July 30th, Thursday.
Eevee stepped across Luke's face, stretched both front paws, let out a long yawn, and burrowed comfortably back into the blankets.
Luke, mid-nightmare about being crushed under a Gigantamax Eevee, jolted awake in a cold sweat. Looking around, he found Haunter stuck to the ceiling, drooling in its sleep. Lifting the covers revealed Eevee curled tight into a ball, waving one paw irritably at the offending sunlight.
Hair a complete mess, Luke sighed. "A nightmare first thing this morning. Not exactly a great sign."
"I'm picking a Pokémon today. Hoping that doesn't turn into an omen."
He felt genuinely solemn about it — something close to a first-day-of-the-journey feeling, equal parts excitement and nerves.
"I'm not becoming a Trainer over this. The priority's still getting along with these two."
Luke nodded to himself, sighing internally. They can't push themselves too hard either way. This family cannot financially support a third backstabber.
Eevee and Haunter had drilled Reflect and Light Screen late into the night. Neither move was fully mastered yet, though both bore some resemblance to Protect's underlying mechanics. Assuming the two were simply sleeping in, Luke made breakfast, left a note, and headed out.
"Stepping out. Back this afternoon. You two handle lunch yourselves."
Haunter could read perfectly well, and leaving cash for Eevee's own restaurant trip wasn't exactly a stretch at this point. Luke sometimes genuinely suspected Eevee didn't need a Trainer at all with Haunter around.
"Well — that's really just a testament to how well I trained Haunter," Luke said, nodding with total confidence.
______________________________
With August closing in the heat hadn't let up at all, a few Pidgey drooping listlessly on branches under a cloudless sky. Luke caught a taxi out to Metro City University's Pokémon Institute, arriving at a breeding facility tucked at the base of a hill on South Campus.
"There you are." Whitman waved, smiling.
Luke had on the Black Glasses he'd won in an earlier pull — technically boosting Dark-type moves, cosmetically giving him a faintly villainous edge. Genuinely solid sunglasses regardless of the gimmick attached.
"Coach, is all of this actually Breeding House land?" Luke asked, curious. This was his first time on the animal husbandry campus, and the scale alone dwarfed every other college he'd seen.
"Technically it's called the Breeding House, but it runs over three thousand acres," Whitman explained. "Animal husbandry majors intern here every year. Plenty of students, graduates, and even faculty leave their Pokémon here too — some genuinely powerful ones roaming around."
Raising a Pokémon properly ran costs on par with actual combat training. The Association's official six-Pokémon carry limit existed specifically because exceeding it usually meant a Trainer couldn't reasonably guarantee proper care for all of them, risking neglect. That said, Trainers confident in their own resources sometimes carried a full twelve regardless. Anything beyond the cap typically got boarded at a facility like this one, or entrusted to a familiar Pokémon Professor instead.
"Only three thousand acres for the whole Breeding House?" Luke said, mildly surprised. "I saw Professor Oak's Backyard on YouTube — that place runs over thirty thousand."
Whitman laughed. "Well, Dr. Oak basically founded the entire field of Pokémon research. 'Wilderness' honestly fits that place better than 'backyard' ever will."
Luke followed Whitman deeper into the grounds. Forests, sand dunes, rivers, open grassland, and — under a certain girl's skirt (scratch that) — the sheer range of habitats and species left Luke genuinely stunned. Affectionate Nidoran♂ and Nidorina pairs. A Silcoon tucked in the treeline with only one red eye visible. A suspiciously well-fed Farfetch'd.
Wiping drool from the corner of his mouth, Luke followed Whitman toward a small wooden cottage. An elderly woman with white hair and a kind face stepped out to greet them.
Whitman gestured at Luke, grinning. "This is the kid who avenged Metro City's honor a few days back. Would you mind picking out a Pokémon for him?"
"Rare to see this kind of drive in someone his age these days," Granny Ellis said, smiling. "Don't worry, anything raised here at Metro City's Breeding House comes hardworking, ambitious, and full of real potential."
Luke's expression flickered.
"Ma'am, really, no need to trouble yourself, I can just pick something myself."
If I actually let her hand-pick something with those decades of sharp instincts, I'm doomed.
Granny Ellis looked him over carefully, then nodded with a satisfied smile. Handsome, driven, and respectful toward his elders too.I know exactly which of the staff's own bred litters to point him toward.
She leaned on her cane. "Give me a moment, I'll go prepare a few options."
Doesn't much matter which I show him, she thought to herself. They're all excellent. Just depends what catches his eye.
Luke let out a relieved breath, having genuinely worried she'd force some high-potential monster on him regardless of his own preference. Partly he feared disappointing a Pokémon that deserved better than his own laid-back energy. Partly he worried a battle-hungry personality wouldn't mesh well with Eevee and Haunter's already-established dynamic.
So Luke had settled on a clear target: something that matched his own temperament. Someone content to just take it easy.
In short — find the laziest one available.
Whitman clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Granny Ellis's judgment is completely reliable."
"Though," he added, a touch more serious, "you can only choose from whichever ones she actually offers. Some of these Pokémon belong privately to specific people, so it's not an open pick."
Luke nodded. Fair enough — if it really were an open pick, he'd have gone straight for that Slowpoke he'd spotted waving lazily at him on the way in. Exactly his type.
"She's not about to just hand me one of the three starters, is she?" Luke laughed. "Those things run six figures easy. Metro City can't possibly be that generous."
Whitman considered it. "There's actually precedent for that happening in past years. We'll just have to see what she brings out."
"Either way — trust her eye. Whatever she recommends is going to suit you perfectly."
Luke exhaled, relieved. She seems sharp and quiet. She'll probably clock me as a lovable scoundrel on sight and adjust accordingly.
______________________________
Granny Ellis, leaning on her cane, made her way over to her husband and gave him a light nudge with her foot.
"Old man. Call the Old Principal for me. I'm thinking of giving away one of the starters."
The old man, half-dozing, jolted awake. "Those are the ones the old master left behind, aren't they? You're just giving one away?"
Granny Ellis huffed. "This old woman's allowed to have a soft spot for handsome young men, isn't she?"
He gave a resigned smile. "I'll go make the call. It's hot out, put your sun hat on."
Warmth spread through her chest at that, though all she let herself say, barely audible, was, "There's plum juice in the fridge. Drink some later."
"Right, right. I'll go check on that litter," the old man said, rubbing his hands together as he headed off. "Every one of them's fierce and sharp in a fight. Ha — whichever Trainer ends up with this kind of luck is in for quite a ride."