Since this was just a gathering among friends, Jacob felt completely at ease — or rather, he'd felt at ease ever since coming back to Starlight City.
Compared to major hubs like the Imperial Capital or Magic City, Starlight City was a small fourth or fifth-tier town, with a slower pace of life and none of the pressure of the bigger cities. Here, Jacob could set aside Team Rocket and the laboratory for a while, let his subordinates handle things without him, and simply enjoy a relaxed, easy stretch of time.
He leaned back in his chair, one hand resting on the armrest, chatting comfortably with Kyle.
"Amira, Amelia — I'm not one to brag, but I was the very first person to spot Jacob's talent as a Trainer." Kyle's face was already a little flushed from the wine as he addressed the two women. "You probably don't know this, but the first opponent Jacob ever faced, right after catching his first Pokémon, was me. It was my battle that uncovered his talent — the one that eventually led him to become Starlight City's first-ever Champion. Put simply, if Jacob's a thoroughbred, I'm the one who spotted him in the stable."
"That battle shook heaven and earth — sun and moon reversed, mountains crumbling, rivers running backward. We both threw everything we had at each other, and neither of us could pull ahead."
"Jacob's Noibat, with its speed and that nasty Supersonic, pushed my Charmander right to the edge."
"But right at the critical moment, my Charmander grasped the Secret of Flame, learned a move I'll just call Dragon's Breath, and unleashed a legendary burst of Ember that turned the tide and won us the match — barely."
???
Jacob listened to Kyle's bragging with a look of pure confusion on his face. If he remembered right, shouldn't Noibat's Supersonic have made quick work of Charmander? How exactly had that turned into his own Noibat narrowly losing to Charmander in Kyle's retelling?
He glanced at Amira and Amelia beside him and decided the wisest move was to say nothing at all. For the sake of friendship, Jacob was willing to let Kyle have this one. A good brother backs him up when he's showing off — especially when Kyle also happened to be his most devoted wingman.
"Watching that battle, I knew right then that Jacob's future had no ceiling," Kyle went on. "A rookie Trainer holding his own against someone as seasoned as me to a draw? His future was clearly going to outshine mine."
"And you all know what happened after that. Within half a year Jacob had surpassed me completely, tore through the competition at the High School Cup, and walked away with the championship. Not to overstate it, but I'd say I'm responsible for at least thirty percent of that title."
Amira eyed Kyle skeptically before turning to Jacob. "Is any of that actually true?"
True or not? Back then, it hadn't been, not even close.
"True," Jacob said, nodding with a straight face. "If anything, Kyle's being modest. My Charmander only grew so fast because of Kyle's Charmander and its grasp of the Secret of Flame. If I hadn't studied under it for two and a half months, mine never would have come along that quickly."
Amira looked baffled at Jacob's confirmation. She'd never even heard of this so-called Secret of Flame. She turned back to Kyle. "What in the world is the Secret of Flame?"
"The Secret of Flame is—" Kyle finally lost it, breaking into laughter. "Ha! You actually believed that? I made every bit of it up. The only true part is that Jacob's very first battle really was against me."
"That sneaky little troublemaker kept spamming Supersonic to wear me down, and had Noibat flying circles around me the whole time — total dirty tactics." Kyle shook his head, clearly still able to picture it. "Honestly, Jacob, back then I thought you had real Trainer talent, because you fought so shamelessly."
"Best way I can put it — you went at me bare-handed like you were wrestling a tiger, no shame and no fear. Can't help but admire that. Here, have a drink."
Amira, realizing she'd been played, shot Kyle a look but didn't stop him from pouring.
Jacob and Kyle both drained their glasses. Beside them, Amelia picked out some plain vegetables and set them in Jacob's bowl. "Eat some greens too," she said softly. "Too much drinking isn't good for your stomach."
"Sure," Jacob said, picking up his chopsticks and taking a couple of bites.
A moment later, Amelia pulled on a pair of gloves and started peeling shrimp for him, placing each one in his bowl. "Here, eat more. Have some meat too."
"I— I can do that myself," Jacob said, a little overwhelmed by her attentiveness.
"It's fine, just keep talking with Kyle. I can't really join that conversation anyway, so let me help with this instead." Amelia smiled, then picked up a napkin. "Here — let me wipe your mouth."
Watching from the side, Amira's eyes narrowed slightly. This sly little fox really knew how to seize an opening.
"Amelia, come on, let me pour you one." Amira's gaze darted between them before she raised her own glass with a bright smile. "We hardly talk at school, and this is the first time it's just the two of us sharing a meal. Come on, I'll toast you."
"Thank you," Amelia said quietly. "I really can't drink much, though."
"Tolerance is something you build up with practice — hardly anyone's born with it." Amira, fierce as ever, threw back her own glass in one go. "See? Done."
Amelia had little choice but to lift her own glass and drink it down as well.
Watching the exchange, Jacob and Kyle traded a glance and wisely kept quiet.
Seeing Amelia finish her glass without hesitation, Amira looked mildly surprised. "Amelia, you're already gorgeous without any makeup at school, and now you look like you stepped out of a painting. If the boys chasing you saw you like this, they'd lose their minds. And that figure of yours — you never show it off, but everything's exactly where it should be. It's honestly enviable. Come on, one more."
"I— I really can't drink any more," Amelia said, barely letting the wine touch her lips, her brows knitting slightly.
"Don't overthink it, just enjoy yourself. I'll walk you home later if you've had too much," Amira said breezily. Tonight, she'd decided, she was going to show Amelia exactly what a seasoned drinker looked like.
"Amelia…"
As Amira kept the wine flowing, the row of empty bottles on the table kept growing.
Amira's face had turned red, the signs of drunkenness setting in, while Amelia's expression stayed exactly as composed as ever, as if she hadn't touched a drop.
"Amelia… your tolerance is… really something, isn't it."
"Honestly, I'm pretty dizzy too. It just… doesn't show on my face."
...