Saturday. The long-awaited Piplup Cup semifinals finally kicked off. Per the bracket, Trainer Luke was paired against Hannah, from Metro City University's affiliated high school — the same streaming regular whose team ran on Breloom. The other bracket was an all-Crestwood affair: Tyler versus Owen.
The moment Tyler saw the pairing sheet, he wiped a bead of cold sweat and let out a genuine sigh of relief.
"Thank god. At least I don't have to face Teacher Luke this round."
Hannah, meanwhile, had stars practically shining in her eyes, adding Luke on the pretense of "professional questions" and firing off messages nonstop.
"Teacher Luke, we're in the same bracket for the semis!!"
"Teacher Luke can I get a photo after the match?? An autograph would be amazing too!!"
With his growing following, Luke had picked up a genuine fanbase among the tournament's younger competitors — and Hannah, watching her messages, looked less like someone preparing to compete and more like someone camped outside a concert venue.
"This really is just a fan match," Luke muttered, clicking into her Instagram out of curiosity — and his eyelids immediately twitched.
Her profile banner: a chibi fan illustration, maybe seventy percent recognizable as him. Beside it floated a grinning Gengar with the caption: "Protecting the greatest Substitute-Protect-Toxic in the world!"
Luke blinked. Is this... an actual dedicated fangirl?
Scrolling further into her Twitter feed didn't help.
"Excuse me, Teacher Luke is AT LEAST Master-tier, don't talk nonsense if you don't know what you're on about"
"aaaahh Teacher Luke can COOK too, I love him, I love him so much"
Luke's expression grew increasingly complicated. He glanced over at Haunter, scratching its head nearby.
"Kojie?"
"Later — go a little harder on her than usual. Time for her to learn the real world's a little rough sometimes."
"Kojie!" Haunter cracked its knuckles, baring its fangs with a distinctly sinister grin.
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For lunch, Luke put out a bowl of moomoo milk for Eevee. After calling it several times with zero response, he ended up carrying it out of the room personally.
"Vee..." Eevee let out a reluctant whine, briefly attempting to squirm free — before finally lowering its head and lapping quietly at the milk.
Luke slipped a hand into the soft fur around its neck, smiling at the texture. "Genuinely no complaints about this fur."
"Vee!" Eevee snapped its head up, shot him a fierce glare — and immediately let out a small burp.
"Buh... urp, Vee!"
Teeth bared or not, the effect of following it up with a burp thoroughly undercut the intimidation factor.
"Lactose intolerant?" Luke blinked, then laughed. "Hang on, let me find you something else for lunch."
"Buh, Vee!" Eevee burped again, gave a small flick of its tail, and turned away, faintly embarrassed.
Across the room, Haunter was shoveling handfuls of Pokéblock into its mouth like candy, chasing it with a bottle of Mental Soda.
Fizz—
It cracked the cap, took a sip with eyes narrowed in satisfaction, and let out a happy groan.
"Kojie~!"
Before heading out, Luke gave Eevee's head a final scratch. "Want to come with us?"
"Kojie!" Haunter added its own enthusiastic invitation, eyes bright.
Eevee flinched back half a step and shook its head — still a bit skittish around crowds, though staying cooped up in its ball constantly wasn't ideal either.
"Guard the house, then," Luke said, smiling. "We'll bring something good back."
"Buh, Vee..." Eevee gave a small nod, burped once more, and scurried off.
Watching it retreat, Luke rubbed his chin. "Eevee doesn't know Will-O-Wisp, right? Shouldn't be any house fires this time."
"...Should be fine." He nodded, confident. "Alright, Haunter — time for the fan match."
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Riverbend Arena was already packed, media crews mobilized in force. This marked the closing highlight of Metro City University's biggest event of the summer.
"The Piplup Cup semifinals are underway — among this field of prodigies, Trainer Luke of Metro City University..."
"Can the tournament's biggest dark horse pull off yet another upset?!"
"Special guest commentator announced for the semifinals — South China Division Champion Marcus Reeves, joining us today!"
As seasoned guest commentators, veterans like Reeves would weigh in on each competitor's performance — doubling, unofficially, as part of the assessment tied to next month's Elementary Trainer Certification.
Chairman Preston greeted him warmly. "Master Reeves, it's been a while."
Reeves returned the gesture with a respectful bow. "Old friend, you're looking as sharp as ever."
"With this much young talent coming up, how could I not be at ease," Preston said, beaming.
"Oh?" Reeves raised an eyebrow. "Are you referring to Owen, or Tyler?"
Preston just stroked his beard, smiling, saying nothing.
"Their match is up first," Reeves said. "We'll find out soon enough who's got the edge."
The starting signal fired, the commentator's voice rising to announce the match.
"Both competitors in position — let's see how this plays out!"
Up in the stands, Bob stammered, "Brother Luke... are you seriously this relaxed right now?"
"I'm extremely nervous, actually," Luke said, sighing. "Look at my eyes if you don't believe me."
"...Huh. Yeah, actually, you do look pretty nervous."
Daniel, mid-bite on a burger, glanced over without much conviction. "He's not nervous at all."
Luke coughed lightly, saying nothing. Even if he'd wanted to work up some nerves, the fact that his opponent was literally one of his own fans made it genuinely impossible to take seriously.
"Let's just watch," Luke said. "These tickets weren't cheap, several hundred bucks each."
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Ivysaur versus Magneton. Outside of Toxic being useless against Steel-types, neither side had a clean type advantage to lean on — this one would come down purely to command skill and training quality.
Owen opened. "Thunder Wave!"
With Ivysaur's sluggish speed, dodging outright was basically impossible — but Protect lit up in time, absorbing the crackling surge of electricity. In the same beat, Ivysaur curled its limbs inward, vines snapping down and anchoring into the ground.
"Trainer Tyler's sacrificing mobility entirely — Ivysaur's rooting in place with Ingrain!" the commentator called.
"Ivysaur's speed stat has always been a weakness," Preston noted. "Smart adjustment."
Reeves smiled. "Looks like he's committing to a war of attrition."
"Leech Seed!" Tyler barked.
"Gyro Ball, then close the gap with Thunderbolt!" Owen answered instantly.
Thorny vines shot toward Magneton — which was already spinning at full speed, deflecting every single one. With Ivysaur rooted and immobile, Magneton closed the distance fast, and a blinding surge of electricity tore across the field.
Ivysaur curled in on itself, wracked with pain.
"Hidden Power!" Tyler called, sharp and urgent.
At the last possible moment, a beam of light burst from the flower bud on Ivysaur's back, a wave of scorching heat rolling across the arena.
"A Fire-type Hidden Power?" Preston said, genuinely startled. "He really was holding something back."
"Bit reckless, though," Reeves said, frowning.
Up in the stands, Bob gasped. "No way, is Ivysaur about to flip this?!"
Luke, unmoved, just sighed. "Owen's got this."
The Hidden Power flames surged forward — Magneton weathered the burn, letting out a sharp, piercing shriek, and answered immediately with another Thunderbolt.
The referee's flag went up. "Ivysaur is unable to battle! Winner: Crestwood University's Owen!"