The sun had barely broken the horizon.
A thin veil of morning mist clung to the treetops beyond the academy walls, and dew still glittered like glass across the courtyard grass. The academy grounds were silent eerily so save for the gentle rush of wind brushing through the ivy-clad stone.
Ren was already awake.
He sat on the edge of his bed, lacing his boots with practiced efficiency. His raven-black hair was tousled from sleep, but his eyes cool and sharp were already wide open, fixed on the day ahead.
It was the weekend, meaning no scheduled lessons or duels. Most students would sleep in, perhaps indulge in late breakfast, or gossip in the common halls.
Not Ren.
Weekends meant training.
He stood, stretched his arms upward until his spine popped, then walked to the small wooden dresser beside his bed. Three Poké Balls and one great Ball sat atop it.
"Let's go," he said softly.
With practiced motions, he released his team one by one.
Braviary emerged first, wings spreading wide as it let out a low cry and stretched.
Lucario followed, stepping forward with the same quiet grace as its trainer, red eyes briefly flickering toward Ren.
Fraxure dropped next with a snarl, already shadow-boxing the air with excitement.
And finally, from the great Ball came Combusken, who landed in a crouch and flared its feathered arms with a chirp.
"Warm-up run," Ren told them.
Without waiting for acknowledgement, he stepped out of his dormitory door. His team followed silently.
---
The courtyard was empty, the stone paths wet and glistening in the morning fog. As Ren jogged along the outer edge of the academy, his Pokémon spread out around him Braviary circling high above, Fraxure running ahead, Lucario gliding beside him, and Combusken hopping along the cobbles with light steps.
No one else was out.
Ren preferred it that way.
The air was sharp and clean. Each breath steadied his thoughts.
His mind wandered.
Back to yesterday's battle with Vince.
It had been close closer than he liked to admit. Braviary had struggled against Swampert despite the aerial advantage . Lucario had taken heavy hits. That final Aura Sphere had worked..but close .
'I still have so much to learn…'
He thought of the first time he arrived at the academy. Barely thirteen. Newly passed from the Ravelle Kingdom's entrance exam. He and Mila, the only two accepted from Riverleaf Village, had walked into the gates with nothing but a bag of coins and a letter of admission.
They said I didn't belong here, he remembered.
Nobles had sneered. Instructors had doubted.
But he earned their respect.
He'd trained harder than anyone. Studied longer. Fought cleaner.
Now, he was one of the top second-year battlers in the academy.
But even that wasn't enough.
He wanted more.
He wanted to prove something.
To himself. To the world.
To the gods, maybe.
'You trained your whole life for this, he told himself. You're not done.'
---
Ren came to a halt near the sparring circle. He was sweating lightly now, breath slightly elevated. His Pokémon, likewise, were stretching and cooling down.
He stood still for a moment, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his training shirt.
"Good work," he told his team.
Lucario nodded. Braviary landed beside him. Combusken chirped, and Fraxure flopped onto the grass, chest heaving, but grinning.
Ren smiled faintly. He knelt and ran a hand over Fraxure's head.
"Getting stronger."
Fraxure growled happily in response.
The sun was starting to rise fully now, casting warm gold across the top of the spires. More students were beginning to stir lights flicking on in dormitory windows, breakfast smoke curling from the academy kitchens.
Ren stood and began jogging back toward the dormitory.
Shion...
The thought came from nowhere.
He hadn't thought about him in a while.
Shion was never as driven as Ren or Mila. A quiet boy. Kind. Reserved. The type who preferred staying close to home.
Ren mostly remembered him because of those early days how he'd always ask to spar, even when he lost. He'd never complain. Just smile and try again.
He used to send letters. Ren never replied but Mila did. Eventually, even those stopped.
I wonder how he's doing, Ren thought. Is he still in Riverleaf? Still farming?
But the thought faded as quickly as it came.
---
Ren arrived back at the dormitory just as more students began spilling out—some still in their robes, yawning, clutching books or bread. He slipped into his room, changed into a fresh tunic, and slung his practice gear over his shoulder.
He was halfway down the hallway toward the training grounds when he nearly walked into her.
Mila.
She stood casually near the stairwell, arms crossed, grinning like a Litten who'd just knocked over a milk pot.
"…You were waiting for me," Ren said flatly.
"You took forever," Mila said, flipping her braid behind her shoulder.
"I'm to train "
"Still?" she said, walking beside him. "It's the weekend, you know."
"You say that like I care."
Mila leaned in slightly. "You don't. That's the problem."
He sighed.
Mila chuckled. "So. Going back to the field?"
"Yes."
"Wrong answer."
Before he could step away, she grabbed his wrist.
Ren stiffened.
Her eyes narrowed. "I have plans. And they involve you. So don't even try to run."
"Mila..."
"Ah-ah! No excuses."
"That smile on your face… that's the one you get when you're about to drag me into something."
She grinned wider. "I'm so glad you remember."
Ren tried to pull away.
She held tighter.
He stopped, resigned.
"…Fine. But if this turns into another shopping errand or social mixer, I'm walking back to the field."
"You won't," she said confidently. "Because I've got something better planned."
Ren raised a brow. "Define 'better.'"
"You'll see."
---
Ren stood still.
Like a statue.
Arms full. Shoulders strained. Face flat.
In his hands were no fewer than four overstuffed bags one overflowing with colorful scarves, another filled with assorted Pokémon grooming products, a third packed with novelty accessories, and the last… full of Poképuffs.
He looked left.
There stood Mila, still browsing through the fabric stall's latest imports like she was a noble's daughter and the market was her private boutique.
He looked right.
Then straight ahead.
And finally, he broke his silence.
"…You said this wasn't a shopping errand."
Mila looked over her shoulder, completely unbothered. "Hmm?"
Vein. Jaw. Twitch.
"I said," Ren repeated, louder this time, "you said this wasn't a shopping errand."
She blinked at him with the innocence of a Togepi.
"Oh, this? This isn't shopping," she said, spinning around and placing a hand on his shoulder, her expression glowing with faux sincerity. "This is… waiting."
Ren's eye twitched.
Mila continued, "We're going to a play later this afternoon. But since we had time to kill, I figured we might as well shop a tiny bit." She held up two fingers and made a peace sign.
Ren stared at her for three long seconds. Then sighed.
"Next time, I'm not going to follow you ."
"Good luck wit that ," she said cheerily.
---
They moved to the next row of shops, Mila excitedly darting from one stall to the next while Ren trailed behind her like a sleep-deprived Tauros dragging a wagon. Shoppers passed by, some giving Ren sympathetic glances. Others chuckled.
A few even whispered, "Isn't that Ren? From the Academy?"
He ignored them.
"I'm getting a potion bundle," Mila chirped, inspecting a neatly arranged shelf of handcrafted herbal mixes. "Oh, and maybe some more berry balm. Gardevoir's been dry lately."
Ren stared down at the small mountain of items teetering in his arms.
Then he glanced at his belt.
"Lucario," he muttered.
In a flash of light, Lucario appeared beside him, blinking as if summoned from a nap.
"Help."
Lucario gave a knowing grunt and took two of the larger bags, walking alongside his trainer with the resigned energy of someone who'd been here before.
Ren turned to Mila. "Can't your Gardevoir just use Psychic to carry all of this?"
Mila blinked. "Oh. You're right!"
Ren's expression didn't change.
Mila summoned her Gardevoir, who elegantly bowed before lifting three bags effortlessly into the air with a gentle psychic glow.
Ren slowly turned to stare at Lucario.
Lucario shrugged, clearly choosing peace over pride.
Ren sighed. "You owe me a spar."
"Lucario or me?" Mila teased.
Ren didn't answer.
---
Eventually, the two found a cozy open-air café nestled between two stone buildings. Potted flowers hung from wooden beams above, and the scent of honey cakes and roasted berries filled the air.
Ren sat heavily on the bench.
Mila, having changed from merchant shark to casual socialite, sat across from him with a cold berry smoothie in hand. She took a long sip and sighed contentedly.
"You're always so tense," she said. "You need to enjoy life sometimes."
Ren took a slow sip of his tea, not responding.
"When was the last time you didn't train on a weekend?"
Silence.
"When was the last time you spent time with your Pokémon outside of battle?"
He stared at his tea.
Mila gave a smug grin. "Exactly."
Ren glanced over at Lucario, who stood beside their table, arms crossed, eyes scanning the crowd. Ever-vigilant. Ever-focused.
Just like Ren.
"Lucario's fine," he muttered.
Mila leaned on the table, her tone softer now. "They're more than battle partners, Ren. They're your team. Your friends."
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached down and placed a hand gently on Lucario's arm.
Lucario blinked and looked at him.
"…Thanks for today," Ren said.
Lucario nodded, silent but pleased.
Mila smiled.
---
Time passed quickly in the café. The sun had risen to its peak and begun dipping again as shadows lengthened and colors warmed. Laughter echoed down the street, and bells chimed softly from a nearby shrine tower.
Mila stretched with a satisfied hum. "Alright! Time for the real reason I dragged you out here."
Ren raised an eyebrow. "The shopping wasn't the reason?"
"Obviously not! We're going to the Ravios Petal Theater. New play. Just opened."
She practically bounced as she stood.
Ren gave her a skeptical look. "What's it about?"
"A traveling knight who falls in love with a girl, then discovers she's actually a Latias in disguise and gets hunted by a group of fire-worshipping monks."
Ren blinked. "That sounds… insane."
"Exactly!" she said, grinning.
They made their way through the now-crowded midday streets, past artists sketching on corners, buskers playing old Kalosian ballads, and merchants hawking trinkets from foreign shores.
The theater was just ahead when Ren's eyes flicked sideways.
For a second just a second he saw a man in a white cloak slip into an alley. The fabric was smooth, almost ceremonial. Too clean for the dust-covered town.
His steps slowed.
"Something wrong?" Mila asked, already halfway to the ticket booth.
Ren blinked again.
The alley was empty.
"…No," he said slowly. "Just thought I saw someone I recognized."
He turned away.
Mila had already dragged him to the booth, waving two tickets like a victorious warlord.