The boy’s Growlithe lands a solid hit, pushing Buzzy back—and though the Magnemite still has much fight left, this will be his first badge. I’ve tested him enough, and through a subtle clearing of my throat, Buzzy understands the invisible message and knows to play dead.

I’ve ‘lost’ the battle.

The boy breaks into a toothy grin as I recall Buzzy. “Congratulations,” I tell him, my voice warm and proud. “You’ve defeated the Olivine Gym and have won the Mineral Badge.” I fish out the badge, a solid, humble octagon of grey metal and place it in his eager hands. He looks at it with awe, his Growlithe prancing happily at his heels, barking.

He looks up, as if almost afraid to believe he did it. “Really?” he asks, his voice tight with awe. His hair is red, a few shades lighter than his Growlithe’s fur; freckles spray across his nose and cheeks.

“Really,” I say, shooting him my best smile. He beams and rushes out of the Gym, racing to brag to his friends.

As he goes, I gasp from the feeling of activity in my belly as something within tumbles over itself, giving a playful, almost indulgent kick. “Not a moment too soon,” I murmur down to my occupant, rubbing my hand softly across the off-white sundress that covers my maternal sphere.

My name is Jasmine. I’m Gym Leader of Olivine City, on the coast of Johto. I specialize in Steel-types. And I’m currently pregnant.

The boy’s pokemon are weak, but he fought hard and earnestly. There is no harm in awarding him a badge, especially since it’s his first. Gym Leaders don’t use their full power until the eighth badge is on the line. (Well, except Clair, but she’s an outlier for several reasons.) Not to mention that I’ve seen his like before. Most trainers—especially children—aren’t interested in the full set of eight. They just want one, one little token to show that they can do it, rise to meet the challenge and prove that they are worth something. The vast majority of people get one badge to show their friends and family, pin somewhere in their home or office to smile at when they look at it, and then go on with their lives. Maybe the boy will be spurred on to take the journey up to Ectruteak and try himself against Morty, but I don’t think so. This moment—surety in himself—was all he really wanted. The badge was just a way to get that. I already have confidence in my ability. What’s the hurt in tossing a few fights every now and then to give others a taste of the same feeling?

Part of me wonders if that’s just maternity talking. If I’m growing sentimental due to the life budding inside of me, keeping me awake at night with its sensations and activities, making me burn and blush…