Eevee emerged from its bath fully transformed. Beneath all that grime, its fur turned out light golden, with a soft pale ruff around its neck. Dewdrops still clung to its forehead as it shook itself dry — then caught its own reflection in the mirror and startled backward several steps.
"Dork." Luke burst out laughing.
"Vee!" Eevee shot him a furious glare that landed with all the intimidation of a fluffy pillow, if anything just making it cuter.
Luke tried gently to trim its claws next, only to get met with fierce resistance and give up almost immediately.
"I was just worried they'd grow into the paw pad," he muttered.
By now Eevee had fully returned to the adorable little creature Luke remembered — though its eyes, if anything, had only gotten sharper.
To avoid any mistakes during its care, Luke pulled up the group chat.
Teacher Luke: How do you actually raise an Eevee?
Brock was first to respond.
Brock: Mr. Luke, you caught an Eevee?
Teacher Luke: Yeah. Not sure how to raise it properly, kind of stuck.
Brock: Eevee currently has eight known evolutionary paths, and each one requires a totally different rearing approach. Genuinely a lot to manage.
Yellow: little Eevee!! (eevee_rolling_around_being_cute.jpg)
Green: Ooh, Teacher Luke, which evolution are you aiming for? I can hook you up with an Evolution Stone for cheap if you need one.
Luke stared up at the ceiling, picturing his fierce little Eevee.
Flareon does sound appealing. Wrapping himself in that fiery red fur through winter, maybe draping it around his neck like a scarf, or using it as a personal foot warmer— okay, genuinely tempting.
Teacher Luke: How much for an Evolution Stone?
Green: Standard quality runs about $84,000, premium ones go past $140,000. Which one are you after?
Luke opened his mouth. I cannot afford literally any of that.
Lorelei: Intimacy-based evolution works fine too. Red's Abu is plenty cute, isn't he?
Blue's eye twitched reading that. You're calling the Espeon that once leveled a small hillside with a single Shadow Ball "cute"?
Sensing the conversation drifting, Luke cleared his throat.
Teacher Luke: I think respecting Eevee's own preference matters more than picking a form.
Brock's expression turned solemn, nodding with real gravity.
Respecting the Pokémon's own wishes... is this Teacher Luke's actual breeding philosophy? Genuinely, compared to the usual purely combat-focused approach, that read as a remarkably mature perspective.
Brock: It's not much, but I can share some general Eevee care notes if it helps.
Brock had always been the quiet, no-fanfare type — earning Luke's respect once was enough; he wasn't looking for anything in return.
Teacher Luke: Appreciate it, thank you!
[File received: "Eevee Care Notes"]
The document covered general Eevee husbandry — diet, living habits, that sort of thing. No training content included, since each Eevee's ideal training path diverged so heavily depending on its eventual evolution. Luke read through it with real focus, nodding along here and there.
"...Yeah, I don't understand any of this."
The material ran deeper than his reading comprehension could really handle. Still, one piece landed clearly: Eevee were omnivores — berries, raw meat, grains, the works. Most breeders put real care into meal prep, and the more indulgent ones leaned on Pokéblock specifically.
"Wait — Pokéblock's actually sufficient?" Luke's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, thank god."
Everything else in that document might be beyond him. But when it came to Pokéblock specifically, even Brock probably couldn't outclass him at this point.
Diet: solved. Training method: still an open question.
Except I'm not trying to be a Trainer.Surely Eevee isn't just going to start training itself the way Haunter did.Right? There's no way. One self-motivated Pokémon was already absurd. A second one would just be—
Luke walked confidently out of the room and froze on the spot.
______________________________
Haunter was, in fact, mid-lecture, teaching Eevee something.
"Kojie!" It had produced a small chalkboard from somewhere, covered in genuinely incomprehensible stick figures.
"Vee?" Eevee nodded along seriously, occasionally piping up with a question of its own.
"Kojie kojie!" Haunter nodded back, the picture of a proud, patient instructor.
Luke sat down nearby with a cup of tea, expression somewhere between resigned and horrified. Where did this go wrong?Eevee wasn't the one training itself this time — Haunter's out here training a second Pokémon on my behalf?One of you doing this was already a lot to process. Now you're recruiting?
A dull ache started building in his chest. He pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed deeply.
"It's fine. This is fine. Small potatoes." He glanced over. "Realistically, what's Haunter's lecturing even going to accomplish? Can Eevee actually pick up a new move from this?"
"Vee!"
Eevee suddenly perked up. A faint shimmer split away from its body, slowly resolving into a perfect identical double.
Luke's eyes went wide. No way. Is that—
"Vee..." The double held for barely two seconds before fading — but there was no mistaking it. Substitute.
Eevee, drenched in sweat and breathing hard, looked utterly thrilled despite the exhaustion.
"Kojie..." Haunter nodded, deeply satisfied, something almost wistful in its expression — even dabbing at a stray tear.
This is the technique I know best in this world. And now, little one, it's passed on to you.
Luke had a genuinely overwhelming number of things to say and no idea where to start.
"This is too much for me."
Move-teaching between Pokémon was a real, documented thing, sure — but picking up a rough version of Substitute in a single afternoon? Was that Haunter's teaching, or Eevee's sheer natural talent? One of my Pokémon backstabbing me into the Trainer life was already enough. Now there's a second one in on it?
"Vee!" Spotting Luke, Eevee bounded over, practically vibrating with excitement to show off its new trick.
Luke forced a smile and rubbed its head. "You did great."
"Vee (′▽`〃)"
Then, as if catching itself mid-enjoyment, Eevee went rigid and turned its face away with exaggerated disdain — tail still wagging furiously the whole time, giving away the whole act.
Luke let out a long, tired sigh. I never wanted to be a Trainer. So why do my own Pokémon keep out-hustling me on this?
While Luke sat there, quietly overwhelmed, Eevee stole a glance at him.
Battle meant different things to different Pokémon. Back in the mountains, fighting had been survival, plain and forced. Here, though — Luke had given it something else entirely: a fresh start, and the room to decide what battling even meant to it now.
To keep fighting. To keep getting stronger. To become the sharpest tool in his arsenal — not just stronger than Haunter, but stronger than every Pokémon that might ever stand across from it.
Eevee watched Luke in silence, its resolve quietly hardening.
I will make him the strongest Trainer there is. No matter what he says he wants.