The Trainer Academy's entrance gates stood tall and polished, flanked by two stone statues of Arcanine, their carved manes frozen mid-roar.
The engraved plate beneath them read:
"Knowledge is the foundation. Bond is the weapon. Growth is the path."
I felt Pidgey shift slightly on my shoulder, his claws adjusting for balance. He was calm, but alert—like he sensed something new beginning.
Beside me, Kira was practically bouncing.
"We made it!" she beamed. "First day as future champions!"
Koma mimicked her energy with a small one-two punch into the air.
I smiled. "Let's not get expelled before the orientation."
She snorted. "You love that I'm unpredictable."
"More like I prepare for it."
We passed through the gates together, stepping onto the marble-tiled courtyard beyond.
The Trainer Academy was unlike anything I'd ever seen.
The main building towered above us—sleek, multi-leveled, and designed with both elegance and function. Vines grew along its sides in symmetrical patterns, and its wide steps led to huge glass-paneled doors that shimmered in the morning sun.
Around us, kids aged six to thirteen milled about in uniforms of varying designs—each accented by color depending on year and specialty. Ours were simple for now: silver-gray tunics with blue trim, and no badges yet.
But one day, they'd be adorned with achievements. Rank bands. Battle awards.
One day, they'd mean something.
We were guided into a large atrium by a staff member who introduced herself as Miss Selene, a tall woman with silver hair, sharp glasses, and a no-nonsense posture. A Gardevoir walked quietly beside her, its gaze calm and observant.
"First-years, welcome," she said, voice smooth but firm. "From this moment forward, you are not just children with dreams. You are trainees—students of an academy that has shaped hundreds of licensed Trainers, researchers, and Rangers across the region."
Some students straightened nervously. Kira did not.
Miss Selene continued. "Your orientation week will introduce the academy layout, schedule structures, and baseline evaluations. After this, you will begin formal classes in battle theory, partner care, field navigation, and aptitude interpretation."
I froze slightly at that last part.
Aptitude interpretation?
She went on.
"Aptitude measurement will be taught using standard Guild-licensed readers. You'll learn to recognize Pokémon potential and how to make decisions based on that data."
I kept my expression neutral, but inside, I was already thinking through how to quietly avoid questions I couldn't answer without revealing my advantage.
Kira elbowed me with a grin. "This is gonna be awesome."
After orientation, we were split into small groups and taken on a walking tour.
Our guide was a cheerful second-year named Leo, with a thin voice and a Porygon that floated behind him like a geometric balloon.
He led us through the training halls, lecture rooms, outdoor fields, recovery centers, and even a small forested trail where higher years trained stealth and search drills.
"Battle Field One is where most first-years do their mock matches," Leo explained. "You can schedule sparring time after class if your instructor approves it. Also, don't try sneaking into the advanced gym. It's pressure-sealed. I mean that literally."
Kira whispered to me, "We're definitely trying that at some point."
I shook my head. "Let's survive the first week first."
It wasn't until we reached the cafeteria hall that I noticed him.
A boy, standing off to the side.
Tall for his age, with black, slicked-back hair, cleanly pressed uniform, and a piercing gaze that scanned people like he was categorizing them.
Next to him sat a dark-furred Houndour. Calm. Sharp-eyed. Tense like coiled wire.
Houndour – GreenFocused. Aggressive growth potential. Responds to authoritative leadership.
The boy met my eyes for half a second.
Then looked away.
Kira raised an eyebrow. "He seems... prickly."
"Or focused," I murmured.
She smirked. "You're already profiling him."
"I'm already preparing for him," I corrected.
After the tour, we returned to the atrium for group assignments.
"Team Crescent—Ray Virel, Kira Damos, and two others, please report to Instructor Fennel tomorrow at 0800," Miss Selene announced.
Kira pumped her fist. "Yes! Team Crescent sounds cool!"
"I like it," I admitted. "Better than Team Onion or something."
Our dorm rooms were next—simple but clean, with shared living space and individual sleeping corners. We'd be staying here five days a week and going home on weekends, unless assigned to special sessions.
Kira and I settled in fast. Unpacked. Laughed. Compared notes.
And by sunset, we were lying in the courtyard grass, staring up at the slowly darkening sky.
"Think we'll be top rank before we graduate?" she asked.
"Maybe," I said. "But I'm more focused on who we'll be when we get there."
She was quiet for a second.
Then grinned.
"That's such a 'Ray' thing to say."
As Pidgey and Koma curled up nearby, and the moon began to rise, I felt something inside me settle.
We'd taken our first step.
And already, I could feel the mountain ahead waiting.