We spent most of the previous evening talking with Lidia’s group. It was surprisingly nice—refreshing, even—to hear about everyone’s experiences, their goals, and what they thought of the Academy so far. I hadn’t realized how much I needed that kind of connection until I had it.

  But this morning? I woke up groaning.

  Everything hurt.

  Muscles I didn’t even know existed were now staging a full-on rebellion. Even my stomach—usually the loudest voice in my head—couldn’t convince me to move right away.

  It wasn’t until I checked the time on my Pokédex—forty minutes until class—that I forced myself into the shower, then rushed through breakfast. I wasn’t the only one dragging my feet. On the way to class, I saw more than a few students limping or wincing with every step. Instructor Smith had done her job well.

  At the front of the Pokémon Care building, a woman stood by the door. She had to be close to two meters tall, towering over most of the students, but it wasn’t just her height that made her stand out. She had long, bubblegum-pink hair tied with a ribbon, wore a flowing ruffled dress in a matching shade, and her belt was lined with pale-pink Poké Balls. Standing beside her was a cheerful Blissey, waving hello to each arriving student.

  Despite her height and athletic build, there was no mistaking her: she looked every bit the part of a Nurse Joy.

  “Check in with the assistants at the front desk to receive your starter,” she said warmly. “Then proceed to the classroom.”

  The building really did resemble a full Pokémon Center—white walls, polished floors, a reception desk staffed with graduate assistants in medical-pink uniforms. I spotted Melody near the middle of one line, waving me over with a grin.

  “Gabe! Get in line! They’re giving out the eggs now!”

  I joined the queue behind her, heart starting to beat a little faster.

  This was it.

  When it was finally my turn, a kind-looking graduate handed me a Poké Ball.

  “Gabriel Santos?” she asked, double-checking her tablet. “Your egg was provided by your family. Please scan and confirm it.”

  I held my Pokédex over the Poké Ball and watched as the readout appeared.

  Totodile’s Egg

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Level: 0

  Type: Water

  Gender: Male

  Moves: Unknown

  I tapped “Confirm,” then carefully tucked the Poké Ball into the inner pocket of my jacket.

  My first official Pokémon partner. Not a playmate. Not my mom’s Meganium or my dad’s Feraligatr. My partner. My Totodile.

  And somehow, the weight of the Poké Ball made everything feel… real.

  *

  In the classroom, Melody had already claimed a seat and was staring at her own Poké Ball like it held a tiny universe inside.

  “What’d you get?” I asked as I slid into the seat beside her.

  She beamed. “Litten.”

  Then her eyes widened. “Wait—of course you wouldn’t guess. My brother’s starter was an Incineroar.”

  “Ah,” I nodded. “Makes sense. I went with Totodile. My dad’s Feraligatr is still here at the school, apparently.”

  “Oh, that’s awesome! I didn’t know he left Pokémon behind.” Her smile softened. “That must feel really special.”

  I looked at the Poké Ball again. “Yeah. It does.”

  Flavio slumped into the seat on her other side, moving like a man twice his age.

  “You look like you fought a Machamp and lost,” I said.

  “I feel like it,” he muttered.

  “Tell Gabe what you picked,” Melody teased.

  Flavio’s face lit up despite the exhaustion. “Only the most dignified of starters for a future champion: Rowlet.”

  I blinked. “Rowlet?”

  He grinned. “A bird with a bowtie and perfect manners? My kindred spirit.”

  Melody rolled her eyes. “You picked your starter based on fashion.”

  “Style is part of strategy,” he replied, dead serious. “Never underestimate the power of first impressions.”

  Before Melody could respond, our instructor entered the room.

  “Take your seats, everyone,” she called. “Class is starting.”

  She walked to the center of the room with graceful confidence, Blissey waddling behind her. Up close, she really did look like a Joy—if Joys were built like professional athletes.

  “My name is Aurelia Joy,” she said, voice gentle but firm. “But you may call me Instructor Joy.”

  So she was a Joy after all.

  “As many of you know, the Joy family was instrumental in creating the modern Pokémon healthcare system. We established the first Pokémon Centers and later partnered with the Pokémon League to expand our services to every region in the world. Today, Pokémon Centers are a symbol of safety and care across continents.”

  She paused and let her gaze sweep the room.

  “As the director of the Academy’s Pokémon Center, I’ll be teaching you the basics of Pokémon wellness, injury treatment, and long-term care. You’ll not only learn how to fight battles—but how to help your partners recover from them.”

  She gestured to the Poké Balls we all held.

  “You’ve each received a starter egg from a regional species. These Pokémon are rare. They’re not given lightly.”

  “Most city schools,” she continued, “receive only three per year—awarded to their top students. But here, at the Battle Academy, we receive thirty official starters annually from the League itself.”

  A murmur passed through the room. Thirty?

  “The other seventy?” Her eyes sparkled. “Those come from our alumni. Graduates who have gone on to become Gym Leaders, Elite Trainers, Champions—and who honor their time here by donating eggs from their own partners.”

  Melody tightened her grip on her Poké Ball. So did I.

  “These eggs are not just gifts. They are promises. Each one holds the future of a bond you’ll build from scratch.”

  The warmth in her voice faded slightly, replaced by steel.

  “It’s your duty to raise them properly. Not just as battlers—but as living beings who trust you to keep them safe.”

  A quiet beat passed. Then she nodded once.

  “Now. Let’s begin with the fundamentals of egg care…”