Can Pokemon into Naruto? 38 (Patreon)

Can Pokemon into Naruto?

Chapter 38

-VB-

Gedanii-sensei was recalled. By none other than Kan himself. 

Apparently, Gedanii-sensei was someone far more impressive than I thought, because the person who came to pick him up did so with a carriage and called Gedanii-sensei by a title. 

The Honorable and Venerated “Swift Bladed Blossom” of the Tokudaiji Clan. 

Formerly of the Imperial Palace.

Yeah, that part caught me off guard as it did for the rest of the village. 

Because as far as I understood it from what Gedanii-sensei himself taught us? 

As samurai and swordmasters go, he was up there. Like he might be in the top five non-ninja samurai/swordmaster in all of the Land of Fire. 

He was a samurai on top of being a noble on top of being a named one and then had both “honorable” and “venerated” attached to his title, meaning that, by Land of Fire customs, attacking him without a VERY GOOD CAUSE, wasn’t just a death sentence for the attacker but the attacker’s clan.

Yeah, he was up there.

Because, as Gedanii-sensei himself explained as he left, he was the current Fire Daimyo’s uncle-in-law, being even closer to the Fire Daimyo than the current clan head of the Tokudaijis. 

Yeah, I had a very powerful teacher. 

In a way, I realized that I was becoming intertwined in the politics of the Land of Fire simply because of whom I have treated so far. At this point, it didn’t matter that I didn’t want to get involved; too many people I’ve met and developed good relationships with were political figures.

Which meant that ninjas were going to get involved, if they haven’t already. 

Which they have. 

Jounin Kurenai already visited my village twice. That was “we’re watching you” in ninja-speak. 

I was pretty sure that I didn’t have enough defenses yet. 

Okay, let’s see what we have. 

First off, we had all of the phantumps. They could and did serve as scouts and trappers in the forests surrounding the village. 

Two, Beedrills roamed the forests, culling both fauna and flora to fuel the growth of their hives and to keep threats to a minimum. 

Three, Robute. He was a psychic with some impressive detection distance. 

Four, Cleopatra was on par with me, and I was on par with … I’d like to say chunin. That’s what sensei told me. “You might be able to fight off two or three chunin, but a proper jounin ninja will end you, boy.” Which also meant that Cleo was at that level as well. Between the two of us and Robute, we had a ninja team of three that could take on A-rank problems.

Five, there were a total of one hundred ninety villagers now. Between my healing and abundance of food, we got bigger and more than a few of them trained with me, though at a lower intensity; I can expect them to fight off regular bandits at the very least. 

So what were some of our problems? 

Just as we had powerful people and pokemon, we also had weak people and pokemon who needed protection. Wimpod, despite the constant training, had yet to evolve. Combee was also not evolving. Of the one hundred ninety villagers, sixty-five of them were children under five. 

Which meant that, if someone broke through the first two lines of defenses in the phantumps and beedrills, we would suffer a lot of casualties. 

Which was unacceptable. 

For now, this meant I needed to focus on training Wimpod. After that, I might try to make more pokemon. Say… like Growlithe.

“Let’s go for one more roll, Wimpod!” I encouraged my youngest.

Wimpod, scruffed and scratched but eyes blazing with will, squeaked before it rolled up, sped up, and blitzed across the field. 

With Gedanii-sensei gone, I was once again the director of all training happening in the village, including those of the growing militia. 

The militia on the other end of the field thrusted with their blunt-tipped spears, and Wimpod, as we practiced, rolled around to dodge it instead of charging straight in. 

The point of this practice was two-fold: the militia got to experience what a genin-level charge might be like and Wimpod needed to practice becoming more mobile in his Rollout. 

 As Wimpod pivoted, the militia pivoted, too, turning as a group. The ones holding up the shield remained at the front of the group while spearmen continued to poke and prod.

Wimpod made a few rolls and circles before speeding up. Then he swerved and came in for a Rammus styled wrecking ball. 

The militia scattered, because at that point, Wimpod was unstoppable. 

But just like genins, he was exposed after he landed that fight Rollout. 

The militia rushed back in and tapped his shell with their spears. 

“And stop!” 

Wimpod drooped.

“I told you to back off instead of going in for a good hit, you should retreat and give yourself more room, Wimpod,” I chided, and my droopy bug got even droopier. 

I sighed. 

Wimpod was … I wouldn’t call him a coward. He fought when he needed to, but he was not built for fighting as he was right now. He was too … enthusiastic? No, it was better to say that whenever he fought, he got too doped up on his own adrenaline and got tunnel vision. 

But I also felt like he was close. So close to evolving! 

“Alright, let’s take five!” I said, and the people had gotten used to my lingo by now and knew I was calling for rest. Because unlike Wimpod, the village militia looked like they needed it if I was correctly seeing how sweaty they were. 

-VB-

Wimpod knew he was weak.

He hated that Dad had to constantly help him. 

He was useless. 

He was weak. 

And Cleo always made sure she told him that. 

‘Go roll over the garbage, you useless weakling.’

Even his big brother Robute began to doubt.

‘I am sure you will become strong. One day.’

The beedrills, kakunas, and weedles didn’t even acknowledge him. To them, he was a background object. 

Only Dad cared but when he took time to help Wimpod, he didn’t get to spend time for himself. 

Wimpod slowly crawled to the edge of the village. 

He turned around to look at the village with its wooden walls. 

Was he… even wanted? 

He saw how some of the villagers looked at him. They thought of him just barely above what Cleo thought of him.

A trash.

They only tolerated him because he was Dad’s.

He sniffled. 

‘Maybe it’s just better if I disappeared.’

Dad will get to do more useful things instead of wasting his time. He wouldn’t have to hear Cleo tell him how useless he was. Robute wouldn’t have to keep up his hope. 

His heart squeezed. He choked out a sniffling gasp. 

Dad and Robute kept expecting him to be better. Soon. But that soon was never coming. He was … he was a useless sack of shit that only ate trash. He couldn’t help but like trash more than regular food. Why did Dad have to make him like this? 

It really was better if he just disappeared, wasn’t it? He was the blight in Dad’s family. Even the phantumps did things. He knew that they were the ones who stopped ninjas. 

But Wimpod?

The ninjas might take him and threaten Dad.

And Dad… Dad will do whatever the ninjas tell him to do because Dad loved him. 

His mandibles trembled as tears started falling from his eyes. 

“Useless Wimpod,” he muttered to himself. “Good for nothing Wimpod. Let’s stop being a burden,” he whimpered quietly as he crawled into the forest.

With no intent to return.