Unlike the roaring crowd, the guest section sat in complete silence. Applauding someone else's son losing, right in front of the father, wasn't exactly appropriate.
Wesley and Preston exchanged a glance, chuckling awkwardly. "Well — that was a genuinely evenly matched contest."
"Your son fought well. His opponent was just... a little too clever for him."
Jonathan Lyle's expression was doing a lot of complicated work. "Evenly matched"? Magneton barely landed a hit the entire match. The only real damage it dealt was chipping away at a Substitute. Hard to believe a beatdown that thorough had just happened in an actual final — and against the designated heir of Stormhaven City's own Electric Gym, no less.
Watching Jonathan's face fall further, Wesley sighed inwardly. Luke hadn't just beaten Owen — he'd out-thought him completely, start to finish. Genuinely, that tactical mind of his runs deep.
Jonathan rubbed his forehead. He'd literally prepared a speech for handing his son a trophy on this trip. "Reality really does love a good slap to the face sometimes."
"I'm... starting to believe the online rumors now, honestly," Jonathan said with a dry laugh. "Nothing shameful about Owen losing to someone like that. Ha... ha."
Preston watched Luke down on the field, something considerably deeper than surprise in his gaze. From that scrappy Gastly in the prelims to the Haunter standing there now — barely two months, and the growth curve alone was staggering. Whatever Luke's actual skill level, the resources poured into that Pokémon's training alone suggested serious money somewhere behind the scenes.
"Would someone with that kind of backing really need prize money from a rookie tournament?" Preston mused, shaking his head. "Maybe he really is some hidden lineage's heir."
"A reclusive noble house?" Wesley half-joked — then caught Preston's genuinely serious expression and scratched his head, backpedaling. "I mean... it's not impossible, I guess."
______________________________
The stadium's cheers rose and fell in waves, witnessing the crowning of a new Piplup Cup champion. That single teaching-caliber match from Haunter alone had more than justified the ticket price. And Luke's fans, while not exactly shocked by the win itself, still walked away thoroughly satisfied.
"why didn't he even run Substitute-Protect-Toxic??"
"Toxic doesn't work on Steel-types, genius, burn plus Hex was already overkill"
"my GOD Teacher Luke is disgustingly good"
The win had come almost too easily. Luke's own expression stayed oddly conflicted throughout.
That's it? I actually planned on training Haunter seriously for this, and it turns out we're already this far ahead of the curve?Genuinely less stressful than a casual match against Gold.
"Hm. Beating strong opponents is out of reach, beating weak ones is boring," Luke mused, nodding to himself. "Why bother being a Trainer at all — easy money's just the more practical path."
______________________________
Reporters swarmed the second the crowd's cheering settled.
"Hi, could you share how you're feeling right now?"
Luke offered a gentle smile. "It's fine."
A reporter in the front row blushed slightly. The man beside her cut in quickly. "Could you walk us through your approach to training Haunter?"
Luke's expression twisted instantly. Ah. There it is. The one question.
"It trained itself," Luke said, through gritted teeth.
"...It trained itself?"
"That's correct," Luke said, deliberate. "It. Trained. Itself."
The reporter looked thoughtful, scribbling furiously, filling rows of notes in tiny handwriting.
"Cultivating a Pokémon's capacity for self-directed growth — echoes of Taoist non-action philosophy — a genuine embodiment of the Orient region's Trainer spirit..."
"Exactly what I'd expect from Teacher Luke," the reporter said, eyes lighting up. His awareness as a Trainer alone puts every other competitor here to shame.
______________________________
Luke had already collected his championship reward. $7,000 in prize money landed directly in his account, pushing his total savings close to $14,000. The Soothe Bell — the prize he'd actually cared about — sat waiting in a neatly packaged wooden box.
He opened it, lifted the small, delicate bell out, and gave it a gentle shake. A crisp, impossibly pleasant chime rang out — indescribably soothing, somehow.
Luke smiled. "Eevee's going to love this, right?"
Haunter, equally entranced, extended its tongue toward the bell, clearly intending a taste test. Luke yanked it out of reach just in time.
"You so much as lick this and Eevee will absolutely bite you for it."
Haunter grinned sheepishly, scratching its head. Not that it was actually scared of the bite — mostly, as the responsible older sibling, it just felt obligated to secure resources on behalf of the younger one.
______________________________
Back home, Eevee sat wagging its tail in front of the computer, watching short-form videos.
[#133 Eevee.avi]
Luke's eyebrow rose. "...Learning from HAUNTER now? That's not exactly a good influence."
He crept up behind Eevee and let out a sudden shout.
"Vee?!" Eevee yelped, bolting off the desk and rocketing straight into Luke's arms via Quick Attack.
"Whoa—!"
Haunter materialized just in time, palm out, catching Eevee's head mid-charge, then flashed Luke a proud grin. Impressive, right?
Its expression shifted instantly — its whole body seizing up. Looking down, Eevee had clamped its teeth firmly onto one of Haunter's spectral claws and had zero intention of letting go.
"Kojie kojie! (;Д`)"
Luke rubbed his chin. "Huh. Would've been me otherwise." He nodded, sincere. "Thanks for the sacrifice, Haunter."
He plucked Eevee up by the scruff, its legs kicking furiously in protest.
"Vee! (〃＞dish＜)"
While Eevee sulked, Luke glanced at the open video file. Caught red-handed — secretly cramming Protect training via video tutorials.
"Prevention beats damage control," Luke murmured. "Guess I'm setting strict training hours for you two starting now. Last thing I need is either of you getting hurt from overdoing it."
His expression twisted again. What kind of household is this. Normal Trainers FORCE their Pokémon to train more. I'm out here actively rationing it.
He set Eevee down, still visibly sulking. Not talking to him. At least not until dinner.
"Here — brought you something."
Luke pulled out the Soothe Bell, looped it gently around Eevee's neck, and ruffled its head with a smile. "Haunter doesn't even have one of these. This one's just yours."
"Buh... Vee?" Eevee blinked, confused, dipping its head to paw curiously at the new bell.
Ding-a-ling—
"Vee~ (`)"
All the earlier resentment evaporated instantly. Eevee flopped over like a deflated balloon, rolling happily across the floor.
"Vee vee (′▽`〃)!"
Thoroughly pleased with itself, it examined the bell from every angle — and once it finally stopped swinging, gave it one deliberate poke with a chubby paw, immediately breaking into a mischievous little giggle.
"Vee~!!"
Haunter scratched its head, watching, faintly bewildered. Sounded nice enough. No idea what it tasted like, though.
Haunter: (﹃)
Watching Eevee roll happily across the floor, Luke's face went beet red, one hand pressed dramatically to his own chest.
"System — got anything for a racing heart?"
[?]
"It's just — too cute, I can't handle this—"
"AWSL!!"