A week passed in the blink of an eye.
Machoke's innate talent, combined with its diligent work ethic and the extra pointers from Hitmonchan, allowed it to master ga Punch with ease.
It even began teaching the fundantals to the little Machop. Hitmonchan, having been a guest at Giovanni's table for the past week, was too embarrassed to report this to Kaito.
Bang!
Giovanni's fist sent Bruno sprawling once more. The boy was, without a doubt, a fighting genius. He absorbed everything Giovanni taught him, a skill set Giovanni himself had learned from observing his own Machoke.
The boy's diligence was relentless. Even without Giovanni's intervention, he would have undoubtedly beco the Fighting-type Elite he was destined to be. Giovanni's appearance had simply opened up a broader, more uncertain future for him.
Watching Bruno pick himself up yet again, Giovanni put his hands on his hips. "Teachers can only lead you to the door; how you tread beyond it is up to the individual. You must always rember this, no matter who you train under."
Bruno wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded. "I will rember." He could hear the finality in Giovanni's tone. The week was over. He was leaving.
In truth, Giovanni had considered bringing Bruno into Team Rocket— a future Elite executive would be an invaluable asset. But after careful consideration, he knew the boy was not suited for the organization's current climate of treachery and paranoia.
He would be eliminated without ever understanding why. Only soone with Proton's ruthless personality could survive and thrive in that environnt.
Giovanni could protect him, shield him from the organization's darkness, but a flower raised in a greenhouse can never truly blossom.
Everyone has their place. Bruno was ant to stand in the light. His record was clean. In the future, when Giovanni needed a powerful ally on the public stage, Bruno would be his greatest asset.
"All good things must co to an end," Giovanni said, his gaze fixed on the bright moonlight. "But there will always be a ti for reunion. I will co back to see you when I have the chance, so you must not beco complacent. I will be testing your progress."
Bruno did not ask him to stay. He simply made a promise. "I will keep working hard. So will Machop."
The little Machop, no longer an infant, raised its fist at the towering Machoke, a silent vow that it would be the victor next ti.
Giovanni chuckled. "Very good. I just hope you do not cry the next ti I strike you."
"I will not," Bruno replied imdiately, raising his own fist.
"Rest," Giovanni said, patting his shoulder before walking back into the room.
Bruno watched him go, a familiar sense of reluctance settling in his chest. In only a week, he had co to feel the sa sense of security with Giovanni that he felt when thinking of his older brother. He beckoned his Machop and followed, lying down on his mat.
"If anyone asks where your Pokémon ca from," Giovanni's voice ca from the other side of the room, "tell them your brother bought it for you."
"But you bought it for ," Bruno replied, confused. "Why should I lie?"
Giovanni's next words made the boy's heart pound. "You would not be lying."
"Brother Giovanni... what do you an?" Bruno blurted out.
Giovanni turned his head slightly, his dark pupils like polished gems in the night. "Do you not want to know why I have been so good to you?"
"Could it be...?" A wild guess ford in Bruno's mind.
"Katsu and I," Giovanni said, his voice even, "we share a bond." It was not the actual truth, but it was a truth that would serve its purpose. His words confird Bruno's unspoken hope.
"Then what about my brother?" Bruno asked hastily. "Why doesn't he co back? Has sothing happened to him?"
Giovanni recalled the promise he had made to Katsu. "No. Do not worry. He rely asked to test your skill. He said that only when you are strong enough—strong enough to defeat —will you be qualified to see him."
He offered the boy a faint, disarming smile. "As it stands, your strength is not yet sufficient. You should know, I am no match for Katsu. You still have much work to do."
Bruno knew his brother. The crushing anxiety in his chest finally eased, though a faint sadness remained. He clenched his fists. "I will work twice as hard," he declared.
"Brother Giovanni, please, tell him that it will not be long before I make him see in a new light!"
"Then you must continue to work hard," Giovanni nodded. "And do not boast."
"Mm!"
Morning.
Outside the Saffron Dojo, Kaito, who had been scarce for the past week, finally reappeared. He recalled his Hitmonchan and addressed Giovanni. "Well? Did you fail to learn the move? Crying will do you no good here."
"Of course I learned it," Giovanni retorted without missing a beat.
Kaito snorted. "Heh, arrogant kid. The next ti you challenge my dojo, I will not go easy on you."
"I would expect nothing less."
Kaito turned and left without another word.
Giovanni smiled at the still-stunned Bruno. "Keep it up, kid." Then, under the boy's reluctant gaze, he departed without a mont's hesitation. His path was not here; this was rely an insignificant node on his journey.
He strolled through the streets of Saffron City, Machoke's Poké Ball swaying gently at his waist— a breeze swept through the bustling city, and with it, a familiar, psychic aura seed to dissipate from the world.
Upon reaching the train station, Giovanni walked straight through, past the dojo recruiters still trying to poach talent. He glanced behind him.
The boy in the baseball cap stood behind the crowd, waving goodbye— a smile touched Giovanni's face, and he nodded at Naru in acknowledgnt.
But when he turned his head back, the smile vanished, replaced by a mask of cold, ruthless chill. Behind him were the chaotic sounds of the city, the scrambling martial artists, the interesting psychic boy.
In that mont, he and they were separated by a chasm. The comfortable days were over. What lay ahead was nothing but the omnipresent threat of death— his watchful brother and the executives of Team Rocket.
So far away and yet so dangerously close.
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