Benoit hadn’t slept.

  Not because he was scared. Not exactly.

  He’d just… never done anything like this before.

  Sure, he’d battled a couple of wild Pokémon, and yeah, Rhea had trained him up like a little army cadet with stat charts and dodging drills—but this was different.

  This was official.

  The Santalune Gym looked even bigger today than yesterday, and he couldn’t help but feel like the gss ceiling was watching him.

  “Breathe,” Rhea said beside him as they stood at the registration desk.

  “I am breathing,” he hissed. “Just really fast and really loud.”

  Rhea raised an eyebrow. “Want to postpone?”

  “No. Nope. Absolutely not. I already sent my name in. I’m doing this.”

  She smiled. “Good.”

  The clerk waved him forward. “Benoit LaFontaine. One Pokémon, correct?”

  “One mighty, furry, stripey little menace,” Benoit said, pcing Zigzagoon’s Poké Ball on the scanner.

  The clerk didn’t ugh.

  Benoit cleared his throat. “Right. Yes. One Pokémon.”

  Ten Minutes Later – Inside the ArenaHe stood across from Vio, hands shaking slightly, legs stiff as wood.

  She was cool. Like, way cooler than anyone had warned him. That sleeveless jacket? The camera hanging casually at her hip? The “I don’t need to try and I’ll still beat you” vibe? Unfair.

  “I don’t usually get one-on-one challengers,” she said, tilting her head. “But you’re here, you’re registered, and I like your style.”

  He blinked. “You… do?”

  “You look like you showed up to either win or completely fall apart. That takes guts.”

  “I—yeah, okay, fair.”

  She smiled and held up her Poké Ball.

  “One-on-one. No items. No switches. You ready?”

  Benoit swallowed.

  Then nodded. “Let’s go, Zigzagoon!”

  The Poké Ball fshed open, and his partner appeared in a zigzag sprint, already hyped, growling excitedly.

  Vio tossed her own ball.

  “Scatterbug, let’s see what they’ve got!”

  The little Bug-type emerged with a flutter of fuzz, wide eyes blinking.

  Benoit squinted. That was it? That was the threat?

  “Scatterbug!” Vio called. “Use Tackle! Sharp and low!”

  Scatterbug came in fast, surprisingly fast, and smmed into Zigzagoon’s side.

  Zigzagoon yelped and rolled—then bounced right back up.

  “Tail Whip!” Benoit yelled.

  Zigzagoon spun and flicked its tail once—Scatterbug paused just slightly, startled.

  “Now—Tackle back!”

  Zigzagoon unched forward. It wasn’t pretty. More like a chaotic headbutt wrapped in enthusiasm—but it hit hard, knocking Scatterbug into a small rock.

  Vio raised an eyebrow. “Nice.”

  “Thank you!” Benoit blurted. “I—uh—mean—cool!”

  “Scatterbug, Stun Spore!”

  “Oh no,” Benoit whispered. “The powder move—”

  Yellow dust exploded around Zigzagoon.

  “Roll out!” he shouted.

  Zigzagoon curled tight and somersaulted just as the spore nded. It minimized the effect—only a few flecks caught him.

  Still, his movement slowed.

  “Come on, buddy,” Benoit said under his breath. “Keep it together.”

  Zigzagoon staggered, then growled, pnting his feet.

  “Use Tackle again! All in!”

  Zigzagoon unched.

  Scatterbug tried to dodge—but the angle was too tight. The two collided hard, and Scatterbug tumbled backward in a puff of dust.

  It didn’t get up.

  The ref raised a hand.

  “Scatterbug is unable to battle. Challenger Benoit is victorious!”

  Benoit blinked.

  “Wait—what?”

  Then it hit him.

  He won.

  He actually won.

  “I WON!” he shouted, spinning. “ZIGZAGOON, WE’RE GODS!”

  Zigzagoon barked triumphantly, then ran circles around his feet until Benoit scooped him up.

  Vio approached, casually fixing her glove.

  “You’re chaotic,” she said. “Wild. Unorthodox.”

  “Guilty.”

  “But you’ve got instincts. And heart. And your partner likes you.”

  Zigzagoon licked her boot in agreement.

  She handed him a small, silver badge. “You earned it. Congrats, Trainer.”

  Benoit stared at it.

  Then grinned.

  Back at the Center – One Hour Later“Two Gym badges,” Benoit said, waving them like a set of keys. “Look at them shine! Look at the symmetry!”

  Rhea leaned back against the bench, amused. “You know you only need one, right?”

  “I’m saying ‘two’ because you have one and I have one. That’s two. That’s math. That’s teamwork.”

  Froakie croaked like he was tired already.

  Benoit practically skipped into the comm room and pulled up the call terminal.

  “Let’s call your parents,” he said.

  Rhea groaned. “You really don’t have to—”

  “Oh yes I do. I want them to know your battle coach is now a Gym-conquering machine.”

  Call: Connecting—VanivilleSierra answered first. Then Rhea’s father joined a second ter, pulling off a pair of gloves covered in soot. He blinked at the screen.

  “Oh, hey, you two.”

  “LOOK AT THIS!” Benoit shouted, spping the Bug Badge to the camera.

  Both parents blinked.

  “Very shiny,” her father said. “Are we screaming today?”

  “I won my first Gym match!” Benoit cried. “One-on-one! Zigzagoon bodied a Scatterbug! I used Tail Whip into Tackle and then dodged a whole Stun Spore like a legend!”

  “Did you now?” Sierra said, smiling faintly.

  “And Rhea crushed her match. Vivillon didn’t stand a chance. Froakie was like thwack, and Fletchling was all zoom!—it was incredible. You should’ve seen it!”

  Sierra looked at Rhea. “You used both?”

  “One for each of Vio’s,” Rhea said. “Skye handled Surskit. Froakie closed the rest.”

  “And you?” her father asked, looking at Benoit.

  Benoit stood tall, badge held high. “I learned from the best.”

  Her parents looked at Rhea.

  She raised an eyebrow. “I yelled at him about spacing and combo timing until he cried.”

  “Only once!” Benoit insisted.

  Her father chuckled.

  “I’m proud of both of you,” Sierra said. “But don’t let your heads swell just yet. First badge is only the gate. The League will get tougher from here.”

  “We’ll be ready,” Rhea said.

  “Damn right we will,” Benoit added.

  Later That NightThey sat outside the Center again—same bench, different mood.

  This time, the party was calmer. Froakie and Zigzagoon dozed nearby. Skye perched on a power line, silhouetted by moonlight.

  Benoit leaned back and exhaled deeply. “You ever think about how different we are?”

  “All the time,” Rhea replied.

  He ughed. “I’m loud. Untrained. A walking disaster.”

  “Accurate.”

  “And you’re composed. Strategic. Like a real adult in a ten-year-old’s body.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  He sat up and looked at her. “I’m gd I followed you.”

  She blinked.

  “You didn’t need me,” he said. “You still don’t. But you didn’t turn me away. You trained me. You gave me a chance.”

  She was quiet for a beat.

  “You earned your pce,” she said.

  Benoit smiled. “Yeah. But it’s nice to be reminded sometimes.”

  They clinked soda bottles again.

  And for the first time since arriving in this world, Benoit didn’t feel like a tagalong.

  He felt like a Trainer.