Author's Note: The war is over. Kanto breathes again. But Giovanni, freshly minted Gym Leader of Viridian City, finds civilian life far more exhausting than the battlefield. In this chapter, expect some absurdity, a lot of dry humor, and a surprising number of Butterfree. Consider this a late April Fools special.
The banners still hung from the buildings — victory streamers in red, white, and gold — but they'd already begun to fade. Paper peeled in the sun. Kids stopped pointing at them. Civilians hurried past them, already worrying about what came next. The war had ended two weeks ago, and with it, the structure of chaos. Now came the chaos of structure.
Giovanni stood in the center of the Viridian Gym, arms folded, expression unreadable. Behind him, the walls were still scorched from a previous battle — not from the war, but from a ten-year-old who had gotten his Charmander to overload on Flamethrower in a moment of unchecked pride.
"We'll need new insulation," Matori noted from her tablet. "And maybe a fireproof portrait of you for the lobby."
"Why would I need a portrait?" Giovanni asked without looking at her.
"To look intimidating. Also, you're technically a public servant now."
That stung more than he expected.
A Gym Leader. An official League-appointed role. He had accepted it for political leverage, for influence, and because Oak had given him that knowing, smug look of a man who thought Giovanni needed a leash. But now that he was here…
He felt ridiculous.
Especially when the first challenger was a twelve-year-old with glitter on his trainer card.
Scene: Travis vs. Giovanni
"I'm Travis from Cerulean!" the kid beamed. "Here for my first badge!"
Giovanni blinked. "...Do your parents know you're here?"
"I've got a license!" He held it up like a trophy. It was laminated. There were stickers. Matori made a sound that might have been a laugh or a wheeze.
"Very well," Giovanni said. "One-on-one. You may send out your first Pokémon."
"I choose… Butterfree!"
A flash of light. A cheerful, glittering Butterfree twirled out, flapping dramatically before landing gently — on Giovanni's head.
"…Off," Giovanni muttered.
Butterfree chirped.
Rhydon sighed from the far side of the field.
"You may begin," Giovanni announced.
"Go, Butterfree! Confusion!"
A wave of psychic energy rippled forward. Rhydon didn't flinch.
"Drill Run."
The field cracked open. Butterfree dodged nimbly, sparkles trailing behind it. Travis whooped.
"Use Sleep Powder!"
Green dust clouded the air. Giovanni blinked once. Rhydon shook its head, entirely unaffected.
"You did tell him Butterfree's attacks don't work on Ground-types, right?" Matori murmured.
"I assumed someone would," Giovanni muttered.
"Okay Butterfree, let's go for Gust!"
This time, Rhydon blinked as wind ruffled its chest. It looked mildly inconvenienced.
Giovanni raised a hand. "Rhydon, Thunder Fang."
A rumble. A snap of jaws.
Butterfree was gently returned to its Poké Ball before it could fall.
Travis looked stunned. "Whoa… your Rhydon is amazing!"
Giovanni grunted.
"Can I have your autograph?"
"No."
Later, in the back office
Giovanni sat at his desk, a half-empty cup of coffee beside him, reviewing the daily schedule. More children. More glitter. Possibly another Charmander.
"I thought war was exhausting," he muttered.
"Sir," Matori said, knocking, "Surge is on the line. He says it's urgent."
Giovanni picked up. "Surge."
"Gio! You survived your first newbie trainer?"
"Barely."
Surge barked a laugh. "Let me guess — Butterfree?"
Giovanni paused. "How did you—?"
"They all start with Butterfree."
"Why?"
"No one knows. Some say it's tradition. Others say it's a conspiracy. I just keep a fan nearby."
Giovanni sighed. "How do you handle this circus?"
"Multiple teams," Surge said proudly. "Got a 0-2 badge team, 3-5 badge team, and my real six-man squad for the pros."
Giovanni considered. "You tailor your strength to their experience."
"Exactly. You don't drop a Raichu on a Pidgey unless you want to make 'em cry. Though, sometimes I do it just for fun."
Giovanni ended the call with a thoughtful nod.
Later that evening, Giovanni stepped into the rocky clearing behind the gym. His core team was already waiting — Rhydon, Nidoking, Dugtrio — all veterans from the war, loyal and deadly. But today was about the future.
He released four new Poké Balls.
A jittery Gible burst out and immediately bit his shoe.
A calm, reserved Drilbur blinked at the noise and began digging a neat hole.
Gligar landed upside-down in a tree, cackling.
Sandile gave him a side-eye that could curdle milk.
Rhydon sighed again.
"Welcome to training," Giovanni said flatly.
Larvitar appeared next, climbing up onto a rock and striking a pose.
Giovanni looked at the sky. "Why me?"
Meanwhile…
Inside the gym, Matori handed out mission slips to a group of low-ranking grunts.
"Sir wants common Ground-types for training," she explained. "Sandshrew, Geodude, Cubone — that tier."
One grunt raised a hand. "Is there a reason?"
"Yes. Because you're not good enough to catch anything rarer," she said sweetly.
That night, Giovanni lay on his office couch, surrounded by paperwork, plans, and a Butterfree sticker someone had stuck to his boot.
He sighed, pulled it off, and stuck it on the coffee mug instead.
"…Twelve more tomorrow."
He groaned.
Next Time: Gio and his plans with the Rocket Trio