They arrived at Goldenspire University around two in the afternoon. The bus pulled up under the shade of a sycamore grove, and Hannah's hand shot up excitedly.
"Coach, could we walk along the Lantern River tonight?"
"I'm heading back to Metro City tonight," Coach Whitman said. "Anyone who wants to stay in Rivergate is welcome to."
Hannah's eyes lit up, but Elena had already gotten there first.
"Teacher Luke, want to walk along the Lantern River tonight?"
"No," Luke said flatly. "A young man needs to protect himself when he's out in the world."
"Vee!" Eevee, perched on his shoulder, bared her teeth in agreement.
Coach Curtis, from Goldenspire, arrived to greet them, shaking Whitman's hand.
"The kids have been waiting all day," Curtis said, smiling. "They were too excited to sleep last night."
Whitman laughed heartily. "My team hasn't slept a wink since the day before yesterday."
Curtis raised an eyebrow. "Mine haven't slept in three days straight."
Luke blinked. Are these two seriously escalating a bragging war out of nowhere?
"Who are you trying to impress, old friend?" Whitman sneered. "Skip the small talk, let's see what you've actually got."
"Calling yourself a coach at Metro City University now?" Curtis shot back with a grin. "Come on, let's see what this year's rookies can do."
Old rivals reunited, and the mutual hostility in their eyes ran deep. Naturally, needling each other like this was also just how old friends said hello.
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Inside Goldenspire's Sports Center, the massive circular arena stood ready. Spectators filled both sides, a handful of faculty scattered among them.
"Eevee is SO cute!" a young woman gasped.
"Wait, that Eevee hasn't even evolved?" someone else grumbled. "Is it just here to fill a roster slot?"
Director Warren, Goldenspire's own director, glanced back once, and the murmuring instantly quieted.
"Is Metro City still running space-control tactics this year?" Warren asked.
"Hard to say," Curtis said, shaking his head. "That Eevee isn't even in their submitted roster info."
"Coach Curtis, that's the Piplup Cup Champion," Felix cut in.
Quinn smiled. "His name's Teacher Luke, right? I think he's also a game streamer."
Zane's lips parted, a bead of cold sweat rolling down his forehead. Careful — almost let it slip I'm actually a fan of his.
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The two team captains stepped forward and shook hands. Ryan took the field first, opening the match.
Off to the side Whitman frowned, murmuring, "Their opening player's the Riverside Province Rookie of the Year."
Luke coughed lightly. "To be fair, the guy sitting next to you counts as a Metro City rising star too."
Whitman blinked. "Right, right, I keep forgetting that."
Luke's own performance had been genuinely stunning. Beating a fresh regional champion that cleanly barely registered as believable in hindsight.
Their opponent, Sullivan, ran a Scyther known for putting on genuinely entertaining matches.
"With Sullivan opening, Ryan's Dusclops still has a shot," Whitman mused.
Luke scanned Dusclops's move list and found nothing like Thunder Punch or Fire Punch on it.
"Hoping he's got Will-O-Wisp queued up," Luke murmured. "This Scyther's probably about to get burned."
The match opened with Sullivan striking first. "Scyther, Swords Dance!"
Scyther swept its twin scythes through the air, blades catching the light with a sharp metallic gleam.
Ryan skipped Will-O-Wisp for the opener, going straight for Trick Room instead. A near-tangible curtain of purple light swept across the arena, instantly dragging down Scyther's speed.
"Will-O-Wisp!" Ryan called next.
Luke shook his head involuntarily hearing the call. Trick Room's up and you're not even pairing it with Gravity? Kid, you're still not thinking dirty enough.
Scyther took flight, dodging the flame cleanly, its wings slicing through Dusclops like blades and leaving a chilling gash behind.
Curtis nodded, satisfied. "Sullivan's commanding is genuinely sharp."
"Dodged Will-O-Wisp twice in a row now, the other side's got to be rattled," Felix said, laughing.
Cold sweat broke across Ryan's forehead. The jeering crowd was clearly eating at his composure, his focus starting to slip. Sullivan seized the opening and sent Dusclops crashing to the ground with a follow-up strike.
"Next," Sullivan said, calm as ever.
Ryan stood frozen, jaw clenched, mind completely blank.
Whitman glanced at Luke, resigned. "You called it."
Two Will-O-Wisps in a row, both whiffed.Is my own commentary just cursed at this point?
Luke coughed. "It's fine — Gordon's Torkoal still has the type advantage going for him."
Right on cue Gordon walked onto the field, expression set with grim determination. Passing Luke, he stammered, "Assistant Coach Luke. I won't let you down."
Luke blinked, surprised, then smiled and nodded.
Gordon took a slow breath, resolve hardening in his eyes. My raw skill might not match theirs. But there are still things I can control.
A blazing sun disc swelled overhead as energy gathered. Gordon roared, "Torkoal — Lava Plume!"
Torkoal bellowed, thick smoke laced with sparks surging toward Scyther. But Scyther closed the distance almost instantly, crossing its scythes to shield against the smoke before slashing straight through with wing blades.
Crack!
A sickening sound rang out. Torkoal cried out in pain, and Scyther's combo didn't let up, a relentless flurry of strikes landing one after another — enough that even the Goldenspire crowd started feeling a flicker of sympathy.
"The gap in raw strength is just too wide," Luke said, frowning.
Whitman slammed a fist on the railing, frustrated. "Why won't this kid just concede already."
Gordon's fist clenched, Torkoal's gaze staying equally unshaken.
Teacher Luke clearly put real thought into this training regimen. Stayed up late teaching Torkoal Iron Defense. Spent his own Pokéblock on us.I refuse to let him down over this.
"Torkoal, Iron Defense!" Gordon shouted. "Once you're stable, follow with Lava Plume!"
The blunt, straightforward call drew laughter from the crowd.
"Who commands like that?!"
"Is this really the best Metro City's varsity team has to offer?"
Director Warren shot Curtis a questioning look.
Curtis considered it. "Probably just inexperience — these two clearly haven't had much formal coaching yet."
"But this kid's just stubborn at this point," Warren said, pointing at Gordon. "Why hasn't he conceded already?"
Torkoal, battered and bruised, kept standing anyway, both it and Gordon holding out for one last opening. Sullivan eventually offered one deliberately. Torkoal charged in with Flame Wheel and got knocked flat by a single counter-strike for the trouble.
The crowd went quiet for a beat, then murmurs picked back up.
"See, all that stalling and it changed nothing."
"Total waste of time, should've just conceded earlier."
Gordon's head dropped, frustration written across his face. Still not good enough. No matter how hard I try, nothing changes.Teacher Luke poured this much effort into training me, even had Eevee spar with me personally... and I still ended up letting both him and the coach down.
His eyes burned red, but with this many people watching he just stood there, frozen, unsure what to do next.
"They've already lost, why are they still standing there?!" a student called out.
Then a hand landed on Gordon's shoulder. He looked up, dazed.
Luke gave his shoulder a firm pat, glancing at Torkoal limping slowly off the field, and smiled.
"Hard work doesn't guarantee a win."
"But Pokémon never let the people who trust them down."
Luke smiled again, patting his shoulder once more.
"I'll take this one from here."