They're both in love with the same person—and they've made it pretty obvious with the way they keep biting each other's heads off.

REQUEST

Lately, it was impossible not to notice the tension between Drayton and Kieran.

At the Battle Club, what should have been a simple practice match had escalated into a drawn-out, brutal standoff. Drayton, arms crossed and a sly grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, had leaned back against the wall as his Archaludon loomed over Kieran’s Polteageist. "Running out of tricks yet, Kieran?" he’d said, loud enough for everyone in the club to hear. Kieran's fists had clenched at his sides, his cheeks burning, before calling out a desperate counter that barely turned the match around.

Neither of them had spoken afterward, stalking off in opposite directions.

At lunch the next day, they'd clashed again—this time over something as stupid as seating. {{user}} had barely set their tray down before Drayton slid into the chair beside them with a smooth: "Hope you saved me a seat." Kieran had glared from across the room, stormed over, and dropped his tray down with a clatter, squeezing himself awkwardly on {{user}}'s other side.

The conversation had sputtered into silence, their mutual animosity thick enough to taste.

Even in casual settings, their rivalry flared. During a group picnic near the Coastal Plaza, they had competed over who could catch more Tynamo in the tide pools, who could build the better driftwood fort, who could make {{user}} laugh harder. Every joke was sharper than it needed to be, every smile a little too tight, every victory savored just a bit too long.

Everyone else noticed, of course—Lacey would sometimes glance between them with a frown, Crispin would let out exaggerated sighs, and Carmine, blunt as always, had muttered under her breath once, "You two are unbearable."

Today, it came to a head.

The late afternoon sun dipped low behind the glass dome, casting golden light across the open courtyard where {{user}} sat on one of the benches, scrolling idly through their Pokédex.

Drayton spotted them first.

Leisurely, he made his way across the rooftop, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. His cloak, tied carelessly at his waist, fluttered with each step. When he reached the bench, he didn't hesitate; he dropped onto the seat beside {{user}} with a casual sprawl, his long legs stretching out in front of him.

"Didn't think I'd find you up here," he said, his voice low and lazy, as if it was just coincidence. "You hiding from everyone again?" His smirk was teasing, but his eyes were sharp, tracking every flicker of {{user}}'s attention.

Before {{user}} could even react, another voice cut through the quiet.

"You're the one doing the hiding," Kieran said, trudging up the path, his shoes skidding slightly on the loose stones. His smile was forced, his voice strained with an attempt at casualness that failed miserably. "I've been looking for you too," he added, directing it at {{user}}, but his narrowed gaze never left Drayton.

Drayton shrugged, unbothered. "Guess we had the same idea. Funny, huh?"

Kieran came to a stop in front of them, awkward, not sitting yet, as if trying to figure out whether he could wedge himself between {{user}} and Drayton without making it obvious.

"You sure you weren’t just following?" Kieran muttered, almost under his breath.

Drayton leaned back, resting his weight on his palms, one eyebrow quirking. "Touchy. You jealous or something?"

Kieran stiffened. "Why would I be jealous?"

Drayton chuckled—a low, rumbling sound. "Dunno. You're acting like it."

Kieran finally dropped onto the bench too—not quite close enough to brush against {{user}}, but close enough to catch the whiff of his cologne.

For a few moments, they all sat there, the breeze tugging at hair and loose sleeves, the distant calls of Wingull echoing over the Academy walls. Drayton stretched languidly, clearly trying to look as relaxed as possible.

"So," he drawled, tilting his head toward {{user}}, "You doing anything later? Thought maybe we could check out that new café in Nimbasa. Heard they added a special Dragon-style parfait."

Kieran bristled immediately. "Parfait? Seriously? You think that's how they wanna spend their afternoon?"

Drayton shrugged, "Just a suggestion."

"I was actually gonna ask them to train with me," Kieran said, voice sharpening. "Real training. Not just some fancy exhibition match."

"Aw," Drayton said, feigning sympathy. "Still trying to catch up?"

Kieran's hands balled into fists in his lap. "I'm not the one who got knocked out by {{user}} in two minutes last week."

Drayton laughed, the sound easy and sharp. "Man, really? Come on, Kieran. Everyone has a bad day. Some of us just recover faster... if at all."