Julian let out a long, satisfied sigh as he leaned back against the hotel chair, his fingers sinking into the plush, rounded belly of his favorite orange-and-black fire-starter. Growlithe had just finished his own breakfast (which, thankfully, was professionally made Pokéblocks and not a dairy-based fruit disaster), and he was currently looking like a very small, very fluffy yoga ball.
"Man... seriously, Growlithe," Julian chuckled, giving the dog's tummy a gentle poke. "There is something scientifically superior about your belly right after you eat. It's like a memory foam mattress. I press down, and boing, it just pops right back into a perfect sphere."
"Woof, woof-woof! (Hey! Watch the pressure, man! I'm still digesting over here. One more poke and I might actually launch those Pokéblocks back at you like a Bullet Seed attack!)"
Growlithe let out a low, vibrating groan, his paws flailing slightly as Julian continued the 'texture analysis.'
"It's a tragedy, honestly," Julian teased, ignoring the protest as he buried his face into the warm, cedar-scented fur of Growlithe's chest, taking a deep breath of that comforting 'puppy smell.' "I was genuinely planning on using you as a living pillow for my post-breakfast nap. You're at peak squishiness right now."
"Woof? (A pillow? Didn't you already spend half the night using my back as a headrest back in Solaceon?)" Growlithe tilted his head, looking down at the top of Julian's messy hair with a mix of affection and 'done-with-this-human' energy.
"Yeah, but that was Normal Growlithe," Julian said, lifting his head and scratching the dog just under the chin, causing Growlithe's hind leg to start a rhythmic thumping against the floor. "I've never tried Post-Breakfast Growlithe. I bet it's like sleeping on a cloud made of toasted marshmallows. It would be legendary."
Growlithe shook his head, his ears flopping dramatically. "Woof-woof! (No deal. My stomach is a temple, not a Tempur-Pedic. I feel like I'm made of jelly right now. Give me a break!)"
"Fine, fine, I'll spare you the indignity for now," Julian laughed, his hand sliding from the chin down to the thick fur of the neck. "But you'd better watch out. Once you reach the Elite Class and I finally let you use that Fire Stone, your Arcanine form is going to be massive. I'm going to spend entire weekends just vibrating in your fur. You'll be a literal sofa."
Growlithe's eyes went wide, his brain clearly conjuring an image of himself as a giant, fluffy taxi service for a clingy human. He let out a skeptical huff, though he didn't pull away.
"Woof... (Elite Class, huh? If that's the price for a promotion, I guess I'd better start training. Just don't expect me to be a 'sofa' for free. I want high-grade beef jerky in exchange for every nap.)"
"Fly-ah~ (Ahem. Earth to Julian. Do we have a schedule or are we just narrating the dog's anatomy all morning?)"
Julian felt a familiar, silky tug on his wrist. He looked down to see Sylveon standing there, her ribbons wrapped firmly around his arm like a pink velvet handcuff.
"Oh! Right! The Gym!" Julian's eyes snapped toward the clock. "Arceus, I got distracted by the fluff again. Thanks for the save, Sylveon. Let's get moving before the sun goes down—which, in this city, feels like it happens at noon."
He set Growlithe down on the carpet and scrambled toward the door, grabbing his heavy down coat. Sylveon deftly untied her ribbons so he could shove his arms through the sleeves, while the rest of the team watched the frantic scramble with amused expressions.
"Alright, listen up!" Julian said, checking his pockets for his Trainer ID. "Sylveon, Growlithe, you're with me. Togetic, Floette—you're the 'Home Defense' squad. Keep an eye on Carbink and maybe show her the ropes on some basic defensive drills. If I come back and the hotel room is a crater, I'm telling the manager it was your fault."
"Floe~! (Got it, Boss. I'll make sure the 'Rock' doesn't roll away.)" Floette waved a tiny leaf.
"Jia-gei! (I'll teach her the 'How to ignore Julian's weird jokes' technique!)" Togetic added with a wink.
"Mishimishi! (I will be a good student!)" Carbink hopped in place.
"Good. Let's roll!"
The Streets of Snowpoint City
The cold hit them like a physical wall the moment they stepped out of the lobby. Snowpoint wasn't just cold; it was aggressive. The wind whipped off Mt. Coronet, carrying fine, powdery snow that tasted like frozen diamonds. However, the city's infrastructure was impressive—the main roads were cleared of the heavy drifts, leaving only a thin, crunchy layer of fresh white powder that squeaked under Julian's boots.
Julian walked down the sidewalk, his hands buried deep in his pockets. On his left, Growlithe trotted along, his internal heat melting the snowflakes before they could even land on his back. On his right, Sylveon walked with a dainty, high-stepping gait, trying her best to keep her paws from sinking too deep into the slush.
"Okay, Growlithe," Julian said, casting a side-eye at the dog. "We're far enough away from the room. Why did you wait until the door was locked to bring up 'The Noodle Incident'?"
"Woof! (Because I didn't want to break Togetic's heart!)" Growlithe stopped for a second, looking up at Julian with a look of pure judgment. "(Jing, seriously... are you actually human? Or did you swap your stomach for a Muk's digestive tract when I wasn't looking?)"
"Huh? What are you talking about?" Julian played dumb, though a cold sweat was already forming under his beanie.
"Woof-woof! (Don't 'huh' me. I have a nose that can track a Sneasel through a blizzard. I smelled that bowl from three rooms away. It smelled like a sugar factory exploded inside a dairy farm, and yet I watched you chug it like it was a Rare Candy. Explain yourself!)"
"Fly-ah? (Wait, what did I miss?)" Sylveon's ribbons twitched in curiosity. "(What was in the noodles?)"
Julian sighed, the weight of his culinary crimes finally catching up to him. "Well... since the cat's—or the dog's—out of the bag... yeah. It was a disaster. A sweet, fishy, milky disaster."
"Woof! (Disaster? It was bio-terrorism,)" Growlithe growled, though his eyes were softening. "(I smelled the Razz Berry juice mixing with the Moomoo Milk. It was nauseating. And then you hit that honey pocket at the bottom? I thought you were going to go into cardiac arrest right there on the bed.)"
"Wait, Jing actually ate it all?!" Sylveon stopped in her tracks, her ribbons flying up in shock. "(I thought he was just being polite with the first bite! You actually finished the whole thing?)"
"I had to!" Julian whispered harshly, leaning down so no passing locals would hear his shame. "Togetic was standing there with those big, sparkly eyes, glowing because she'd used Psychic for the first time just to serve me. What was I supposed to do? Say, 'Hey, thanks for the hard work, but this tastes like a Grimer's bathwater'? I'm not a monster!"
He put an index finger to his lips, looking at both of them. "But seriously, you guys. Keep it under wraps. If Togetic finds out I spent ten minutes dying in the bathroom, she'll never pick up a whisk again. And she really does want to help."
Growlithe let out a long, canine sigh that puffed white in the air. "Woof~ (I knew you'd pull the 'Empathy Card.' That's why I didn't say anything in front of her. But man... I'm worried about your health. If she starts making 'Graveler-Crunch' for lunch, you're on your own.)"
"I'm tougher than I look," Julian insisted, though he winced at the memory of a particularly soggy noodle. "I have to taste-test the Pokéblocks I make for you guys, and let's be honest, the 'Spicy-Sweet' mix you like for your Fire-moves is enough to melt a normal person's tongue. I've built up a tolerance for the extreme. But... yeah. Togetic's noodles were... an outlier."
Julian's face went slightly green for a second as he remembered the lukewarm, viscous texture of the honey-milk broth.
"Fly-ah! (You're an idiot, Jing! A big, sentimental, self-sacrificing idiot!)" Sylveon reached out with a ribbon and poked Julian's stomach, right where the 'Recovery Meal' was currently waging war on his insides. "(If it tastes bad, just tell us! We won't hate you for it!)"
"It's not about being hated, Sylveon," Julian said, scratching his head awkwardly. "It's about encouragement. She's learning! After a few more sessions where I actually supervise the stove, she'll be making five-star meals. I'm just... taking one for the team in the meantime."
"Woof... (You're a piece of work,)" Growlithe muttered, though he nudged his head against Julian's leg. "(Just... try not to actually die before we get the badge, okay? I'd hate to have 'Death by Noodle' on my resume.)"
"Relax, relax! I'm a survivor!" Julian laughed, feeling the tension lift as they approached the towering, frost-covered architecture of the Snowpoint Gym. "Besides, I've got plenty of energy now! I'm basically fueled by pure glucose. I could probably outrun a Weavile right now!"
"Fly-ah~ (I'd like to see you try in those boots.)"
Julian looked down at his chunky winter gear and chuckled. "Okay, maybe not outrun. But I'm ready! Let's go see what Candice has in store for us. Seventh badge, here we come!"
He reached out and gave both of them a firm, affectionate pat on the head, before leading the way toward the massive doors of the Gym, his boots crunching loudly in the fresh Snowpoint snow.