In the Caelum household, Leyn sat at the dinner table with stars practically shining in his eyes. Rhea set down a warm bowl of stew in front of him while Gerald leaned back in his chair, arms folded loosely, watching their son practically vibrate with energy. Pikachu sat beside Leyn on the chair, tail swishing as he waited for his share of berries.
Leyn took a spoonful of stew, swallowed quickly, and immediately burst out,
"Mom, Dad—today was awesome! But we're not stopping there! We're gonna make the next show even better! Bigger! You'll see! Look forward to tomorrow!"
Pikachu pumped his tiny paw into the air. "Pika pika! Pikachu!"
Leyn pointed at Pikachu dramatically. "See? Even Pikachu agrees! That means it's definitely happening!"
Pikachu nodded enthusiastically, chest puffed out like he had just made a royal decree.
Rhea giggled behind her hand, amused by the duo's shared excitement. "Oh my… You two are really fired up tonight."
Gerald chuckled, shaking his head. "What an energetic pair… Alright then, Leyn. We'll be looking forward to tomorrow. Go for it."
Rhea raised her fist cheeringly. "Go, Leyn! Go Pikachu! Have fun and keep surprising us."
Leyn grinned widely, cheeks flushed with happiness. Pikachu chimed a loud "Pikachuuu!" as if taking a bow.
The two parents shared a glance, both silently proud of how happy their son looked. Neither of them interrupted theirs son's happiness and enthusiasm and continued to cheer him on.
---
Just a few blocks away, Leaf had finished her bath and was now brushing her hair in front of the mirror when her grandmother called her to the living room. As she stepped in the living room, her parents and grandmother were all gathered at the table and sofa with gentle smiles.
"So?" her father asked, leaning forward. "Was it fun?"
Leaf's eyes sparkled. "Yes! It was so much fun! And… I wanna do even better next time. Leyn said we're gonna improve the show and add more. So… you can look forward to it!"
Her parents looked to one another with a knowing look she rarely talked so confidently.
Her grandmother clapped softly, her face glowing with happiness . "My, my… Our Leaf is growing so fast. Talking on stage, moving people's hearts… I'm proud of you, dear."
Leaf's mother suddenly narrowed her eyes with a teasing grin.
"Hmmmm ~ A precious friend, huh?"
Leaf froze, her face going red instantly. "W–Wait—Mom—! Stop! I didn't—! That's just—!"
Her father joined in with a laugh. "Precious friend, huh? I didn't know our daughter had that kind of vocabulary in her."
"Moooom! Daaad! Stoooop ittt!" Leaf squeaked, burying her face in her hands.
Her grandmother chuckled warmly. "Let them tease you, dear. It means they care."
Leaf peeked between her fingers, pouting but smiling despite herself.
Her mother reached out and hugged her lightly. "You did really well today. Whatever you do next, we'll be here cheering you on."
Leaf finally let out a small, shy smile. "...Thanks."
---
In the Oak residence, the smell of freshly cooked dinner lingered as Blue and Gary sat at the table, both boys wearing identical expressions of forced coolness.
Gary crossed his arms with a huff. "Hmph. We'll do way better next time."
Blue nodded with the same attitude. "Obviously. Today was just practice."
Behind them, Daisy giggled softly while drying her hair with a towel. "You two can act all cool, but you did great today! The show was really entertaining. The kids loved it—especially your flying cardboard Fearow."
"And the adults didn't get bored either," Daisy added with a wink. "That's actually impressive."
Their mother chimed in from the side, laughing lightly. "It really was very cute. I also got a great video of it. My cute little boys performing on stage~"
Both boys froze.
Gary's eyes widened. "M–Mom… you didn't—"
Blue choked on his drink. "You WHAT?!"
Their mother proudly held up her phone. "I got the whole thing! A perfect angle, too!"
"DELETE IT, MOM!" the two boys shouted in unison, horrified.
"Nooo~" their mom sing-songed. "I'm sending it to your father later so he can see his talented sons performing."
"MOOOOM—!"
"PLEASE DON'T—!"
Both Blue and Gary practically slid out of their chairs in embarrassment as Daisy broke into laughter, nearly falling over.
"It's fine," she said between breaths. "It was cute! Adorable, even!"
"That makes it WORSE!" Blue groaned.
Their mother only laughed harder as she walked away, phone raised triumphantly like a trophy.
---
Meanwhile, in the stillness of the lab, Professor Oak sat alone in his office. Papers were spread neatly across his desk—lists, forms, reports from researchers across the regions. He paused his writing, leaning back as he gazed out the large window.
The moon's radiance bathed the lab in soft white glow.
He thought of the children's performance earlier—the laughter, the teamwork, the effort shining in their eyes. A fond smile warmed his features.
Softly, he murmured, "Leyn… you and the others truly are stars of the younger generation."
His eyes drifted to the document in his hand.
A list of promising 8-year-olds from different regions—names scouted by various professors. Young talents, each with potential, each destined to shine in their own way. Names of the regions on the sticky note with it the documents of that region.
He began writing "Mentorship Candidates" at the top of a clean sheet, adding notes, possibilities, speculations.
"So many children… all the same age…" he murmured. "Seems like Leyn and his friends will have competition."
But instead of worry, there was excitement in his voice.
"Competition that will forge new bonds… and strengthen the ones already forming," he said gently, watching the moonlight reflect off the page. "Every collision helps them grow."
He chuckled softly, tapping his pen thoughtfully.
"Perhaps… I should tell them tomorrow."
His eyes softened.
"Red and Ash will be coming back—the camp ends tonight. Perfect timing."
He leaned toward the window again, watching the stars as though he were already seeing the future.
"The Academy's Golden era is approaching…" he whispered. "And those children… will stand at the center of it."
The lab remained quiet, save for the soft rustle of papers.