"Please line up numerically! You will be announced according to your number!" An attendant with a clipboard called within the tunnel. "Please keep the line moving in a smooth, orderly fashion! Once your name is called, please walk onto the pitch in a timely manner!"

Cramped was an understatement. The tunnel was very clearly meant for a few people at a time, so being shoved into the passage alongside dozens upon dozens of other trainers wasn't a particularly good time for anyone. Cassius included, as he stood as straight as he could amid the crowd.

He didn't have very far to go, considering his number of 713 was much farther back, but he'd still had a grand time waddling his way to the proper spot in line. Hop and Gloria had a much rougher go of it than him. 189 and 313, respectively, saw them closer to the front. It wasn't long before he lost them in the sea of white jerseys. He was on his own now.

Even from his spot in the back, Cassius could hear the swelling roar of the crowd. The reverberations of their stomping reached him, as did their clapping. The faint sound of orchestral music began to play. It was starting.

Multiple TVs had been mounted throughout the tunnel, providing a view of the on-pitch proceedings. Cassius locked on to one as the music died, and a lone figure entered the pitch from a different tunnel. The crowd must have known the man, as they cheered raucously. It was a tough view for Cassius, but he looked like a slightly portly man, in a dapper gray suit. He waved to the crowd as he crossed the field.

The man came to a stop beside another figure—a regal, almost bored-looking woman in professional attire. He blew some more kisses to the crowd, before the sound of a mic clicking on introduced his voice.

"Ladies and gentleman!" The man boomed with a smile. "Welcome, to the 33rd annual Galar region League Challenge!" The crowd erupted once more, slightly shaking the tunnel Cassius stood in. "I am Rose, president of Macro Cosmos, and chairman of the Pokémon League!"

So that was the chairman he'd heard so much about. His dad's boss, technically. He seemed a lot more... outgoing than he'd imagined him to be. He had a very disarming figure and expression. Not that it diminished his status any.

"I know that everyone gathered here, and everyone watching from home have all been waiting for this moment! After another riveting challenge last year, I am proud to continue the tradition of showcasing the very best of Galar again this year!" He raised his arms. "Thank you all for your continued love and support! Our proud region is nothing without you!"

More cheers. The chairman really knew how to play to the crowd, it seemed. "For the past thirty-plus years, we at Macro Cosmos have been proud to help present the region's most exciting circuit of competition. We've borne witness to timeless battles, jaw-dropping moments, and the birth of new heroes. All in the name of promoting our great, champion home! For all the trainers and Pokémon that have come before, and all that will come in the future, let's give them a big hand in building up Galar!" Applause and whistling sounded from all present.

"Now, I bet you'd like to meet our contenders this year," the chairman teased. His pause brought about spots of attendants screeching in confirmation. "But before we begin, I'd like to introduce a special guest to share a few words. You know him quite well!" He gestured to the sky. "Introducing—our unbeatable champion, and the greatest Pokémon trainer in the history of Galar—Leon Dande!"

The crowd was deafening by this point, even from Cassius' spot. The TV cameras turned skyward, and what looked like a flaming comet was quickly descending. A closer look revealed that it was actually a Charizard, engulfing itself in flame. Cassius had already seen Leon's Charizard in-person, albeit briefly, but it was still a sight to behold. It roared as it dove, spinning as it wreathed itself further in flame, before making an explosive landing onto the pitch.

Once the flames dispelled, Leon revealed himself on the Charizard's back, entirely unhurt. With a leap, he landed squarely on the grass, waving at the crowd with a winning smile. Accepting a microphone from the bored lady, his excited voice echoed throughout the stadium.

"Galar!"

The response was palpable. The audience was louder than they'd ever been before. Cassius almost thought the tunnel was about to give out from all the excited stomping.

"So good to see you all again!" Leon's grin turned sheepish. "Was afraid I'd get myself lost again, but Charizard here was able to put me back on the right path—again!" The Charizard huffed while the audience laughed.

"I'm not one for speeches and all that, but this year's a little different." Leon continued. "As I'm sure you're well aware, this year I've sponsored my own trainers for the first time. I figured it was high time I start presenting talent to this great region, and I believe I've done just that."

"Now, I'm sure you're wondering, 'Leon, you loon. Why'd ya go and find trainers that could take your place?' My answer is... well, I didn't actually think of that!" Another round of laughter. "In all honesty, however, it's about fostering the next generation of trainers. For as much as being champion means to me, it's beyond just being the strongest. It means helping our great region be at its very best, through cultivating great trainers, who are also great people."

"What I wanna convey this year, more than anything, is that talent can come from anywhere. It can come from you, me, or anyone. Metropolis or countryside, old or young, whatever or wherever—Galar is a thriving hub of battling that is filled to the brim with talent!" He smiled. "Why, in my case, talent happens to come from as close by as my cheeky blood brother!"

He bowed modestly. "So, this year, more than ever, I hope you'll continue supporting our sensational trainers, who dedicate their entire livelihoods to being the very best for themselves, and Galar."

Leon ended with some flair. He raised a triumphant first. "I've a feeling this year's challenge will be one for history books! Let's make it a champion time, yeah?" The people roared in agreement, raising their fists in a similar manner.

"Thank you, Champion Leon!" Rose applauded. "If your intuition's as keen as your battling skills, I imagine we're in for a wallop of a circuit this year!" He gestured to the opposite tunnel. "Enough of the wait—it's time to meet this year's champion hopefuls!"

"We're on!" The attendant near the front of the line shouted out. "Number twenty-three, you may begin walking!"

The names were called out in relatively quick succession. Not more than a ten second wait between each participant, the line moved fairly fast. As a result, it gave Cassius even less time to psych himself.

In what felt like a flash, he was up. "Number seven-one-three, you may begin walking!" Running on autopilot, Cassius took his first steps into the light.

A booming announcer's voice called out his name to the crowd as he entered view. "Number 713, Cassius Hargreaves." The spectators' hollering swelled, and the cheering returned tenfold. Only, it was entirely directed at him.

The crowd looked full before on TV, but Cassius was stunned by the sheer volume. There had to be tens of thousands of people here. He couldn't spot one empty seat. That didn't even count the millions more watching him on TV. And they were all focused on him. It was beyond overwhelming.

He saw himself walking on the massive jumbotron. He'd done a good enough job of maintaining his outward cool, but he'd be lying if he wasn't freaking out internally. His blood pumped just as loud in his head as the cheers did. His breathing was erratic. His body temperature rose. Still, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. So long as he didn't faceplant, he'd be okay.

Cassius came to a stop beside the shoulder of the person who'd been in front of them. They were apparently lined up on one side of the pitch to face Leon and Rose. The field was so massive that they could easily squeeze all the participants together in one long line.

He blinked, and the introductions were over. Rose's voice boomed again. "One more hand for our challengers!" Another round of cheering. "Galar's Gym Challenge will have these participants aim to defeat our region's eight skilled gym leaders, and collect their eight gym badges! Only then will they be invited to participate in the esteemed Champion Cup—and only one may advance to the Galar League Finals, where they may battle for the right to challenge the champion!"

Rose turned behind him. "And now, your Galar League gym leaders!"

The lights dimmed, and smoke began to pour from one of the entrances onto the pitch. Music began to play, low in pitch so that the chairman's voice could still be heard. Before long, seven figures emerged from the smoke, walking proudly into view.

"Our eight stalwart gym leaders are among the best of the best!" Rose cleared his throat. "Introducing, in order..."

"The fighting farmer, here's Turffield's Grass-type expert, Milo Yarrow!"

"The raging wave, Hulbury's master of Water-types, Nessa Azzurra!"

"The ever-burning man of fire! Motostoke's own Fire-type veteran, Kabu Naboru!"

"The Galar karate prodigy! Nobody's better with Fighting-types than Stow-on-Side's Bea Saitou!"

"The master of a fantastic theater! It's Ballonlea's charming Fairy-type user, Opal Poplar!"

"The hard-rock crusher! Please welcome the Rock-type master from Circhester, Gordie Mac!"

"And last but certainly not least, the tamer of Dragon-types... hailing from Hammerlocke, Raihan Roy!"

They certainly were a cast of characters. Two of them were absolutely massive human beings. One of them looked old enough to keel over and die within the next minute. All of them were seemingly color-coded to match the type of Pokémon they specialized in. It must have been a pain to walk around like that in public.

However, Cassius only counted seven of them, which the chairman quickly addressed. "Unfortunately, Spikemuth's Piers Rosemary wasn't able to attend today, but he sends his regards." Rosemary. What was her name... the goth girl's brother, if Cassius recalled Hop's words correctly.

The gym leaders came to a stop at the halfway line, a fair amount in front of Leon and Rose. "Challengers! Your objectives stand before you—the very best that Galar has to offer. Work hard so that you may honor each leader with a fight they will always remember!"

Rose raised an arm, pointing. "Your journey begins eastward, to Turffield! You will have a month from today to defeat Milo the Grass-type specialist." The one named Milo was one of the aforementioned giants, with a massively bulky body that hardly matched his pudgy and welcoming expression. He waved cordially at the mentioning of his name.

"Know that the road ahead will not be easy, but glory awaits those who will triumph! Trainers, I wish you the very best of luck—may our paths cross in the future." Rose's voice rose. "And with that, the Opening Ceremony is concluded, and this year's Galar League Challenge has officially begun!"

Fireworks started going off in and around the stadium. Pandemonium had broken out among the crowd once more. On the field, the trainers were beginning to be led off of the field by attendants, back into the tunnel they had entered from.

Cassius couldn't help himself. It was stupid, but he felt the urge. He wanted a good view of the people he would hopefully be matching up against in the future. So he turned, sparing one last glance at the line of gym leaders. Just a quick peek was all he needed.

They were all staring back at him. Cassius quickly corrected that train of thought—they were probably just watching all of the trainers leave in that orderly line. They would have all been looking in his general direction if that was the case. It couldn't be helped.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that some of them were staring at him specifically. The one named Raihan in particular—the other behemoth of a man—turned a smirk once his eyes landed on Cassius.

Maybe they were just scouting out the competition. They had a right to, in any case. They'd want to know who they would be pitted against throughout the circuit too, right? All of the gym leaders were probably aware of his status as Leon's endorsed trainer by now. Only natural they'd be curious.

But, as the ceremony ended, and the fireworks drowned out the thumping of blood in his own head, all Cassius Hargreaves could think about was the massive target he had painted on his back.

He'd been yanked aside none-too-gently once he reached the edge of the tunnel. An attendant motioned for him to follow closely behind. "This way, mister Hargreaves. Your media session will begin soon."

Oh, right. He'd completely forgotten about that. "Thanks," he managed to choke out, allowing himself to be led down another narrow corridor.

When Cassius pictured a media session, he imagined a long media stand that he'd sit behind, in front of a few reporters and camera people. Not too different from other athletes' pressers in different sports. Granted, he surmised this session would have quite a few media people on hand, given his sudden popularity.

True to that, the room he was led to was packed with people. Men and women in professional attire, with cameras at the ready, seated in neat orderly rows. A quick look at the stand revealed a microphone in front of his seat for him to project into.

Only, it was just his stand. His was one among five, and he was apparently the last to show up. Gloria had claimed the middle of their row, as was natural. To her left was Hop. That marked the end of people he knew—next to Hop, furthest to the left, was the annoying teen in the purple-ish longcoat, still wearing a smug expression. The empty seat to Gloria's immediate right was empty, likely reserved for him, while furthest right was the girl they'd met at the Budew Drop lobby yesterday.

Without a word, Cassius trudged to his spot, taking his seat. The scary woman to his left didn't deign it necessary to greet him, and the scary woman to his right was silent too. So far, so good.

"Alright, let's get started." A woman standing out of the way of all the reporters announced. "Paul, you're first."

"Thanks. Paul Mozzarelli, Wyndon Chronicle." A shorter man near the front spoke, recorder at the ready. "Hop, there are obvious expectations to live up to, with your brother being the champion. Is that something that sticks with you, or are you more indifferent to it?"

So Hop would be the first to go. If he was at all nervous, he sure didn't convey it in his answer. "Hello everyone, nice to meet you and all. S'my first time doing this, but I hope to be seeing you all plenty throughout the year."

"To answer your question, I mean, it's kinda unavoidable. I've been getting compared to Lee since I was first starting out as a trainer. It'll always be somethin' that sticks with me—he sets a high bar." He smiled. "But, I'm used to it. It doesn't bother me. Once I start making my way through the challenge, I'll make a name for myself."

Was he sure he wasn't media trained? That was as diplomatic and benign an answer he probably could have given. Authentic, too.

"Laura," the mediator called. The next reporter spoke up. "Hi, Laura Parnelle, Galar National Newsletter. A question for Cassius."

His stomach clenched. No way out of this one. The hopefully nice and friendly reporter continued with her question. "First, warm welcome to Galar. What're your first impressions of the region?"

Oh. That wasn't that hard of a question. Still, he opted to choose his words carefully. "Thanks for the welcome. Good to, uh, meet everybody." Good, his voice still worked.

"Galar's been cool. Really nice folks, pretty friendly. Been a bit of a blur, honestly, but I've been taking in what I can." He needed to say something that appeased the locals. "I'm excited to travel around and experience this great region."

Treat it like a conversation, he reminded himself. Luckily, his answer seemed to placate the reporter enough. "Thank you." She continued. "You're a bit of a unique case, Cassius. Most rookie trainers are well-documented prior to their introduction to the circuit. You have very little by way of readily available information. So, for all of the curious fans out there—who are you?"

Well, he'd jinxed himself. This was like when he'd had to reintroduce himself to Hop and Gloria, only way, way worse. Now he had to make himself sound interesting to an entire continent.

But he couldn't very well lie. Well, lie any more than he already had, anyway. He'd lie himself into a corner at the rate he was going. So, he'd have to settle for an answer that was less of a lie, and more of an... untruth.

"It's... hard to answer with a word or two," he started. "I guess the simplest way to describe who I am is to say that I'm a bit all over the place. Sometimes I overthink a lot, sometimes I don't think enough. Arriving here and relearning a lot of stuff has made that pretty obvious to me."

"The media attention's been a lot to take in, and I honestly feel like it's all a bit overblown. Oh, uh, no offense to you guys," he quickly amended. "I'm a pretty regular guy. Outside of Pokémon battling, anyway. I like basketball, I don't dress up all that much, and I hate waking up early. The battling is obviously a passion, but it isn't something that I think solely defines me, if that makes sense."

He thought that was a better answer than the one he gave a few days ago. He hoped the press thought so, too. The woman ended her turn, and another quickly took her place. "Hey, Cassius. Thanks for taking the time. How would you describe your battling style, if you're comfortable sharing?"

"Well..." Another tough question. He thought back to what Hop and Gloria had told him about how he would have to battle, if he wanted to keep up with the veterans and pros. A style that was so stupid, it was impossible to predict. "I can't say too much, but I'll admit that it isn't conventional. I want to keep my opponents guessing. In a word, unorthodox."

"And how does your party fit into that equation?"

Cassius was seeing the plot now. They were definitely squeezing him for information. It made sense, since they knew so little about him, but did anybody ever actually go out of their way to reveal everything about how they battled?

In any case, he didn't have to acquiesce to everything they asked of him. One non-answer wouldn't hurt, right? "You'll just have to wait and see."

"Next up, Kate."

"Kate McCarthy, Daily Galarian. For Gloria—is there any urgency to separate yourself from a top-heavy rookie class early on?"

Thank Arceus, he was done for a bit. Gloria took over. "Nah. I only measure myself against my own progress. Don't pay much of a mind to the rest. 'Sides, won't matter once I become champ."

Wow, that was a bold claim. Her conviction sounded so certain aloud, Cassius was almost inclined to believe her. The reporter continued with a lighter tone. "And is Leon aware of that?"

Gloria smirked. "He knows he's just keepin' the seat warm for me." Gloria and Hop both had come across very strongly, considered it was their first time in front of reporters. He only hoped his answers didn't stand out as much compared to him.

He'd nearly missed the next question, and luck saw that it wasn't directed at him. "Marnie, you're being called one of most highly-touted and skilled trainers to come out of Galar in decades, not unlike your brother. Is there a pressure to live up to the hype?"

Not too dissimilar of a question to the one they'd asked Gloria. Through their limited interactions, however, Marnie seemed much more milquetoast than the other young woman on the podium. Cassius knew it was likely unwise to stick his nose in the business of other competitors, but he couldn't help his curiosity. She was sitting right next to him, anyway.

"Not really," Marnie's soft voice projected with the help of her microphone. "Any win for me's a win for Spikemuth. I'm confident in my abilities as a trainer—I can go toe to toe with any of 'em." For a moment, Cassius thought he saw her gaze flicker to the rest of the trainers on the podium. Which naturally included him.

"And do you plan on utilizing only Dark-types during the circuit?"

"I do." Huh. People did reveal their strategy during media sessions.

"How vulgar," a voice drawled. It wasn't from any of the press—it was from the podium. The arrogant teen with the pompous pinkish longcoat, Bede.

Marnie didn't seem outwardly put-off, but her voice more than conveyed her displeasure. "Care to run that again, mate?"

"Are you hard of hearing? I called it vulgar," Bede repeated without pause. "I can understand committing yourself to type specialization, but to nasty Dark-types, of all things? The common bug could dispatch one without much fuss."

Holy shit, they were beefing. In front of the press. And he was right in the middle of it.

"Awfully big prattle for a trainer without even a single official win," Marnie shot back. "I do believe there's a word for your situation—nepotism."

That seemed to strike a nerve. "The chairman's endorsement is the highest honor any trainer could hope to receive, and I'll have you know I earned it. Not that you'd know what that's like, considering your endorsement was from that backwater cesspit Spikemuth, you kern."

Cassius could feel the temperature drop to his right. Would it be poor etiquette to leave right now? He looked to Hop and Gloria in a silent plea for help—the former was in a similar state of uneasy shock, while the latter was eyeing her nails with disinterest.

Marnie bristled as Bede continued. "In any case, prior victories hardly matter now. Average Joe from Unova there doesn't have any documented wins either, but the champion still gave him an endorsement. I don't see anyone up in arms about that."

Cassius' breath caught in his throat. He was definitely talking about him. Farewell, low profile.

There was no way any of the reporters would intervene—this was a gold mine of content for them. He'd have to talk his way out. But how?

"H-hey man, what's your deal?" He didn't come off nearly as strong as he wanted to. His voice nearly cracked, and he stuttered. No going back now, as Bede directed his ire at him. "What, taking her side?"

Honestly, yes. She seemed nice and well-mannered (if a little weird), and Bede was an asshole. It was obvious whose side he would take, if it came down to it. Beyond that, however, Cassius himself owned a Dark-type. He was well aware of the stereotypes surrounding them. It wasn't uncommon for people to shy away from Hyla whenever they went out in public, or for them to give her uncomfortable looks. It didn't help that she was a Dragon-type on top of that, thought to be unruly and feral.

Dark-types got bad raps, and it wasn't really fair. And who was Bede to look down on them, anyway?

"I'm not taking sides, but I will say that you sound really insecure right now."

Bede's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

Everyone's attention was on him now. Gloria had stopped fiddling with her nails. Hop was giving him a very pointed look. Probably imploring him not to say anything stupid. He'd try his best not to. "Pokémon trainers win with their favorites, regardless of type, right?" That was as nearly universal a lesson as the Golden Rule back when he was a kid, when everybody dreamed of being a trainer. "To write an entire typing of Pokémon off just because of some false stereotype... well, I think it's silly."

"I have—er, I recently caught a Deino. And I'm gonna compete with her. I think she's strong, obviously, but I also think she's sweet, and considerate. She's a great partner to have, and I'll prove it during the challenge. And I think you'll change your mind about Dark-types."

There. That was good, right? A little bit of an ultimatum, admittedly, but for being put on the spot, he didn't think it was bad. Not too confrontational, not too meek.

He didn't think it was much of anything, but one look at Bede made him rethink that. He was seething, for lack of a better term. Eyes glaring daggers, teeth grit, the entire thing. Any more retorts and steam might have started coming out of his ears.

The mediator, mercifully, got the session back on track. "Alright, that's enough. Let's continue the questions, yes?" They were still going? An entire argument wasn't enough for them all?

He was, thankfully, not called on again. Maybe the reporters had already met their quota of quotables from him. He wasn't complaining.

So, he settled for staring down at his little microphone, thinking. Thinking over what he had said. He'd be fine, wouldn't he? It was just a little disagreement, and one little quote. They were his honest thoughts, anyway. He'd defended Hyla's honor, in a way. That was worth speaking up for.

He nodded his head. Yeah, he'd be fine.

Posting this a day late. My bad.