The tournament day arrived with the smell of dew on the grass and the sharp tension of adrenaline in the air.
Every first-year student in the academy gathered on the outer training fields. There were no grand stands or cheering crowds—this wasn't the Pokémon League. But to Skylar and the others, it felt like it.
Rows of students stood with their Pokémon at their sides. Most had only one partner so far. Others, like Skylar, had two.
Ralts floated calmly beside him, eyes half-closed as if meditating. Growlithe paced like a soldier before battle, flames occasionally licking out from its mouth.
Cynthia stood across the field, her Gible stretching its stubby arms with fierce determination.
The instructors explained the rules: Single Pokémon battles only. Each student would battle twice today, and rankings would begin forming based on their performance. No Poké Balls allowed—these battles were about raw connection, not commands through a screen.
Skylar's name was the first called.
But not just his.
"Skylar Adams versus Julian Greaves."
A ripple of murmurs echoed across the crowd.
Julian.
Skylar had noticed him before—a smug boy with perfectly styled black hair, a too-expensive uniform, and a permanent sneer. He was the son of a Johto League official, and he made sure everyone knew it.
Julian strolled into the center of the battlefield with a casual air, flipping his white cape over one shoulder.
"You're Flint's son, right?" he said with a mocking grin. "Finally get to see if that bloodline's all hype."
Skylar didn't respond. He just stepped forward, choosing Ralts for this one. His bond with the psychic-type had always been deeper, especially in calm yet precise scenarios like this.
Julian tossed a smirk over his shoulder.
"Come, Elekid."
A flash of electricity accompanied the entry of a small, yellow Electric-type with fists crackling with static.
Ralts hovered quietly. Still calm. But alert.
"Battle… begin!"
Julian didn't hesitate.
"Elekid, Thunder Shock—now!"
Lightning surged forward. Skylar's eyes narrowed.
"Ralts—side-step and Confusion, controlled burst!"
In a blink, Ralts moved—not fast, but elegantly, sliding just out of range. The air shimmered as a wave of psychic energy slammed into Elekid's chest, sending it skidding backward.
The crowd gasped.
"That psychic precision…" whispered one instructor.
Julian's smile faltered.
"Quick Attack! Don't let it breathe!"
Elekid rushed forward in a blur.
"Ralts, hold position."
The Elekid struck.
And passed through.
An afterimage. Ralts had shifted its position just enough.
"Now—Disorient it."
Ralts's eyes glowed. A burst of light erupted around Elekid's head, disorienting its senses with a psychic pulse that mimicked white noise and spinning lights.
Elekid stumbled.
"Finish it. Confusion."
With a final hum, Ralts sent Elekid flying backward, skidding to a halt at Julian's feet—knocked out cold.
Silence.
Then applause.
Not just from students—but from instructors.
Skylar walked over to Ralts, who floated proudly at his side.
Julian didn't say a word. Just returned Elekid silently and walked off, face red and jaw tight.
Later that day, Skylar watched Cynthia's match. She battled a tough opponent with a Roselia, but her Gible overwhelmed it with a flurry of Dig and Dragon Rage attacks.
Their eyes met across the field.
Mutual understanding.
We're rising faster than the others.
That evening, as the rankings were posted, Skylar saw his name at the top. Cynthia sat just one position below.
A group of students gathered around them, asking questions, offering praise, even trying to curry favor.
But Skylar's eyes were only on one person.
Cynthia approached, hands behind her back.
"That was clean," she said. "Precise. You didn't even flinch."
"Neither did you. That Dig into Dragon Rage was vicious."
She smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You know what this means, right?"
Skylar nodded. "Finals. You and me."
They both looked to the scoreboard. The bracket paths were already shaping up. If all went well, they'd meet in the last round.
"Hope you're ready," she said, eyes glinting.
"I've been ready since the day we met," Skylar replied.
Their rivalry was no longer silent.
It had begun.