The Scholarship Exam

The morning of the scholarship exam felt surreal. After two years of relentless work, sleepless nights, and endless study sessions, it was all coming down to this moment. The orphanage was buzzing with nervous energy. The kids who'd been selected for the test were led by Marta through the streets of Jubilife to the Poké Center. There were seven of us in total, each of us secretly hopeful that we'd be the one to escape the endless drudgery of orphanage life.

The Poké Center's exam hall was sterile and bright. The kind of place that reminded you this was serious business—something that wouldn't be swayed by luck or smiles. The judges were at the front, three adults with serious faces and clipboards. They didn't even look up when we came in; they were too busy reading through their notes. They looked like they'd seen it all before, just another batch of orphans hoping for a break.

Names were called one by one, and each kid went up to be tested on their Pokémon knowledge, general abilities, and, as far as I could tell, their determination. I sat there, fidgeting, my fingers tapping against my knee, until finally, I heard it: "Jack."

My heart skipped a beat. I stood up, walking toward the booth at the front. The examiner sat across from me—an older man with a thin mustache, his tired eyes barely glancing up at me before he began. He shuffled his papers, then cleared his throat.

"All right, Jack," he said, his voice echoing slightly in the quiet room. "We're going to start with some basic type matchups. Tell me, what would be the best type to use against a Grass/Poison Pokémon like Roselia?"

I blinked for just a second before answering. "Fire or Psychic. Fire because it's strong against Grass, and Psychic because it counters the Poison type."

The examiner nodded, not giving anything away in his expression. "Correct. Now, what if you were battling a Gyarados? Which type would you be wary of using, and which type would give you the upper hand?"

"Electric would be the best choice," I answered confidently. "Gyarados is Water and Flying, so Electric moves are four times effective. I'd avoid using Ground—it wouldn't affect Gyarados at all because of the Flying typing."

The examiner made a small note on his clipboard. He looked up at me, his gaze a bit sharper now, as if he was starting to pay more attention.

"Let's move on. Scenario-based question: You're traveling with a Pokémon that has the ability to use Flash, but you don't have any other Electric moves in your team, and you come across a Dark type trainer. How do you handle the battle?"

I paused for a moment, thinking it over. "If my Pokémon can't do direct damage with Electric moves, I'd look at what support moves they have. Flash can lower accuracy, so I'd use it to make the opponent's Pokémon less likely to land hits. Then, I'd switch to a Fighting or Bug type if I had one, since both are super effective against Dark types."

The examiner nodded again, and I thought I saw the smallest hint of a smile tug at his lips. "Good answer," he said. "Now let's talk about Pokémon care. You're out in the wild with a Fire Pokémon like Growlithe, and it gets a wound during a battle. You don't have any potions on hand—how would you handle the situation?"

I took a deep breath, my mind going over everything I'd read about survival. "First, I'd need to find a way to disinfect the wound. If I had any clean cloth or water, I'd use that to wash it. Then, I'd try to create a makeshift bandage—maybe using strips of cloth from my clothes. Since Growlithe is a Fire type, I'd keep it warm through the night to prevent it from going into shock. If there are berries around, I'd look for Oran berries to help with healing."

The examiner watched me, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than before. He nodded, making another note. "Correct. A practical approach."

He shuffled the papers again, his eyes not leaving mine this time. "All right, Jack. Last set of questions—this one is about tactics. Imagine you're up against a trainer who has a Lucario—a Fighting and Steel type. You have a Normal type Pokémon and a Psychic type Pokémon available to you. How would you approach this battle?"

I felt a smile tug at the corner of my mouth. This was the kind of scenario I'd spent so many nights thinking about. "First, I'd need to avoid putting the Normal type in danger. Lucario's Fighting moves would be super effective, and I'd be at a serious disadvantage. Instead, I'd go with the Psychic Pokémon. Lucario's Steel typing doesn't resist Psychic, and I'd have the advantage against its Fighting moves. But I'd also keep an eye out for Dark Pulse or other Dark type moves—those could turn the battle against me."

The examiner raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed this time. He nodded slowly, then set his clipboard aside. "You've done well, Jack. You've passed. You'll now have the opportunity to select a starter Pokémon."

My heart leapt into my throat. The examiner gestured for me to follow him to the table at the front of the room, where three Poké Balls rested in neat rows. As he pressed the buttons, the balls opened, releasing the Pokémon in flashes of light. There they were—Starly, Kricketot, and Bidoof. All of them standard choices, perfectly good in their own ways. They looked up at me, their eyes curious, and I felt the excitement drain out of me, replaced by a gnawing disappointment.

These were fine Pokémon, but they weren't what I needed. I'd spent too long trying to claw my way out of the ordinary, trying to find a way to stand out, and none of these Pokémon would do that. I needed something that could push me further, that could make a real difference.

I looked at the examiner, my hands clenching at my sides. "Are these the only choices?" I asked, my voice even, but my heart pounding.

The examiner's eyes narrowed slightly. "These are the standard starters for beginners. They are reliable, well-suited for someone who has yet to prove themselves in the field."

I swallowed, feeling the other kids' eyes on me. I knew I was making a scene, and I could practically hear Marta's voice in my head telling me to just take what I was given and be grateful. But I couldn't. Not now. Not after everything.

"I understand that," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "but I need something different. Something stronger. Something that will give me a real edge."

The examiner's expression hardened, and he glanced at his colleagues, who were now watching me with a mix of curiosity and disapproval. "You want something stronger?" he repeated, his tone edged with incredulity. "You think you deserve more than what we're offering?"

I held his gaze, my pulse hammering in my ears. "I'm not saying I deserve it without proving myself. But I want the chance to earn it. I need a Pokémon that matches my determination."

For a moment, the room was utterly silent. The examiner looked at me, and I could see the disapproval in his eyes, but also something else—maybe a glimmer of respect. He shook his head slightly, a small sigh escaping him.

"These are the choices available," he said finally. "If you can't accept them, then perhaps this opportunity isn't for you."

I felt a knot tighten in my chest, but I nodded. I turned away from the table, ignoring the whispers and the confused stares of the other kids. If they were only willing to offer me the ordinary, then I'd have to find a way to get what I needed on my own.

As I walked out of the exam hall, I felt the frustration boiling inside me. I'd worked so hard for this, but the options they were offering me wouldn't be enough. Not for what I wanted, not for the future I was planning. They were asking me to settle, and I refused.

Back at the orphanage, Marta shot me a disapproving look when I returned without a Poké Ball in hand. She didn't ask any questions, and I was glad for that. I didn't want to explain myself, didn't want to tell her why I'd walked away from the one opportunity we were all supposed to want.

That night, I lay on my cot, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. I couldn't accept the ordinary. I needed something more. Something that would make all of this worth it. And if that meant finding a different way, then that's exactly what I was going to do.

I didn't know yet where to begin, but I knew one thing for certain: I wouldn't let myself be limited by what they thought I should have. If I wanted something extraordinary, then I would find it myself—no matter how hard it would be.