Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Memories

Chapter 8: Out of the Frying Pan

My tailbone ached as I slammed to the hard earth again. My breath temporarily left my body, and I coughed in surprise. My surroundings spun, and the only clear thing seemed to be the hand that extended itself at my face. I took it and was lurched upward with the generosity of my mom; even while beating the snot out of me, she was simply trying to help.

"You let your guard down again. Do you want to return to something more basic? We can refresh punches and kicks again," she suggested. She began flipping through the book that Emanuel had let me borrow.

"No, I can handle it," I said half-heartedly. I wiped away the sweat on my brow, grimacing at the feeling of pounding drums in my head.

"Sophia, don't push yourself. You've only been practicing this for three tenths," my mother insisted. She flipped back a few pages, letting her eyes move left and right in concentration. "Here, this might help.

"We've been working on punching and kicking, which works great if you have the strength to power your way through a confrontation. That doesn't work yet since you aren't that strong—"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I muttered.

"You will get there," my mom countered. "As I was saying, you aren't that strong yet, so fighting head-on won't work for you. You should be focusing on a more defensive style. Punch me."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, now do it."

I tilted my head to pop my aching neck, then threw a hard punch with my right fist. I gasped as my mother caught it mid-swing by blocking and then trapping my wrist with her right hand. She reached out with her other arm, weaving it under my captured shoulder and slung me onto her back. The world flipped past my eyes, finally showing itself to me again in the form of the sky.

My lungs exhaled forcefully as my body landed with a heavy thud. I blinked in surprise at the sudden change in orientation and the force of the rocks beneath me. My back ached where it had hit; my throat burned with my repeated coughing.

"Are you okay?" my mom asked from above with a tinge of concern. She still had my arm trapped with her hands somehow after all of that.

"Yeah." I sucked in a much-needed deep breath. She helped me to my feet again. "What was that?"

"That was a shoulder throw. It was 'based on a fighting style that was inspired by Throh—a fighting-type Pokémon that people used to compete alongside with in martial arts tournaments,'" my mother explained word for word out of the book.

"Can you teach me?"

"That's what I'm here for." She smiled.

I was clumsy at first. Multiple times I fell off balance or was pulled backward by the weight of my mother's pull. She would set me upright again and demonstrate what I did wrong. The bumps and bruises swelled on my arms and legs, some even forming into painful welts. I didn't mind it though, as it showed me that I was trying. Slowly, my arms began to understand the motions and my hands naturally adjusted to where they needed to be; they flowed like a water-type's attack around a stubborn rock. I didn't execute the throw until I had mimed the motions at least fifty, maybe a hundred times. When I did, it felt good.

"That was good, Sophia," my mother said below me after I performed a particularly well-executed throw. I had come a long way since the first few I had done.

I reached down and pulled her to her feet, almost falling over in the process. With a weak laugh, my mother helped stabilize me as she rose from the ground by herself.

"How about some breakfast?" she suggested.

"Food has never sounded better," I laughed.

Upon arrival to the house, however, I realized another family member had different plans. A disapproving glare met me as I looked into my father's eyes. He stood taller than my mom by almost half a foot; he stood taller than me by a few inches. His stern demeanor stood taller than either of us. I shrunk a bit when I saw him blocking the doorway.