I don't offer her a hand or a parting glance. The command has been issued, the asset has been initialized.
I turn the heavy iron handle and step out into the cooler air of the gym's private corridor. My boots thud rhythmically against the stone, a steady, predatory beat that carries me past the silent training mills and out toward the main battlefield.
I cross the tiered bleachers and exit through the massive front doors, the cold Pewter wind catching my vest. The sun is dipping lower, but my focus is a block away—the red roof of the Pokémon Center, where the next nodes of the network are waiting to be tapped.
I push through the automatic sliding doors. I ignore the line of weary trainers and stride directly toward the main counter. I stop at the marble surface, the height of my frame forcing the young medical assistant behind the desk to crane her neck back to meet my eyes.
[POV: Mia]
He's huge. My heart just skipped a beat—not the usual trainer exhaustion, but something else. He looks... dangerous. I should be asking for his trainer card, but I can barely remember how to breathe with him looming over the counter like that. His eyes are like obsidian.
She flushes instantly, her hands fumbling with a stack of medical charts as she stares up at me.
She drops her clipboard, the plastic clattering against the linoleum. "I—welcome to the Pewter City Pokémon Center," she stammers, her voice an octave higher than normal. "How... how can I help a trainer like you tonight, sir?"
I don't answer immediately. Instead, I step into the gap of the marble counter, leaning my weight onto my forearms so my chest crowds the space between us.
[POV: Mia]
He's too close. I can feel the heat coming off him, like he's still vibrating from whatever he did to Brock. I should ask for his Trainer ID. I should pick up my clipboard. But my legs feel like water, and all I can think about is how wide his shoulders are and how small I am under his shadow. I want him to keep looking at me like that, even if it scares me.
Her breath hitches. The flush on her cheeks deepens, spreading down to the collar of her uniform.
"Sir?" she whispers, the word barely a thread of sound.
I don't back away. "Just crushed Brock," I say, the weight of the victory hanging in the air like ozone. "My Garchomp needs a bit of a touch-up job. Private, if you can manage it."
[POV: Mia]
He beat Brock. The Leader is... down? And he's standing here, smelling like salt and cold air and something so much more intense. He said 'private.' He's looking at me like I'm the only thing in this lobby that matters, but it's not a question. It's an order. My knees... I can't feel my feet. I want to say yes. I have to say yes.
"Y-yes, sir," she stammers. She presses the intercom button, her eyes never leaving mine. "Private ward... of course. I'll... I'll get Head Nurse Joy right away for your Garchomp."
"Good girl," I rumble, the words low enough to be a vibration against her skin. "You're quick. Efficiency is a trait I value."
[POV: Mia]
He called me... a good girl. It feels like a brand. I should be offended, I'm a professional, but my stomach is doing backflips and I can't stop looking at the way his vest pulls across his shoulders. I've never felt this small before. I hope Hana takes a long time to get here. No, I hope she gets here now before I do something embarrassing like beg him to keep looking at me like that.
The sliding doors to the inner wing hiss open. Hana Joy moves with a practiced, maternal grace, but as her gaze lands on me, I see the micro-adjustment in her posture.
She comes to a halt a few feet away, her hands instinctively smoothing the front of her white apron, the fabric straining across her chest.
[POV: Hana Joy]
That's... quite a presence. He's huge. And he has Brock's badge already? It's only five o'clock. Mia looks like she's about to faint, poor thing. But there's a heat coming off him that I can feel from here. It's been a long time since a trainer looked like... that. Like he owns the building. My heart is beating a bit fast. Professionalism, Hana. Stay focused.
"Nurse Mia said we have a victor in the lobby," Hana says, her voice breathy. "I'm Head Nurse Hana Joy. You've certainly made an impression on my staff, sir."
She gestures toward the corridor. "If your Garchomp requires a private touch-up, please, follow me to the Private Consultation Ward. We can ensure your team receives the individual attention they deserve."
I stride toward Hana Joy. I don't stop until I'm deep in her personal space, looming over her.
"Lead on," I rumble.
[POV: Hana Joy]
He's massive. Closer than any trainer should be, smelling of charcoal and the cold air of the peaks. My pulse is jumping in my ears, and all I can think about is how easily those broad shoulders would fill the doorway of the ward. It's not just the badge; it's the way he moves like he's already decided I'm going to do exactly what he says. I should ask for his ID... I should be more formal... but my knees feel like they're going to give if I don't start walking.
Hana fumbles with the keycard at her hip, her fingers trembling visibly as she swipes it against the reader. The lock disengages with a heavy, pressurized hiss.
"We're... we're secure here, sir," she says, her voice dropping to a breathy whisper. "The logs are manual in this ward. Please... step inside."
I cross the threshold, the heavy door thudding shut behind me with a muted, pressurized click.
"The logs are manual," I repeat her words, my voice dropping an octave. "Good. I prefer it when things aren't left to chance."
Hana Joy and Mia images attached