even pull off the mysterious, cool aura that Grusha has.
What does he have to offer? At his very core, he’s just some guy. He works a dull 9-5 office job that he doesn’t particularly care about, just like any other businessman. He eats his lunch practically every day at the Treasure Eatery with all the other Medali citizens. He’s always tired and expressionless, probably due to the fact that he gets about four hours of sleep on average every night. In his very limited free time, he spends it with his Pokémon or lies in bed and stares aimlessly at the ceiling. He loves food and hates surprises and actively avoids socializing as much as possible. The most interesting thing about him is probably his tie. Sure, he’s trained his Pokémon to be some of the best in the region and sure, he does his best to care for the people of Medali, but that’s just his duty as a Gym Leader. He’s not special. “I’m just an ordinary guy.”
“That’s exactly it. Don’t undersell yourself, you’re a strong trainer and a good man. But that’s not the only reason people love you. It’s because despite all that…” she laughs.
“Well—you’re normal.”