July 27th, Monday.
A week had passed since Cynthia's departure. Eevee's Return kept sharpening with practice, and Haunter had finished licking one Dusk Stone clean before moving straight on to the next.
Watching that nimble red tongue work, Luke's expression stayed permanently strained. Every single lick is worth several thousand dollars.
Plants vs. Zombies had entered final testing, on track for an early August launch. Right before that milestone, Luke got a call from Coach Whitman and headed straight for campus.
"This one's a friendly against Goldenspire University," Whitman explained. "Schools are already gearing up for the College League, so we need to start prepping too."
"What do you need from me?" Luke asked. Getting paid meant actually contributing something for once.
"Mostly pre-match training and on-site coordination for the friendly," Whitman said, frowning. "Goldenspire's genuinely strong this year — they even recruited last year's Riverside Province Rookie Cup champion. Going up against them puts us at a real disadvantage."
The College League ran in two formats: individual singles in a bracket system, and team-based 5v5 matches. Between the two, it tested both individual skill and coaching-level tactical planning.
Hearing Whitman lay out the concern, Luke shot him a look. Have you forgotten there's a literal Piplup Cup champion standing right here? Commercial tournament or not, the village champ still counted for something.
"It's an away match — we head out to Rivergate City in two days, so we need to take this seriously," Whitman said, tone firm. "I'll get the team together this afternoon, get you properly introduced to everyone."
Embarrassingly, half a month into the job and Luke still hadn't learned every team member's name. Friendly match or not, this was still about representing the school properly.
Luke coughed. "Don't worry, I'll handle the training side."
He'd built a reputation as a "training genius" by this point — self-proclaimed or not, running drills for a group of relatively green players honestly sounded manageable enough.
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Afternoon arrived fast. At the Metro City University Sports Center a familiar voice called out.
"Teacher Luke!"
Hannah waved enthusiastically. Beside her, Gordon opened his mouth to greet Luke too, then thought better of it and stayed quiet, too naturally reserved to push through it.
Luke gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. He'd always liked this kid — a straightforward village-raised freshman who'd genuinely earned his spot at Metro City University.
"Don't overthink the training later, just play your normal game," Luke said, smiling.
Gordon blinked, surprised, then nodded gratefully.
Beyond running drills, the afternoon also meant finalizing the starting lineup. Two freshmen had come in through early admission, both already familiar to Luke. The sophomore class held six players, though Luke only recognized Elena by her single ponytail. Third- and fourth-years rarely stuck around campus at this stage — most were off challenging Gyms toward the Eastern League conference or deep into personal training, entirely detached from College League matters.
"You've all met Assistant Coach Luke already," Whitman said, tone serious. "Our situation's genuinely tough this year, so let's move fast."
"No need to bring in an amateur to coach us."
A sharp, sarcastic voice cut through the crowd. Elena's brow furrowed and she instinctively stepped half a pace aside. Hannah bared her teeth and spun around fast, but whoever had spoken had already melted back into the group.
Whitman's expression hardened. "Dylan. Step forward."
A short, stocky player reluctantly pushed through the crowd, lips moving hesitantly as he looked up at Whitman. "Coach, I—"
"'Amateur,' was it?" Whitman cut him off, a cold edge in his voice. "If an amateur could operate at Luke's level, none of you here would've made this roster in the first place."
Bringing in Luke — a sophomore, not even a Pokémon major — as assistant coach had stirred real controversy within the team, and Whitman knew it well. But his own eye for talent had clocked Luke's real ceiling from the start. Questioning that call meant questioning Whitman's judgment directly.
Luke, for his part, didn't particularly mind the friction. Still, getting the team genuinely bought in mattered ahead of the actual match.
He pulled out a Poké Ball, smiling easily. "I'm apparently a total amateur. Care to test that theory with a friendly match?"
A bead of cold sweat ran down Dylan's forehead. He knew perfectly well Luke had won the Piplup Cup — didn't mean he had to accept losing to him personally.
"Fine!" Dylan gritted his teeth. "Go, Graveler!"
Without so much as glancing up, Luke raised a hand the instant the red light flashed. "Eevee. Iron Tail."
Eevee's movement was nearly too fast to track.
Crack!
A streak of cold white light tore through the air, followed by the sharp sound of stone splitting apart, and Graveler let out a pained howl.
Thump.
Eevee landed lightly on the ground. From release to landing, the entire exchange had lasted mere seconds — and Graveler was already down.
Dead silence swept the field. Even Metro City's team captain, Tristan Chen, felt his eyelid twitch involuntarily. Eevee had read Graveler's exact trajectory the instant it left the ball and closed it out with a single, precisely timed Iron Tail.
That's an Eevee. Even accounting for the type disadvantage, how does an Eevee just shatter a Graveler like that?
Whitman, unsurprised by any of it, simply gave Dylan a cold look.
Hannah, mimicking the earlier sarcastic tone, called out at full volume, "Wait, no way someone here can't even beat a total novice? No way! No way!"
Dylan's lips trembled as he stared blankly at his fainted Graveler.
"Get him to the infirmary, should still be open this time of day," Luke said, nodding. "Let's get Graveler looked at first."
"...Well played," Dylan managed, torn between laughing and crying, recalling Graveler and rushing off toward the infirmary.
Luke turned to Whitman. "One spot on the starting roster's already settled itself."
Whitman nodded, clearly pleased with how composed Luke had stayed through the whole exchange.
Luke faced the rest of the group and cleared his throat. "Anyway — if anyone else isn't convinced, the offer stands."
"Training without buy-in doesn't actually work."
"I'll stick with Eevee. Feel free to come at me together, if it helps."
"Vee!" Eevee planted herself at Luke's feet, head held high with obvious pride.
Luke's offer was completely genuine. The crowd stayed dead silent regardless. From release to finish that entire match hadn't lasted a full second.
This "amateur" wants to fight the whole team at once?
Team captain Tristan Chen laughed awkwardly. "Coach Luke — Coach Luke, seriously, we'll follow your training without a single complaint, promise."
Luke's eyes lit up. Not "assistant coach." "Coach Luke."
Alright. Consider yourself locked into the starting lineup.
Luke drew a few solemn circles on his notepad, cleared his throat, and got to business. "Alright, let's start today's training. Pair off and spar — I'll be running drills with all of you personally."
For the honor of Metro City University, even famously lazy Luke found himself genuinely putting in the effort, which honestly moved him a little.
Nearby, Eevee flashed her sparring partner Torkoal a warm, friendly smile.
"Vee~!"
Torkoal visibly shuddered, apparently reliving some past trauma already.
______________________________
Watching the team fall into orderly, focused drills, Whitman nodded, deeply satisfied.
"Coach Luke really does know how to run a training session."