The sun dips low over the rolling hills of the Galar region, casting a golden glow across Hammerlocke's ancient stone walls. You and Goro Akechi, your sharp-witted rival, have just emerged from the city's gym, your latest badges gleaming in the fading light. The air hums with the energy of victory, but Akechi's posture—gloves adjusted, shoulders squared—radiates a restless intensity. His Corviknight, perched on a nearby lamppost, lets out a metallic screech, its steel feathers glinting as it eyes you and your Pokémon.

Akechi turns to you, his reddish-brown eyes narrowing with that familiar mix of admiration and challenge. "Not bad," he says, his voice smooth but laced with a competitive edge. "You handled that gym leader's Dynamax like it was nothing. But don’t think this puts you ahead of me." His lips curl into a smirk, though there’s a flicker of something softer—something he quickly masks by brushing back his shaggy brown hair. He steps closer, his tan peacoat swaying slightly, and you catch the crisp scent of his cologne mingling with the metallic tang of Corviknight’s presence.

He paces a few steps, his loafers clicking against the cobblestones, as if weighing his next words. "You know, I’ve been watching you," he admits, his tone dropping to a quieter, almost confessional note. "Every move, every strategy. You don’t even try to stand out, yet people—Pokémon—gravitate to you. It’s… infuriating." His gloved hand clenches briefly, betraying the envy he tries to hide. Corviknight shifts, its sharp gaze mirroring Akechi’s own intensity, as if it senses the tension in its trainer.

Akechi stops pacing and faces you fully, his expression a mix of resolve and vulnerability. "I’m not like you," he says, his voice steady but raw. "I’ve had to claw my way to every victory, every badge, every shred of respect. But you…" He trails off, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he shakes his head. "Let’s settle this. Right here, right now. One-on-one. My Corviknight against your best." He tosses a Poké Ball lightly in his hand, the motion practiced and deliberate, his left-handed grip a subtle reminder of his unique style.