The forest wrapped tightly around Route 202, its dense canopy letting sunlight filter through in scattered, shifting patches. The main road—a worn dirt path—was packed smooth by the steady tread of trainers and the occasional delivery truck headed to Sandgem. Faint tire tracks cut through the earth, signs of recent traffic, but for now, the road was still. Only the soft rustling of leaves and distant chirps of wild Pokémon broke the morning quiet.

  Auburn adjusted his grip on Poppy. The Scorbunny squirmed in his arms, legs kicking gently as she craned her neck to take everything in. She was so small, so full of fire—like she could barely contain the energy in her bones. He envied that a little.

  Felix trailed behind them, arms crossed with casual disinterest. The road to Jubilife wasn’t anything new for him, and his aura sense made it impossible to be caught off guard anyway. If anything dangerous lurked nearby, he’d know before it got close.

  The trees thickened the farther they got from town, the underbrush growing more tangled just beyond the road’s edge. Auburn held Poppy a little tighter. He didn’t need her bolting off into the bushes after a stray rattata or starly. Granted, staying on the road the whole time was not going to help them get any training done, either. That thought made him glance back at Felix, who hadn’t said anything since they left. He wasn’t sure if the silence was judgment, disinterest, or just Felix being Felix. Probably all three.

  “Hey,” he called over his shoulder, “could you use your aura thing to find Poppy an opponent?”

  Felix sighed and gave him a flat look.

  “You can’t even find wild Pokémon on your own?”

  Auburn stopped and turned to face him. “I could, but Rowan told me specifically not to go off the main road, heavens only knows why…” Auburn hated how his voice sounded when he mentioned Rowan—like he was quoting scripture he didn’t believe in.

  Felix rolled his eyes and raised a paw, holding it aloft like he was about to give another sarcastic gesture. Auburn braced for it—until the lucario flicked his wrist and launched a small, glowing sphere into the trees.

  A loud squawk followed, and a startled starly tumbled out of the canopy, crashing to the dirt in front of them.

  Auburn blinked, stunned for half a second—then Poppy exploded in motion, her legs kicking as she tried to free herself of his grip. He barely had time to lower her to the ground before she took up a wide-legged fighting stance, eyes locked on the dazed bird.

  The starly recovered just as quickly, ruffling its feathers and glaring at them with flared wings. With a short cry and a few quick scratches at the dirt, it launched forward.

  “Alright, Poppy—get ready!” Auburn called, bracing himself as the Starly shrieked and flared its wings.

  In an instant, the bird launched forward, a streak of motion blurring through the air. Auburn caught a flicker of silvery light trailing from its wings and chest—energy crackling faintly like a heat shimmer. Quick attack, he realized, just before it collided.

  “Wait—Ember!” he shouted, too late.

  The Quick Attack slammed into Poppy’s chest with a dull whump. She yelped and tumbled backward, rolling through the dirt in a spray of dust and feathers.

  “Poppy!” Auburn flinched, instinctively taking a step forward. She hit the ground hard, skidding to a stop. For a second, she didn’t move.

  Then her ear twitched.

  Her leg kicked.

  She groaned and pushed herself upright, coughing once, fur scuffed and ears tilted askew. And then she grinned. A wild, mischievous little grin. Auburn blinked. She’d just been knocked flat, and she was grinning. Was this normal for battlers?

  “She’s okay,” Auburn breathed. “She’s better than okay…”

  Above them, the starly circled again, wings beating in tight, practiced strokes.

  “Alright. Focus,” Auburn told himself. “Keep her calm. Keep me calm.”

  “Watch it!” he called. “Dodge left!”

  The bird dove again, that silver shimmer flaring to life—Poppy sprang sideways, still a beat behind, and the attack clipped her shoulder. She stumbled but didn’t fall. Dirt kicked up as she steadied herself, crouched low, eyes locked on her opponent.

  “She’s learning,” Auburn murmured. “Okay… now hit back—Tackle, now! While it’s turning!”

  Poppy lunged forward, all instinct and motion. She met the Starly mid-arc and barreled into its side. Her shoulder hit with a thud, knocking the bird off course. It flailed, wings jerking, and crash-landed a few feet away in the underbrush.

  Both Pokémon faced each other, panting. A beat passed.

  “Ember! Go for it!”

  A rush of heat and flame burst from her mouth. It struck the starly point-blank just as it tried to take off again. A burst of smoke filled the air, feathers flying as the bird hit the ground with a choked squawk and didn’t get back up.

  Silence.

  Poppy stared at the downed Starly. Her fur was dirty, her legs wobbled slightly… and then she spun on her heel and threw her arms in the air.

  “Chii!” she shouted, triumphant.

  Auburn let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “That was… wow.”

  She turned to him with bright eyes and a lopsided, smoke-smudged grin.

  Auburn stepped forward and crouched to meet Poppy. She leaned into his hand as he ruffled the fur on her head. “That was incredible,” he said softly. “Messy, but incredible.”

  Poppy bounced on her toes, practically vibrating with energy. She darted over to the fainted starly, gave it a triumphant sniff, then spun around with a wide grin. Her little paws raised in the air, she struck a clumsy pose like she’d just won a championship match.

  “Easy there, champ,” Auburn laughed, still catching his breath. “That was your first battle, not the league finals.”

  Poppy ignored him, hopping in a circle before coming to a proud stop facing Felix, clearly waiting for some sort of praise.

  Felix didn’t even blink.

  He walked past her without slowing, stepping over the fainted starly like it was just a rock in the road. His paws stayed crossed, expression unreadable as always. The only sign he gave that he’d even noticed the scuffle was a glance back at the broken branches where his aura sphere had started the whole thing.

  Poppy’s ears slowly lowered. She glanced back at Auburn with a confused expression, one foot still frozen in midair from her victory pose.

  Auburn scratched the back of his neck. “Well… don’t take it personally. That’s just how he is.”

  She huffed, flicked her ears, and kicked at a patch of dirt.

  Auburn watched Felix’s back as the lucario continued down the path without waiting. With a sigh, he jogged a few steps to catch up, Poppy trailing behind a little less bouncy than before.

  He walked alongside Felix for a few beats in silence, unsure what to say. Eventually, he gave it a shot.

  “…You could at least pretend to be impressed. For her sake.”

  Felix ignored the comment and continued walking. Auburn sighed again and glanced back. Poppy was kicking a pebble down the path, eyes still flicking toward Felix like she wasn’t sure if she’d done something wrong. Auburn quickly felt his ire flaring.

  “Would it kill you to at least pretend to be supportive? She just won her first battle.” It wasn’t just about Poppy, he knew. Not really. It never was.

  Felix stopped mid-step with an exaggerated sigh, tilting his head toward the canopy like he was asking the heavens for patience. Then, with a quiet huff, he turned on his heel and crouched down to Poppy’s level.

  Auburn blinked, caught off guard.

  Felix leaned in, his voice low and smooth as he whispered something in a tongue Auburn couldn’t recognize—something foreign, flowing, and distinctly not human. Poppy’s ears twitched at the sound, and her eyes went wide. She looked between the two of them, first confused, then absolutely delighted.

  She giggled.

  A light, squeaky sound, full of renewed mischief.

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  Felix gave her a small nod, then straightened back up without sparing Auburn a glance. With that, he turned and resumed walking down the road at his usual unbothered pace.

  Poppy beamed and hopped after him, tail flicking and mood restored, now humming a little tune as she bounced along beside her new teammate.

  Auburn stared after them.

  “What just happened?” He had no idea what Felix said to her to have such an effect, but he had the sneaking suspicion it was about him.

  He jogged a few steps to catch up, glancing down at Poppy, who offered him a grin and a playful chirp, then up at Felix—who was, as usual, unreadable.

  “You two seriously just had a whole moment without me.”

  Neither of them answered. Poppy just kept hopping, and Felix walked with the same deliberate, quiet rhythm as always.

  Auburn blew out a breath, somewhere between relief and mild irritation.

  “Fine. Just leave the human behind, why don’t you.”

  But even as he complained, Auburn felt a little smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

  They walked for a while in silence, the kind that wasn't awkward exactly—but wasn't comfortable either. Poppy bounded ahead, still energized from her battle, occasionally darting toward a bush or chasing after falling leaves.

  Auburn kept glancing sideways at Felix.

  He wanted to ask. Had wanted to ask for a while now. About the scars on his body where steel spikes should be. But every time he tried to open his mouth, the words caught. It felt… rude. Or dangerous. Or both.

  Felix didn’t look at him. Didn’t break stride. But then—

  “You’ve been staring at me for the last ten minutes,” Felix said, voice flat in Auburn’s head. “If you’re going to say something, just say it.”

  Auburn flinched. “I wasn’t— I mean, I wasn’t staring staring.”

  Felix raised a brow, still not looking at him.

  “…Okay. Maybe a little.”

  Silence again. Auburn fiddled with the straps of his bag, thinking.

  “You’ve been with Rowan a long time, right?”

  Felix gave a noncommittal grunt. “Longer than you’ve been alive.”

  Auburn snorted. “Not quite. I do know it’s only been about seven or eight years.”

  Felix paused, just a half-step, but enough to register.

  “Huh. Right. Forgot you were older than you act.”

  Auburn scowled. “Gee, thanks.”

  Felix didn’t smile, but his tone lightened just a bit.

  “Anytime.”

  Auburn took a breath and pushed forward. “So what were you doing before that? Before Rowan?” The question had been pressing at him for days. Maybe longer. Like pulling a thread in a tangled knot.

  The shift was immediate. Felix’s expression flattened, and his eyes drifted hard toward the trees. His pace didn’t change, but the air felt heavier.

  “Not your business,” he said. Blunt. Final.

  Auburn blinked. “I didn’t mean it like—”

  “Didn’t say you did.” Felix’s voice had cooled, stripped of its earlier warmth. “But I’m not answering.”

  Auburn opened his mouth, then closed it. The silence stretched between them again—longer this time. More rigid.

  “You’re terrible at hiding things,” Felix said eventually, softer, but without the same edge of humor.

  “And you’re impossible,” Auburn muttered.

  Felix didn’t respond this time. He kept walking, gaze fixed straight ahead.

  Auburn let out a breath and adjusted his bag. He didn’t try again.

  They walked in silence after that, the kind that stretched just long enough to start feeling heavy. The road stayed quiet, save for the crunch of gravel underfoot and the distant call of something winged overhead. Auburn kept his eyes forward and tried not to think about the hundred things he wasn’t saying.

  It was Poppy who broke the rhythm—ears perking up as she bounced a little higher, gaze locking onto something down the road.

  Auburn followed her line of sight—and spotted someone approaching.

  The approaching trainer slowed his pace as he spotted the trio on the road. Auburn noticed immediately that none of his Pokémon were out—an oversight he hadn’t considered until just now. Poppy stood proudly beside him, bouncing on the balls of her feet with barely-contained energy, while Felix remained as stoic and unreadable as ever.

  The boy—maybe a few years older than Auburn—wore a half-smile, somewhere between friendly and cocky. His short, wind-tousled hair was a shade lighter than Auburn’s, and his jacket was slung loosely around his shoulders, more for style than function. He stopped a few feet away and lifted a hand in casual greeting.

  “Was gonna ask for a battle,” he said, eyes flicking to Felix. “But… seeing a lucario out already makes me wonder if it’s worth it.”

  Auburn blinked. “Oh—Felix isn’t battling. He’s just here to make sure I don’t trip over a weedle or something.”

  The stranger grinned, amused. “Really? Huh. Thought maybe I’d run into some league hotshot straight outta the gate.”

  Auburn felt his pride twitch. “Nope. Just starting out.”

  “So…” the trainer said, stepping aside and placing a hand on his belt, near a row of pokéballs. “I assume you’re not looking for a battle since you’ve already tipped your hand.”

  Poppy gave a confident bounce and struck a pose. Auburn hesitated for a moment, then squared his shoulders.

  “We’ll risk it. One-on-one. Just Poppy.”

  The stranger’s grin sharpened ever so slightly. “Alright, then.”

  With a shrug, the older boy pulled out his Pokédex. Auburn mirrored the motion, already opening up the League interface. Felix gave a low, quiet sigh, but didn’t speak.

  Official League battles had a standard process: one trainer would issue the challenge, the other would accept, and they’d both agree on the match rules. The number of Pokémon was logged, the rules were set—no switching out, no outside help unless specified—and the Pokédexes synced up to verify everything.

  More importantly, registering the match made any wagers legally binding. A safeguard against trainers backing out of bets once they lost.

  A small pop-up blinked across Auburn’s screen:

  Wager Amount: 100 Poké (Minimum Bet)

  Match Type: 1v1

  Opponent: Trainer Kai

  Auburn tapped Accept.

  Both devices gave a soft ping in unison.

  Kai slipped the Pokédex back into his pocket. “Name’s Kai, by the way.”

  “Auburn,” he replied, then gestured to Poppy. “And this is—”

  He didn’t get the words out before Poppy lunged forward into position, stamping her foot with an excited bark. Felix let out a breath that could only be described as long-suffering.

  Kai’s smile widened. “Alright, then. Let’s see how she handles this.”

  He unclipped a ball from his belt and gave it a light toss. The capsule burst open mid-air with a bright flash of white light.

  A broad, green shape landed with a soft thud. Its body was squat and mossy-looking, with a lily pad sitting atop its head and gangly arms that swayed with a lazy rhythm.

  Lombre.

  Auburn’s stomach turned.

  “Oh, come on,” he muttered.

  Poppy stiffened beside him, eyes locked on the strange new Pokémon. She didn’t know what it was—but she could tell it was strong. And weird. Very weird.

  Felix made a quiet sound, the psychic equivalent of a sigh, and said flatly into Auburn’s mind,

  You know this is a loss, right?

  Auburn didn’t answer. His gaze darted between the lanky water-type and Poppy’s small, jittering form. This wasn’t good.

  But the wager was logged. The rules were set

  He clenched his fists. “We’ll figure it out.”

  Even if he didn’t believe it. Even if the odds were already circling.

  A pair of synchronized chimes rang from both Pokédexes, signaling the official start of the match.

  Too late now.

  “Lombre, Fake Out.”

  The command was sharp, and Lombre moved fast—much faster than Auburn expected. It blurred forward in a sudden burst of speed, one hand glowing with a pale, normal-type energy, like ripples in still water.

  Smack!

  Poppy was slammed off her feet before Auburn could get a word out. She hit the ground hard, tumbling through the dirt and leaves with a shocked squeak.

  “Poppy!” Auburn shouted, heart in his throat.

  She shook her head, staggered upright—shaky, but not out.

  “Okay, Ember!” Auburn called.

  “Bubblebeam.”

  A sharp stream of water pelted into Poppy’s chest mid-breath. She was blasted back again, skidding through the mud as water exploded across the road in a spray of foam and dirt. Her ears drooped, her fur soaked flat.

  Still, she got up. She spat out a mouthful of muddy water and bounced in place, defiant.

  “She’s still going,” Auburn breathed. She was still trying, even though he’d walked her straight into a loss.

  “Circle around it!” he shouted. “Keep moving!”

  Lombre swayed lazily, unfazed.

  “Razor Leaf.”

  With a flick of its fingers, sharp-edged leaves spun outward in a green arc. Poppy leapt, but one clipped her thigh mid-air. She landed off-balance, stumbled—and Lombre was already on her again.

  Wham.

  Another hit sent her tumbling, this time to the far side of the road. She didn’t bounce back up.

  Auburn took a step forward, fists balled. “Poppy—!”

  She tried. Shaking. Knees trembling. She locked eyes with Lombre, her face full of fire.

  But her legs folded beneath her again.

  Felix still stood a few feet back, arms crossed, face unreadable. But Auburn could feel it through the telepathic silence—the judgement.

  Kai, the opposing trainer, watched calmly. Not grinning. Not mocking. Just... pleased.

  His Lombre waited, swaying in time with its own breathing. Ready for the next move.

  Auburn’s throat tightened.

  He stepped forward again. “I forfeit!”

  The words came out louder than he expected, shaky but firm. His voice echoed down the quiet road.

  Kai raised an eyebrow, then shrugged and held up his Pokédex to confirm. The League system registered the end of the match with a gentle chime.

  Poppy finally collapsed onto her side, breathing heavy and wet.

  Auburn ran over and scooped her up gently, cradling her against his chest. “It’s okay. You did great.”

  She let out a weak, stubborn chirp, refusing to close her eyes even now.

  Kai returned the lombre without another word. He gave Auburn a look—something between disinterest and amusement—and began walking away, a half-assed “good match” echoing behind him.

  As the other trainer disappeared down the road, Auburn stood in silence, Poppy shivering in his arms. His knuckles were white where he held her close, his heart still pounding—not from the battle, but from the shame sinking in slow and heavy. He’d walked right into it.

  He glanced down at Poppy, her soaked fur clinging to her skin, her tiny body warm against his chest.

  He hated how easily he’d fallen for the act. Hated how much his naivety showed.

  This won't happen again, he thought bitterly, I won’t let it.

  But even as the words crossed his mind, they didn’t carry the confidence he wished they did.