The Sakura Alliance's exchange team departed just as quietly as they had arrived.
There were no farewell ceremonies, no special sendoffs — and yet David and the others showed up at the gates all the same to see them off.
Over the past month, it wasn't only David and Amatsuki Mei who had grown close. Jinguji Xiaole and Emma had hit it off just as well.
Among the great noble families of the Sakura Alliance, the Jinguji were something of an oddity. They kept their distance from the Alliance's internal politics and showed little interest in the usual power struggles, giving them an easygoing reputation that set them apart from the others.
What they did hold, however, was something far more significant: the exclusive authority over ceremonial rites, including the delicate responsibility of maintaining relations with the Legendary Pokémon residing within the Sakura's borders and the masters of various secret realms. Because of this, no one was foolish enough to underestimate them.
Of all the Kyoto Six Families, the Jinguji were the only great noble house to have survived intact from the era of the old Sakura Kingdom. They had come through the Yveltal catastrophe by keeping themselves clear of the fallen kingdom's inner workings. And when David's great-grandfather later led Cloudspire's Advanced Trainers into Sakura territory, the Jinguji once again escaped unscathed — owing, in part, to the fact that they had never raised a hand against Cloudspire.
The family's reach extended far beyond the Sakura Alliance's borders, with trusted allies in nations that didn't even maintain friendly ties with the Alliance. It made them a singular, almost paradoxical presence in Sakura politics.
Given the family he was born into, it was no surprise that Jinguji Xiaole had managed to form a genuine friendship with people from Cloudspire.
With the exchange team gone, David and his group didn't find themselves with any more breathing room. If anything, they got busier.
The High School League was less than two months away. On top of that, the competition format had changed this year — with more schools entering than ever before, the preliminary Points Race had been moved up considerably. The first round of points matches was expected to begin in roughly a month.
At a time like this, there was plenty for David to handle. He was, after all, still the captain of the School Team, and training-related matters had a way of finding their way to him whether he went looking for them or not.
His election to the captaincy had been almost embarrassingly smooth. There had been no formal tryouts, no rigorous assessment process. When the time came to vote, the entire School Team lined up behind him — all twenty-four votes going straight to David. The only ballot he didn't receive was his own, which he had quietly cast for someone else.
Naturally, David embraced the title of captain with open arms.
What he did not embrace, however, was the accompanying paperwork. He promptly used Slack Off on the administrative side of things, handing the day-to-day responsibilities to Luke and Willow with the perfectly reasonable explanation that they both had far more experience managing people than he did.
It wasn't entirely wrong, to be fair.
As for David himself, he had more pressing things to attend to. There was still a long list of potions he had been meaning to brew, and he wasn't about to let the captaincy cut into that time. He promised his teammates that he would eventually make it up to them — a couple of tailored potions, offered at nothing more than material cost. It wasn't a bad deal, all things considered.
And so, over the past month, David had settled into a comfortable rhythm: a few days in class, a few days of leave, back to class, another stretch off. The free hours he did spend at school went mostly toward sparring sessions with Amatsuki Mei or long conversations with Vivian.
His older sister had told him about Vivian before she arrived — a gifted teacher from Magic University, sharp in both Pokémon research and battle. What she hadn't mentioned was that Vivian was also apparently a Master Pokémon Alchemist. The moment David found that out, he had naturally found every excuse to sit down and talk with her about potion-making.
All of that, however, was before today.
David was seated in one of the chairs in the school office, holding a small cup of coffee that Dominic had handed him. He hadn't pegged Dominic as someone with particularly refined tastes in everyday life.
He took a careful sip.
His face immediately threatened to fold in on itself.
It's bitter. Genuinely, aggressively, unapologetically bitter. No sugar. No milk. Not even the slightly softened blend you'd find in White Eagle Alliance cafés. This was something straight out of the Roman Alliance — coffee in its rawest, most uncompromising form.
Across the desk, Dominic drank from an identical cup without so much as a twitch of his expression. David quietly set his own cup down.
"A training camp?" he asked, redirecting his attention. "When does that start?"
"That's right," Dominic said. "The competition format this year is different from previous years. More schools are participating, so the preliminary rounds have been pushed forward significantly. Placement in the main event is decided by your standing in the points matches." He paused. "Our first match falls on the tenth of next month — exactly one month from now."
"Got it," David said, after a moment's thought. "I'll be there." He nodded. "I've finished most of the potions I had queued up anyway. The Dragon-type enhancement research I'm running is a long-term project — that can wait. I should be with the team for something like this."
Dominic's expression darkened.
That's what you lead with? The man stared at him flatly. There's no world in which a School Team captain doesn't attend their own team's training camp. Privately, Dominic thought: this kid has completely fallen into the habit of treating absence as the default.
Catching the look on Dominic's face, David recognized immediately that his phrasing had not landed well. He pivoted.
"What I mean is — where will the training camp be held? We're not just staying on school grounds, are we?"
"You'll find out when we get there." Dominic's tone left no room for follow-up questions. "Go back and let the School Team know. This camp will run for at least half a month, possibly longer. Tell them to come prepared."
David stood, gave a short nod, and left.
Behind him, on the desk, his cup of coffee sat untouched — still full.