Part 52

As the excitement from the Junior Cup faded, the loud hum of voices in the school cafeteria filled the air. The clinking of trays, the chatter of students, and the occasional burst of laughter created a familiar atmosphere of midday routine.

Ash, after lingering near the hallway for a bit, finally decided to join his usual table. He slid into an open seat beside Gary, who was already halfway through a sandwich. Across from them sat Clemont, adjusting his glasses while fiddling with some sort of device on the table — typical.

"Well, look who finally decided to sit with us," Gary teased, his trademark smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Thought you were too good for us after that intense battle, huh?"

Ash shot him a look. "Yeah, right. Just needed a minute to think, that's all."

Gary chuckled, shaking his head. "Thinking? Now that's new."

"Funny," Ash deadpanned, though the corner of his mouth twitched. He picked up a burger from his tray, taking a bite.

Clemont glanced up from his gadget. "So, uh... is everyone ready for the next round of matches tomorrow?" His tone was polite, but his gaze shifted toward Ash.

"Guess we'll see," Ash said, his voice steady. "Trip and Cameron's gonna be interesting."

Gary leaned back, sighing dramatically. "Yeah, yeah... speaking of problems, I've got bigger issues."

Ash raised an eyebrow. "What now?"

Gary groaned, rubbing his face. "The school year's almost over, and Rowan's class is killing me. If I don't get my grade up, I'm stuck taking it again over the summer — or worse — next year."

Ash frowned. "You're failing Rowan's class?"

"I'm not failing..." Gary insisted. "Just... teetering on the edge of disaster."

Clemont's expression turned sympathetic. "Professor Rowan can be... intense."

"That's an understatement," Gary muttered. "And don't even get me started on his tests."

Ash took another bite of his burger, eyeing Gary with mild amusement. "Well, maybe you should spend more time studying and less time showing off."

Gary scoffed. "Look who's talking, Mr. 'Wing It And Win It.'"

Across the cafeteria, at a separate table, Serena sat with the other girls — Misty, May, Dawn, Iris, and Leaf — their trays spread out as they picked at their lunches.

"I thought Sawyer was going to lose his mind out there," Misty said, shaking her head as she poked at her salad.

"Did you see how intense Montgomery got?" Dawn added, eyes wide. "I thought they were gonna start fighting right there on the field."

Leaf smirked. "I kinda wish they had. Would've made things more interesting."

Misty rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

Serena wasn't paying attention. Her eyes had drifted toward Ash, watching him as he sat with Gary and Clemont. The way his brows furrowed slightly as he listened to Gary complain about Rowan's class made her heart flutter a little.

"You okay, Serena?" May asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"Huh?" Serena's eyes widened as she snapped back to reality. "Oh, yeah... I'm fine."

Leaf's gaze sharpened as she followed Serena's line of sight toward Ash. She smirked knowingly. "Suuuure you are."

Serena's cheeks turned pink. "It's not like that!"

Leaf's smirk deepened. "Mmhmm."

Misty leaned her chin on her hand. "You could just talk to him, you know."

"It's not that simple," Serena muttered.

"Why not?" Dawn asked, leaning forward.

Serena sighed, her gaze drifting toward Ash again. Because he's Ash, she thought. Because it's always been Ash. And because even though he was finally starting to notice her, the idea of putting her feelings out there — of risking rejection — still scared her more than anything.

"Hey," Leaf said, nudging her shoulder. "Relax. It's Ash. You think he'd ever reject you?"

Serena's smile was small, but genuine. "I guess we'll see."

Across the cafeteria, Ash's gaze drifted toward the girls' table, eyes landing on Serena for a brief moment. She was smiling at something Leaf said, her hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Ash's heart did an odd little flip in his chest.

He shook his head. Focus, Ketchum.

"So what's your plan, Gary?" Clemont asked, bringing Ash's attention back to the table.

Gary sighed. "I don't know. Cheat?"

Ash chuckled. "Yeah, good luck with that. Rowan would probably catch you before you even sat down."

Gary groaned, thudding his head against the table. "I'm doomed."

Just as Gary dropped his head onto the table in defeat, a familiar voice cut through the cafeteria noise.

"You're not the only one," Paul's low, dry tone came from behind them.

Ash looked up to see Paul standing there, arms crossed, his usual scowl in place. He slid into an empty seat next to Ash with the casual ease of someone who had already accepted his fate.

Gary raised his head, eyebrows lifting. "Wait—you're failing Rowan's class too?"

Paul's expression didn't change. "Not failing," he said flatly. "Just... not doing great."

Gary leaned forward, intrigued. "What's the issue? You don't strike me as the type to struggle with schoolwork."

Paul's eyes narrowed. "Rowan's tests are ridiculous. Half of it is stuff that's not even in the material."

"I know, right?" Gary groaned. "It's like he expects us to know the answer before he teaches it."

Paul's mouth twitched — almost a smile, but not quite. "Exactly."

"At least you two aren't alone."

The new voice belonged to Trip, who had wandered over and now stood with his arms tucked behind his back. He wore his usual calm, detached expression, but the tension in his shoulders gave him away. He slid into the seat next to Paul.

"You're failing too?" Ash asked, surprised.

Trip scoffed. "Professor Rowan's class is a trap. The test questions are worded to confuse you on purpose." He rubbed the back of his neck, his jaw tightening. "And the grading curve doesn't help either."

"Thank you!" Gary threw up his hands. "Finally, someone understands!"

Paul and Trip exchanged a rare look of mutual understanding.

"Not sure why you're complaining," Paul said. "You don't have to go through summer school if you fail."

Gary's face twisted. "Summer school?! I'd rather battle Cynthia blindfolded than sit through Rowan's class again all summer!"

"Better start preparing, then," Paul said coolly.

Before Gary could come up with a comeback, a loud crash sounded from the next table over.

"Oh, come on!" Barry's voice cut through the cafeteria.

Barry stumbled toward them, nearly knocking over Clemont's tray as he slid into the seat across from Trip. "What's this about Rowan's class?" he demanded, already looking frazzled.

"We're all failing it," Gary said grimly.

Barry's face lit up like this was fantastic news. "Oh, thank Arceus! I thought I was the only one!"

"You are the only one who acts surprised about it," Paul muttered.

Barry ignored him. "Do you know how hard it is to stay focused in that class?! I try, I swear! But then I'll be thinking about battle strategies, or what I'm gonna have for lunch, or what Pokémon I'm gonna catch next—"

Trip sighed. "Maybe if you paid attention once in a while—"

"I do pay attention!" Barry insisted. "I just... zone out a little bit."

"A little bit?" Paul's tone was sharp. "You're lucky you haven't been kicked out of the class altogether."

Barry waved his hand. "Pfft. Rowan wouldn't kick me out—"

"He nearly did last month when you tried to battle his Staraptor in the middle of class," Trip reminded him.

Barry huffed. "That was a misunderstanding."

"It attacked you," Ash said, smiling despite himself.

"Yeah, but not before I almost took it down!" Barry insisted.

"It wasn't a battle," Trip said. "It was a threat display. You challenged a professor's Pokémon in his own classroom."

Barry shrugged. "Hey, go big or go home."

Gary shook his head, looking at Paul. "So what's your plan? Study harder? Just get lucky?"

Paul's eyes darkened slightly. "I don't rely on luck."

Trip raised an eyebrow. "And yet you're still struggling."

Ash watched the exchange, amused despite himself. Seeing Paul and Trip actually agreeing on something — even if it was frustration over Rowan's class — was strange. But there was also something oddly... reassuring about it.

"Maybe we should all team up," Clemont suggested carefully. "Group study session? If we help each other fill in the gaps, we might figure out Rowan's strategy."

Gary scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Like Paul would ever study with us."

Paul's eyes narrowed. "Don't count me out yet."

Ash raised his eyebrows. "So... you're in?"

Paul's jaw flexed. "I didn't say that."

Barry grinned. "Sounds like you're in!"

Paul rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything else

"Okay, okay," Gary said, standing up and stretching. "Let's revisit this whole study thing later. Right now, I need to figure out how I'm gonna survive today's lecture without losing my mind."

Barry stood as well. "Yeah, same. Rowan's class is gonna be brutal today."

Trip frowned. "It's brutal every day."

—

The hallway leading into Professor Rowan's classroom was unusually loud as the group made their way inside.

"I'm actually in trouble," Gary said, rubbing the back of his neck as he slid into a seat. "I mean, I'm not even sure how I'm supposed to fix this. Rowan's got it out for me."

"You're not alone," Paul said, leaning back in his chair with arms crossed. His face was expressionless, but his tone was sharp. "I'm failing too."

"Same here," Trip muttered. He didn't even sound surprised anymore. "Not even sure why I bother."

"Obviously, I'm failing!" Barry shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "But Rowan's just unreasonable! Did you see the last test? Half of those questions weren't even on the study guide!"

"That's because you didn't read the study guide," Drew said from behind him, looking unimpressed.

Barry scowled. "Yeah, well, that's beside the point."

Ash sat down, arms crossed as he listened to the conversation unfold. He hadn't even checked his latest score in Rowan's class. The truth was, he wasn't sure he wanted to. Judging by the mood around the table, it didn't seem like anyone else had done any better.

From across the room, Leaf leaned toward Serena and whispered, "Is it just me, or is this, like... really bad?"

Serena gave a weak smile. "You think?"

"Maybe they just need to suck up to Rowan a little more," Iris suggested, half-joking.

"Yeah, let me know how that goes," Trip said flatly, already looking annoyed.

It wasn't just about the assignments or the tests. That much was clear. The real problem was that none of them had ever clicked with Rowan, and it showed. Rowan wasn't exactly known for being the most approachable figure — cold, strict, and generally unimpressed with pretty much all of them. And as the school year barreled toward its final stretch, the list of potential flunk-outs was starting to grow alarmingly long.

The bell screeched through the classroom just as the door swung open, and in walked Professor Rowan, a storm cloud of a man wrapped in a white lab coat. His gray hair was slightly more disheveled than usual, and the hard set of his jaw made it clear that he was in no mood for nonsense. The conversations in the room died almost immediately as his sharp eyes scanned the students with the precision of a sniper.

"Take out your study guides," Rowan ordered in a low growl. "You have a unit test coming up. If you fail it, you have no one to blame but yourselves."

A collective rustling of papers followed as the students reluctantly pulled out their study guides. Serena and Leaf were already scribbling down notes. Misty and May were reviewing key points with each other, while Dawn flipped through the pages with a highlighter in hand.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room... well, things weren't going as smoothly.

Barry was leaned over toward Ash, whispering loudly. "Hey, Ash, what's the answer to number four?"

Ash, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, sighed. "I dunno, Barry. I didn't even get to number four yet."

Gary was sitting with his phone under the desk, swiping through it like he wasn't in the middle of class. The dim glow of the screen reflected in his eyes.

Paul had his head down on his folded arms, looking like he was seconds from falling asleep. Trip was in a similar position, face half-buried in the crook of his elbow.

Rowan's gaze narrowed dangerously. His already thin patience evaporated. He slammed his hand down on his desk with a CRACK, startling the room. All heads snapped toward him as the weight of his glare settled over the boys like a storm cloud ready to burst.

"You've got to be kidding me," Rowan said, his voice low and cutting. He stood from his desk, eyes hard as stone. "Look at yourselves. Half of you haven't even started the assignment." His eyes snapped toward Barry and Ash. "I don't care if you don't know the answer — you figure it out. That's why you're here."

Barry sank back in his seat, turning red. Ash frowned but didn't speak.

"And you," Rowan's eyes flashed toward Gary. "Are you seriously on your phone right now?"

Gary's head jerked up. "I—"

"Put it away before I send you up."

Gary slipped his phone into his pocket without another word.

"As for you two," Rowan's eyes burned into Paul and Trip, still slumped over their desks. "Are you seriously going to sleep in my class? After everything you've already failed to accomplish?"

Paul slowly lifted his head, expression blank. Trip's eyes narrowed but he said nothing.

"This is exactly why you're all failing," Rowan said icily. "Because you think you don't have to try. Because you believe that you're too good to follow instructions like everyone else." His tone sharpened. "Spoiled. Arrogant. Entitled."

Ash clenched his jaw. Barry squirmed uncomfortably. Gary's smirk was gone. Paul's stare darkened. Trip's fists were tightening beneath his desk.

Rowan took a step forward, his gaze drilling through them. "You think this is a joke? Keep acting like this, and you'll find yourselves repeating this class next year. Or better yet — don't bother coming back at all."

The room was dead silent.

Rowan's gaze lingered over them one last time before he returned to his desk and sat down.

"You have fifteen minutes to finish the study guide. Don't waste it."

Ash's eyes were sharp beneath the brim of his hat as he looked down at the unfinished guide in front of him.

The room was suffocating under the weight of tension. The sound of pencils scratching against paper filled the air, punctuated only by the occasional cough or the squeak of a chair against the floor. Most of the students were quietly working — Misty's brow was furrowed as she wrote something down, while Serena tapped the end of her pencil against her bottom lip thoughtfully. Leaf leaned toward Dawn to whisper something, but even they kept their voices low, aware of the thin thread of patience Rowan was clinging to.

That patience was about to snap.

Gary sat in the back of the classroom, slouched in his chair, eyes locked on the glowing screen of his phone. His thumb slid across it lazily, a faint click and soft chuckle escaping him.

Professor Rowan's sharp gaze shot toward him instantly.

"Oak." Rowan's voice was low and dangerous.

Gary didn't even look up, his mouth tugging into a smug smirk as his thumb continued scrolling.

"Gary."

Nothing.

Rowan's chair scraped violently against the floor as he stood up, his white lab coat billowing slightly behind him as he stalked toward the back of the room.

"Put it away," Rowan growled, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.

Gary barely glanced up, clearly trying to suppress the smirk stretching across his face. He held up his hands lazily. "Relax, Professor, I'm just—"

"Enough." Rowan's voice sliced through the air like a whip. "Principal's office. Now."

Gary's smile vanished. "Wait— What?"

"You heard me." Rowan's eyes flashed dangerously. "Take your phone and your arrogance with you."

Gary's mouth opened, but whatever protest he was about to voice died in his throat under the weight of Rowan's glare. His lips twisted into an annoyed sneer as he stuffed his phone into his pocket and stood up, chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it back.

Paul, sitting a few rows away, smirked and leaned back in his chair. "Wow. Didn't even last twenty minutes."

Trip chuckled from his seat. "Guess that's some kind of record."

Rowan's head turned toward them.

"Something funny, Mr. Paul? Mr. Trip?"

Paul raised his eyebrows. "Just saying."

Trip snickered.

Rowan's nostrils flared. He took a step toward them, shoulders squared. "You two slackers — out."

Trip's smirk faltered. "What?"

Paul's eyes narrowed. "We didn't even—"

"I don't care." Rowan's tone was like stone. "You want to act like children? Then you can leave like children." His eyes darkened. "Out."

Trip stood, scoffing as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Fine."

Paul rose from his seat, his expression impassive but his eyes sharp with disdain. He shot a brief look toward Gary, who was already leaning against the doorframe with an amused look on his face.

"Come on, Paul," Trip said with a smirk as he passed him. "Let's leave the old man to his lecture."

Rowan's jaw tightened, the muscles in his face straining. "Out."

Trip and Paul filed out of the room, the door clicking shut behind them.

For a moment, there was nothing but suffocating silence. Rowan's gaze lingered on the door before slowly shifting back toward the room. He scanned the remaining students with a hard, assessing glare. Ash sat up straighter beneath the weight of that gaze. Barry was wide-eyed, looking like he was trying not to breathe.

"This... this pattern of behavior? It will not stand."

"This is only your first year of high school," Rowan continued. "And some of you are already walking down the wrong path. I am not here to babysit you. I am here to prepare you for the real world — and in the real world, there are no second chances." His voice sharpened. "You want to fail? Fine. But don't think for one second that I'll let you drag the rest of this class down with you."

Rowan's eyes met Ash's for half a second, and Ash felt his chest tighten. He knew Rowan wasn't wrong — but that didn't make it easier to hear.

"Back to work." Rowan turned sharply, walking toward his desk. "You have ten minutes."

The class slowly exhaled, tension unraveling slightly as the sound of papers rustling and pens scratching returned.

"You want to fail? Fine. But don't think for one second that I'll let you drag the rest of this class down with you."

Ash's knuckles whitened as his fingers curled tighter. His breathing quickened. His chest tightened painfully, heat creeping up the back of his neck. He wasn't dragging anyone down. He wasn't a failure.

Rowan sat at his desk, flipping through papers with the same cold indifference he always wore. Like none of this mattered. Like he didn't matter.

Ash's chair scraped back an inch as he sat forward, his eyes narrowing dangerously. His body tensed, pulse thrumming loud in his ears. He wasn't sure what he was going to do — say something, stand up, demand an explanation — but he was already halfway there.

Until a sharp movement caught his eye.

Calem.

He was sitting just across from him, his elbow propped on the desk, eyes cool and piercing. His hand was pressed to his temple, but his eyes — dark and serious — were locked on Ash. His expression didn't shift, but his gaze sharpened slightly, as if saying, Don't.

Ash's breath hitched.

Calem's gaze didn't waver. His eyes held a quiet warning — one that Ash understood immediately.

You're already walking a tightrope.

Ash's jaw tightened, but his body froze. His fists relaxed — slowly. His heart still hammered against his ribs, but Calem's steady gaze grounded him. Ash forced himself to exhale, the tension in his chest unraveling slightly.

After a moment, Calem's gaze softened.

Ash sank back into his seat, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste metal. He didn't need another strike against him. Not now.

Professor Rowan's gaze flicked toward him briefly, but when Ash didn't move, Rowan returned his attention to the papers in front of him.