Chapter 2 – History
Rowens City No. 8 High School had four dorm buildings, each shaped like a "U." Three of them were painted white and black, looking fairly plain like standard teaching buildings but a bit nicer than Jason remembered from his old world.
Each building had eight floors with forty rooms per floor, most packed to capacity.
The fourth building was completely different reserved for students in the Pokémon program.
Their own dorm was on the far left side of campus. Leaving the building, they'd pass Dorm 2 and Dorm 3 before reaching the cafeteria.
Rows of willow trees swayed in the morning breeze outside, mingling with the faint fragrance of flowerbeds.
Stepping out, Jason breathed in the fresh air. Students bustled past in matching No. 8 High uniforms, radiating youthful energy.
The uniforms here were similar to his old world's baggy and loose, mainly blue-and-white, and ugly as sin.
But they'd been improved a bit more fitted, with extra color options: black-and-white, blue-and-white, and red-and-white. They looked a lot better now.
Of course, that wasn't the main point. As they walked, Pachirisu perched on Charles' shoulder, looking all around.
Suddenly, it leapt down and pounced on a Nidoran♀ ahead, tumbling with it playfully.
The Nidoran♀'s owner a thin boy with glasses looked up.
"Morning, Frank," Jason called. "You're up early."
Frank adjusted his glasses and scooped up Nidoran♀. "Finals are coming I'm heading to class to review."
Pachirisu hopped back onto Charles' shoulder, watching other students and Pokémon pass by.
Morning on campus was full of life. Many students had brought their Pokémon along.
They passed Pikachu, Pichu, and Vulpix; spotted Caterpie, Butterfree, Oddish, and Bellsprout in the grass.
Overhead flew Pidgey, Pidgeotto, Starly, Pidove, and Taillow. In the central fountain, Poliwag and Marill splashed about.
There was no school rule forbidding Pokémon in the dorms, so many students chose to live with theirs.
Ben sighed enviously. "If I wasn't saving my first choice for my starter, I'd totally get a cute one to keep and cuddle."
Jason nodded in agreement. Ever since arriving, he'd wanted a Pokémon, but Alliance regulations stated you could only officially receive one as a Trainer after turning sixteen and choosing your specialization in the second year of high school.
He'd waited this long, but the wait was almost over. Tomorrow was Saturday he'd be going home that afternoon.
His dad had already told him his starter Pokémon was ready.
After breakfast, the six of them headed to the third floor of Building A, to Class 1-3.
The classroom was exactly as you'd picture it—an old reddish-brown podium, a blackboard with faint chalk marks, and rows of four desks pushed together in uneven lines.
Each row had about seven groups, nearly sixty desks in total. On the back blackboard was a beautifully drawn mural featuring Charizard and Incineroar.
That mural was the work of Charles and Ben Charizard and Incineroar were Ben's favorites.
The moment they stepped inside, the familiar blend of smells hit Jason books, chalk, dust, and… well, people.
Jason sat in the middle of the fourth row, right by the window—perfect for gazing outside during class.
First-year desks were still tidy unlike the mountains of books and papers in third year. Only a few people had their textbooks on top.
With finals only twenty days away, a dozen students were already reading when they walked in.
Feeling the tense atmosphere, Jason picked up his own book and began memorizing key points.
Time passed quickly, and before he knew it, his seatmate had arrived.
She was petite, with large eyes and a cute, slightly chubby-cheeked face. Her voice was soft and sweet until you got to know her. With friends, she'd show her true, feisty self, and anyone who tried to mess with her got roasted on the spot.
Her name was Chloe Carter. They'd been desk mates for a semester now.
In his old life, they'd been classmates but never sat together—just ordinary acquaintances.
Now, after three months, they were friends.
She ran up holding a carton of milk and a piece of bread, breathless. "Whew good thing I ran,
or I'd have been late!"
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