The bright lights of the Hearthome Contest Hall were finally behind us. After the flashing cameras, the endless handshakes from Mr. Contesta, and the dizzying whirlwind of the award ceremony, the quiet of the hotel hallway felt like a cool breeze on a summer day. I didn't even stop to talk to the other competitors in the lounge; I just slipped through the back exit, pulled my hat low, and made a beeline for our room.
Winning the Hearthome Ribbon was a massive milestone, but right now, my feet were barking louder than a herd of Blitzle.
"We're back," I exhaled, the heavy oak door of the hotel suite clicking shut behind me. The room was spacious, overlooking the glowing, twilight-streaked skyline of Hearthome City, but it felt empty until I reached for my belt.
"Everyone! Come on out! We have a lot to celebrate!"
I released the catches on the Poké Balls one by one. In a series of white light flashes, the room was suddenly bustling with life.
"Florette! (Dinner time? Is it dinner time?)"
Floette hovered near the window, her little flower swaying as she did a quick lap around the ceiling fan. Her eyes were already sparkling with the anticipation of a gourmet feast.
"Sylveeee~ (Finally, some peace and quiet...)"
Sylveon stepped out with her usual grace, but her ribbons were drooping slightly. She'd been training like a maniac at Fantina's Gym over the past few days, helping me prep for the Ghost-type challenges, and she was clearly running on fumes.
"Togepri-pri-pri! (We won! We actually won!)"
Togepi was the most energetic of the bunch, hopping onto the coffee table and doing a victory lap. He was still wearing the pride of his performance on his face, his little arms waving in the air as if he were still standing in front of the cheering thousands.
"Woof!"
Growlithe landed with a heavy thud on the carpet, immediately assuming a defensive posture as he scanned the room for "threats." Once he realized we were just in the hotel, he sat back on his haunches, though he still kept his ears perked up like a proper K-9 officer on duty.
I squatted down, looking at each of them with a wide, genuine smile. "You guys were amazing today. Especially you, Togepi—you worked so hard out there. That ribbon belongs to you just as much as it does to me. To celebrate our third ribbon, I'm going to prepare the biggest meal you've ever seen! No expense spared!"
"Flo-flo-floette! (A big meal!)" (★ ᴗ ★)
Floette's eyes literally turned into stars. If there was one thing she loved more than sunbathing, it was my experimental cooking.
"Sylveon~ (In that case, I'm taking a pre-feast nap...)"
Sylveon let out a massive, contagious yawn. She didn't even wait for a reply before she hopped onto the plush king-sized bed. She curled up right next to the incubator holding the still-unhatched Exeggcute egg, her feelers wrapping around it protectively.
Hehe~ It's been so many days since I got to sleep on a real bed with Julian, Sylveon thought as she drifted off, her nose twitching. Everything smells like Julian's scent here. It's so much better than that drafty Gym floor.
Within seconds, she was out like a light, her rhythmic breathing the only sound in the room.
"Togepri-pri! (Celebration feast! Celebration feast!)"
Togepi was still vibrating with excitement, bouncing over to Growlithe. "Woof! (Well done, little fellow. You didn't embarrass the squad.)"
Growlithe gave Togepi a rare, approving nod. He had watched the match from his ball, and even a "stony-hearted" law enforcement dog like him had to admit the kid had talent. Plus, Togepi winning meant Julian was in a good mood. And a good-mood Julian meant high-quality protein.
As Growlithe thought about the steak Julian usually made, a stray bit of drool escaped the corner of his mouth. He quickly licked it away, looking embarrassed.
Slurp~
Hmph! Just because the food this guy makes is world-class doesn't mean I've forgotten my mission, Growlithe thought, trying to harden his expression. He's still suspicious. Nobody cooks that well without hiding something. I'll catch him in a lie sooner or later, and when I do, I'm sending him straight to the station! (▼ へ ▼ メ)
Growlithe shook his head vigorously, trying to firm his resolve. Lately, every time it was mealtime, he found himself struggling with this internal battle. He would growl at the food, then eat it, then feel guilty for enjoying it, then growl again.
I watched him from the kitchenette, feeling a bit puzzled. "What's up with him? Is his neck stiff?"
I'd been trying to synchronize my Aura with Growlithe for weeks, but the dog was like a lead vault. He was stubborn, professional, and seemingly immune to my attempts at "buddy-buddy" bonding. I'd asked Sylveon to translate his growls before, but she just gave me a look that said, 'You don't want to know.'
"Alright, I'm heading into the kitchen," I announced, rolling up my sleeves. "Floette, stay out of the cupboards! Togepi, try not to break anything!"
As the kitchen door swung shut, the room settled into a cozy afternoon rhythm.
Floette drifted over to the balcony window, spreading her petals to catch the last rays of the setting sun. Sylveon was snoring softly on the bed, her ribbons twitching as she chased Dream-World Rattatas. That left Togepi and Growlithe on the floor.
"Woof~ (Seriously, kid, you did good out there,)" Growlithe barked softly, relaxing his posture.
"Togepri-pri! (Thank you, Dog-Brother!)"
Growlithe's face immediately fell. His ears flattened against his skull.
"Woof... -_- | | (Can you please... just once... not call me Dog-Brother?)"
He had corrected the little egg-Pokémon at least fifty times since they started traveling together. He'd suggested "Growlithe," "Officer," "Lieutenant," or even "Big Bro." But Togepi, in all his innocent, egg-shelled glory, seemed to have "Dog-Brother" hard-coded into his vocabulary.
"Togepri? (But Dog-Brother is a dog, and he's like a brother, right?)" Togepi tilted his head, a giant metaphorical question mark appearing over his head.
Growlithe let out a long, suffering sigh. May Officer Jenny protect me... I hope this kid grows out of this. If the guys back at the K-9 academy heard me being called 'Dog-Brother' by an egg in a diaper, I'd never live it down.
He slumped onto his belly, putting his paws over his nose. He was too tired to argue. He just wanted the food. He wondered if he'd ever be able to communicate his feelings to another Pokémon. He felt so alone in his professional struggle.
Little did Growlithe know, Julian—the "criminal" he was watching—often felt the exact same helplessness when trying to talk to him. In a weird way, the human and the dog were perfectly synchronized in their mutual frustration; they just hadn't realized it yet.
"Togepri? (Is Dog-Brother okay?)"
"Woof... woof-woof. (I'm fine. I'm just... thinking. Thinking about what the Cook is making. He said it was a 'big meal.')"
Growlithe's ears perked up again as a sudden, heavenly scent began to waft through the cracks in the kitchen door. His focus shifted instantly from his bruised ego to the culinary magic happening a few feet away.
Wait... is that Liechi Berry? And... is he searing aged Moomoo steak?
Growlithe's tail gave a traitorous wag. He shook his head again, his soft orange fur getting messy. No! Don't let the aroma win! It's a bribe! A delicious, medium-rare, perfectly seasoned bribe!
(In reality, he was just hungry, but his pride wouldn't let him admit it.)
Swish!
The kitchen door swung open, and a cloud of steam and spice billowed out, filling the suite with an aroma so thick you could almost chew it.
"Everyone! Sorry for the wait! Dinner is served!" I called out, carrying two large trays.
Growlithe blinked. Wait, that was fast? He looked at the digital clock on the bedside table.
? We got back at 3:40 PM. How is it already 6:50 PM?
Growlithe stared at the clock, genuinely confused. Had he really been lost in his "noir detective" internal monologue for three hours? He looked over at Togepi. The little guy, who had been so hyped up earlier, had actually fallen asleep on the rug while waiting. The exhaustion of the day's battle had finally caught up to him while Growlithe was busy "brainstorming."
"Floette! (Dinner! Finally!)"
Floette didn't care about the time-space continuum. She dove straight toward her bowl. I had prepared a special, three-layered honey cake infused with Sweet Scent nectar and crushed Pecha berries. It was light, airy, and smelled like a spring meadow.
Floette buried her face in it immediately. She didn't even have to look to know it was hers. She could smell the lack of Liechi Berries (which she found too spicy) and the presence of her favorite Rare Candy shavings. This was the intuition of a true gourmet.
Growlithe was next. He hopped onto the padded bench I'd set up for him, his eyes locking onto a thick, bone-in steak smothered in a dark, shimmering Liechi Berry reduction.
Woof... (Alright, fine. I'll 'investigate' this steak for evidence of illegal deliciousness.)
He took a bite. His eyes rolled back in his head. The spicy-sweet kick of the berry sauce perfectly complemented the rich, smoky flavor of the grilled meat. It was, quite literally, the best thing he had ever tasted.
Hmph! There's definitely a problem here, Growlithe thought, chewing furiously. I'll have to eat the whole thing to be sure. Maybe even seconds. For the sake of the law.
Sylveon, meanwhile, had been woken up by the scent. She hopped down from the bed and began delicately eating a Poffin sandwich—layers of whipped pink cream, sliced Nanab berries, and a sweet bread bun. She ate with a blissful smile, her feelers swaying gently in the air.
Togepi woke up just in time to find a mini-cake, decorated to look like his own shell, sitting right in front of his nose.
"Togepri-pri! (Delicious!)" He took a giant bite, his eyes squinting in joy.
I sat down at the small table with my own plate of pasta, watching them. The stress of the tournament, the fear of failing Togepi, the exhaustion of travel—it all melted away in the warmth of the room. Seeing them eat happily, safe and sound in our little sanctuary, was worth more than a dozen ribbon badges.
The four of them continued to savor the feast, the only sounds in the room being the clinking of bowls and the occasional happy bark or chirp. Outside, the stars began to peek through the Hearthome smog, but inside, the world was perfect.