Hariyama's greatest strength was his defense, followed by raw fighting power. His one obvious weakness was speed, and everyone in the stadium knew it. Tremendous force, but only if he could actually land a hit.
"Hariyama, tank it," Shirō said calmly, watching the Water Gun streak across the arena toward him.
He didn't even flinch. Compared to Eight Gates training, a Water Gun wasn't worth stepping aside for.
"Bang, tssss!" The jet hit Hariyama square in the belly, made a sharp hissing sound against his skin... and did nothing. The crowd went dead silent for a moment, then erupted.
"Incredible defense," the commentator called out. "Dragonite's Water Gun had virtually no effect!"
In the stands, Nathan shook his head slowly. "They're at similar levels but Hariyama just shrugged that off. Shirō's training must have been brutal."
Ferb Ignatius, sitting beside him, nodded. He knew better than most what the gap between a near-Legendary tier Pokémon and an ordinary one looked like. "It's not that the Water Gun was ineffective, the damage just wasn't visible. Hariyama's conditioning is on another level entirely."
"Shirō's been hiding him the whole tournament," Nathan added, leaning forward. "Used second and third string for every match except ours. Hariyama never appeared once. My brother-in-law told me Hariyama is the second strongest on Shirō's main roster."
...
Up on Shirō's end of the field, his palm was already damp with sweat.
Good thing Master said I could open the first three Gates in a match, he thought. Without that I'd have no path to victory here.
High above the stadium, Ash stood at the top of the seating structure with Sabrina leaning back against him, the two of them watching the field below undisturbed. The angle and the crowd noise meant nobody noticed them.
"Shirō's nervous," Ash said.
"Isn't that normal?" Sabrina tilted her head up at him. "It's his first conference final."
"It's not the crowd. It's Blake's Dragonite specifically." Ash watched the field with quiet focus, his Rinnegan reading every micro-expression from a distance. "The matchup is terrible for him. Dragonite's speed is Hariyama's worst nightmare. He needs to force Blake into using his trump card, which means he can't afford a loss here."
...
Down on the field, Blake had already done the math.
"Don't let him close the distance. Dragonite, Thunderbolt."
Golden lightning crackled from the antennae on Dragonite's forehead and screamed across the arena at Hariyama's location.
"Soru."
The word left Shirō's mouth quietly and Hariyama simply wasn't there anymore. The Thunderbolt tore through empty air and scorched the arena floor where he'd been standing half a second earlier.
The crowd lost their minds.
"How is Hariyama moving like that?!"
Blake's pupils shrank. He reacted instantly. "Dragonite, climb, maximum speed!"
...
Above the field, Ash smiled slightly.
"He figured it out," he said.
Sabrina looked up at him. "What do you mean?"
"When I was teaching the group, I told them Hariyama couldn't learn Soru. Short legs, wrong body structure for the footwork." He paused. "I meant it as a limitation. Shirō took it as a problem to solve."
"Soru works by rapid explosive ground contact, continuous stomping to generate instant movement. The direction is entirely up to the user. Hariyama's legs are short and his feet are wide, so he can't cut angles or change direction freely, only left and right. But within that range..." Ash watched Hariyama reappear on the far side of the arena, massive and unhurried. "It looks instantaneous to anyone who doesn't know what to watch for."
Sabrina was quiet for a moment. "You didn't think he'd actually manage it."
"No," Ash admitted. "I didn't."
...
Blake had already pulled Dragonite skyward, denying Hariyama the ground game entirely. Smart. If Hariyama couldn't close distance, he couldn't hit.
Shirō didn't look discouraged. "Focus Energy."
Hariyama settled into his stance, energy gathering slowly and deliberately around him. The second time now.
Blake's expression tightened. Two Focus Energy stacks. If one of those hits lands cleanly it'll take half Dragonite's health in one shot. He clicked his tongue quietly. He looks like easy prey but the moment you bite down you realize the whole thing is poisoned.
"I can't keep playing it safe," Blake muttered to himself. "I need to think differently."