Chapter 55: Pancakes With Notes of Sugar Rush

A series of mishaps delayed their arrival at Two Island.

Well, no, that would be wrong.

One mishap delayed their arrival. Namely, Luan.

While enthralled in his PokéNav, he failed to notice Delia approaching him. Her touch on his shoulder made him jump, startled and fumbling. The usual awkwardness, but in overdrive. Naturally, the PokéNav chose that moment to slip away from between his fingers and plunge into the ocean.

He was distraught. A second of shock followed by incoherent babbling led his psychic and flying Pokémon to hover uselessly around their trainer instead of very easily recover the device before it disappeared under the surface. In an attempt to help, Celeste lobbed her Slowpoke into the water (while also forbidding Delia to do as much as pick her Shellder’s Pokéball). Pat, bless his heart, did his best, but every time he re-emerged, he carried something different with him. Seashells twice, some kelp once until finally he found a perfectly rectangular rock that oddly resembled the PokéNav.

So… yay for results?

Mia, drawn by the commotion and the calls to halt the boat, stormed onto the deck, disbelief all over her face. “You dropped the PokéNav?” she hissed. “The very expensive PokéNav I gave you? What were you—”

Her rebuke paused, her gaze catching Luan’s drift towards Delia. Her jaw clicked, tightened, before she let out a long, exasperated sigh. As if she decided the others to be useless, she refocused on Celeste.

“Couldn’t your water Pokémon deal with it?” she asked, her glare intensifying. Celeste answered with a nod to the sea, where Pat had now surfaced with a plastic cup in his mouth.

Mia massaged her temples, whispering a curse about children. No quips or jokes this time. She simply rummaged for a Pokéball inside a satchel she carried and released something in the water. The Pokémon was unlike any Celeste had ever seen. It resembled a Horsea, if Horsea was drab and draped in lifeless seaweed with thin fins that barely helped it stay buoyant in the waves.

Luan whined when he saw it. “Cus, your Skrelp can’t even handle swimming all that well. How’ll it help?” he asked, but caught himself when Mia fumed at him.

Skrelp, then. Celeste filed the name away. The Pokémon’s eyes, deep and sombre, fixed on Mia, but it was Celeste who lost herself on it. Something about the dullness in its gaze made her shudder.

“…we just let her hitch a ride on Slowpoke. She knows what the PokéNav is like,” Mia was saying. The mention of her Slowpoke snapped Celeste back to attention. Everyone was looking at her.

Were they waiting for her to say something?

Celeste was about to agree with whatever they were planning when Mia continued, her voice trying to be reassuring, but sounding harsh and frustrated. “Don’t worry, she won’t poison your Pokémon.”

Poison? Celeste blinked fast. “It—She—Skrelp’s a Poison-Type?”

No one said anything. They should’ve stayed quiet, and Celeste would’ve been none the wiser. Now she stepped back, shaking her head with a big no slipping off her tongue. There was no way she’d risk her Pat getting poisoned at the bottom of the ocean. Nah-uh. Not in a million years.

“Let’s call Lori,” she blurted. Their friend’s nap be damned. “Or we can use Shelly. Delia, let me just recall Pat and you—”

Mia blocked Celeste’s retreat and shot her a stern and scary look. “Your Slowpoke’s faster.” That was a first. “Get this over with quick. Tell him to dive.”

With her best bratty expression, Celeste decided to shout, “Run for your life, Pat,” as she snickered at Mia. The entire situation was too ridiculous not to be funny, but Mia’s response was a groan so loud Celeste had to steel herself. “I’m not doing it.” She stamped her feet in the end.

At that, Delia picked her Shellder’s ball and pointed it to the water. “Not all Poison-Types are dangerous,” she began in that lecturing tone of hers. “The only ones you have to look out for are those with Poison Point…”

Luan shuffled at the mention of the ability, making Delia halt for a moment.

“…What’s your Skrelp’s ability again?” she asked slowly, her finger hovering over the release button of her Pokéball, but not pressing it. When Mia said nothing, she turned to Luan inquisitively.

He never denied Delia, but was also clearly scared of Mia. “It doesn’t always poison,” he muttered, shrinking in front of the two women.

After that, they all argued for about half an hour, until Lori finally showed up on the deck, yawning and still groggy from her nap.

Her Dewgong recovered the PokéNav in less than twenty seconds.

It didn’t even turn on anymore.

—*——*—

At evening, when they finally arrived at Two Island, Mia had completely missed her meeting and had to spend a long time on the phone, rescheduling and apologising. By the time they all went to sleep, the mood was sour and when morning came, things didn’t look much better.

When Celeste strode into the kitchen, everyone was silent and grumpy. Mia was practically inhaling her coffee, with her face buried in some local newspaper, as she skimmed over the pages with a marker between her fingers. The purple-haired captain greeted Celeste by making room for her to sit, and, as she did, the newspaper headlines popped in front of her.

“CORRUPTION IN FOUR ISLAND,” one announced in bold letters, beneath which a photo of Ex-Mayor White was defaced with a mocking ‘ha-ha’ scribbled in Mia’s handwriting. Another corner of the paper talked about DJ Jiggly Jams’ upcoming move to the mainland, with him and his Wigglytuff swaggering in print. Yet, it was the other page that captured Mia, and therefore Celeste, the most. There was the picture of a man—a scientist, given the lab coat—leaving a helicopter with a grin on his face and a large crate on his arms. Mia had circled the picture a few times and added many question marks on the side. At the top of the page, in letters as big as the other news, was the headline “DISCOVERY AT TANOBY.”

Noting the interest, Mia curled up her perfectly red lips. “Look at his clothes. What a disaster,” she told Celeste, tapping over the scientist’s image. Below the lab coat, a tie fluttered with the wind. It was vibrant and colourful. Among spirals, cartoony Shiinotic and Scorbunny were plastered all over. That could be the fashion choice of an eight-year-old, but the man’s lengthy wavy hair, goatee and sunglasses suggested something else.

“Mid-life crisis?” Celeste offered, and Mia responded with a loud snort.

“I say he likes the mushrooms,” she added, far too amused.

Luan audibly rolled his eyes at that. Sitting across from Celeste, he wasn’t too lively. He slowly mixed up some batter, and every few minutes he stood up and showed it to Delia for approval. She was flipping pancakes by the stove, and never showed satisfaction.

“Put more gusto into it, Lu,” she kept saying, without giving him much extra love. Also…Lu?

Lori burst into the cramped kitchen, her arms loaded with some soggy looking kibble. “I need to feed my Mammoswine,” she declared.

Mia looked up from the newspaper, letting her grey dull eyes lingering on the other woman for a beat.

“The marina outside is too crowded, and this boat is too small. Mammoswine needs space,” Lori explained.

As Delia slid a stack of pancakes onto the table, Mia chose to ignore Lorelei and descended on the food instead. Meanwhile, Celeste’s ears caught Delia muttering for Lu to hurry with the batter. She needed to make more, because “Cee always feeds human food to her Pokémon, and actual humans be damned”.

“Aww, you making more just for my team?” Celeste beamed. “Think you could whip up something chocolaty for Aria? Pat’s more of a—”

“That’s not a compliment, you know?” Delia interjected, her arms folding in front of her. “And I’m not taking orders.”

Luan, stirring the batter with dwindling enthusiasm, couldn’t help himself, “How the hell do your Pokémon do anything without having an indigestion?”

Lori, patience thinning, aimed her plea at Mia again. “What about my Mammoswine?”

Mia, with her mouth full of pancake, blurted out, “By Ho-Oh’s feathers, just let her eat on deck.”

“But she’s too—”

“If she’s that big, missing a meal won’t hurt.”

Lori’s cheeks flamed like a Charizard’s tail. Delia, noticing it first, slid a pancake her way. “Let’s eat, then look for a Pokémon Centre or a park with enough space for a Mammoswine.”

Defiantly, Lori grabbed a pancake. “Fine, I’ll feed her on deck. Give her a pancake, too. Delia always pours too much sugar into those things, so it will be perfect. Sugar-high Groud-Types are great on cramped old boats already falling apart.”

Mia rose, glaring. “Hold on, now—”

“My pancakes aren’t too sweet,” Delia rose too, turning to Luan for backup.

And just like that, the table erupted into more bickering. Celeste sipped her coffee and watched. Maybe she should use the chaos to sneak some of those pancakes for her Pokémon (and not be judged for it). Heh. They could make a pancake party and show the humans how to be civilised. Except… they wouldn’t. Powder would peck at her share and complain, then Aria would try to swipe away the Vulpix’ food. Pat would be nice, and offer Powder his portion, and then Powder would bark at Aria. Worse part of it was Celeste wouldn’t even understand the bickering.

Perhaps a pancake party wasn’t her brightest idea. But…

“What if we all threw a party?” she blurted, half to herself. Her voice found strength. “Let’s do a slumber party!”

Delia’s eyebrows knit together. “How’s that a novelty? We’ve already been roommates for ages.”

“…lucky,” Luan murmured, shock dawning on his face when he realised it was out loud. His hands flew to his mouth so swiftly, he sent the mixing bowl tumbling. Mia’s palm met her face, smearing her make up, while Delia’s reprimand was a touch softer. Lori, still fuming, tossed another remark about the sugar as Luan turned a shade purpler.

“And here we go again…” Celeste giggled.

—*——*—

Delia, fork tapping in one hand, pen twirling in the other, peered over two shopping lists with intensity.

Celeste, now done with feeding her Pokémon, stared at her friend, waiting. “…so… should I be worried?”

Silence. Delia didn’t move from her lists.

“Hey, remember when we all agreed parties were supposed to be fun? Good times, eh? Feels like this morning—oh wait! It was,” Celeste tried, but still no use.

She sprawled out, letting her gaze drift to the doorway where Aria was sniffing for leftovers from the batter that had spilled there earlier. She sighed. Celeste sometimes liked to imagine her starter as this street-hardened, badass scavenger, foraging to survive. Truth was, her Eevee was just a glutton for sweets.

“What about hot-dogs?” Delia’s voice sliced through her thoughts. “We need more savoury.”

Celeste perked up. “Ever tried the carrot ones?”

“Carrot…hot-dogs?” Delia echoed.

“Trust me, they are fan-tas-tic.” Snatching the pen and both lists from Delia, Celeste added ‘carrots’ to one as she let her grin widen. “You know, I’m pretty sure you’ve planned for ab-so-lu-te-ly everything.”

Delia giggled. “Did-I?” she asked, making Celeste follow with a chuckle. The two friends had begun to ironically mimic the way Rey spoke when he was being smug. Now it was catching on, even when he wasn’t around.

Well, mission accomplished, Celeste thought, crumpling one list in her pocket, earning herself a grimace from her friend. She stuck her tongue out, but folded the other list with precision before handing it over. “Now, can we talk about my problem?”

Delia sighed. “We’ve talked about it already. You won’t figure out your life’s purpose this fast. Give it time—”

“I meant the other problem.”

“The nightmares?” Delia ventured, her frown deepening.

Celeste shook her head. “Not that. The newer, other problem,” she said, making her friend lean back in her chair, waiting.

“What now?”

Celeste straightened. “My Pokémon’s diet. Should I be worried?”

Delia’s laughter broke free. “Of all things, I thought this was going to be serious.”

“It is!” Celeste began, but Aria’s delighted bark interrupted her. She’d found some batter and was licking it off the floor, which… actually proved the point. Probably a little too well, given that Delia was grimacing like she was watching a Trubbish in a dumpster and not a pampered Eevee.

“Aria, don’t lick food from the floor,” Celeste chided, knowing it wouldn’t work. “I do brush their teeth,” she added, hoping to salvage some dignity from the situation.

Delia couldn’t help but to sound amused. “If you’re that concerned, why don’t you get them some kibble mix?” she suggested, only to meet Celeste’s own grimace of disdain this time around.

The moment was cut short as Lori appeared back in the kitchen, finally done with her morning training routine. Luan was outside already, waiting so they could all go shopping for the party.

Celeste sprung on her feet. This felt exciting.

Two Island was a market town, but not just any market town. It was a historic hub of commerce, connecting trading routes all over the continent since ancient times. From Hoenn to Sinnoh and nowadays even further, you could find stuff from all over. Fancy some Lava Cookies? They had that. A whiff of Kalosian perfume? Just go to the Clock Plaza. Want to find exotic jewellery from traditional communities from Sinnoh? Well… Celeste really hoped they had that, too…

“So, what’s the plan?” Luan’s voice snapped Celeste back to the present as they gathered on the deck.

Delia took charge, unfolding the list she kept with herself—for the sweets. Celeste had the savoury one crumpled in her pocket. Her strategy was simple: divide and conquer. They’d go in pairs and they would not get distracted, as the market was large and easy to get lost in. Her gaze pinned Celeste as she explained that.

As they prepared to disembark, however, Mia showed up and cornered Celeste, separating her from the others. Their captain wasn’t going out shopping with them, and it showed. Her make-up had been toned down and her purple hair tied up in a serious-looking knot on top of her head. She’d rescheduled whatever it was she had missed for today, and would not be back until late at night.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“This party idea of yours—it’s got potential.” Mia cut through Celeste’s thoughts, her voice low, her gaze piercing. “But here’s a thought—what if it was the setting for more… intimate developments?”

Celeste’s frown was involuntary. Mia’s hints were as subtle as a Hyper Beam. This was about Luan. “I doubt he’s making any moves today.” Sometimes she doubted he would make moves ever.

Mia’s smile widened, mischievous and sinister. “Not without help, he won’t,” she said. “Look… I can’t watch another of his adorable fumbles anymore. I promise you, if I see him stutter and squirm around Delia one more time, it won’t be PokéNav at the bottom of the ocean.”

Slowly, Celeste offered. “I get it. I really, really do. But I promised him... No meddling.”

Mia’s scoff came loud. “You’re kidding, right?”

Celeste felt somewhat trapped as Mia wrapped an arm around her back and squeezed her shoulders. Just like the day before, her smile suddenly became warm and gentle.

“Did Lu ever tell you about our family?” she hummed, steering Celeste out of the boat. “He’s the middle sibling. His older bro got the cushy job that made everyone proud and the twins are like little geniuses. All he had growing up was Gran telling him he was special. That is, until I whooped him off his ass one day. That’s what he needs, Celly. People like you and me to help him become his best self.”

Siblings? Twins? “Mia, I—” Celeste bit her tongue. “This will backfire.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Mia declared, propelling her towards the others, capping it off with a silent, “I’m counting on you,” before vanishing back inside.

Just like that, Celeste was left standing, wondering what exactly she’d just agree to, or if she’d even agree to anything. Rejoining the group, she found Delia going through the lists she made in excruciating detail and Luan hypnotised by her words.

She remembered his question earlier.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Oh Luan… what’s the plan indeed?

—*——*—

Lori was gasping for air beside Celeste. Understandable. Celeste’s own tights were burning, something only made worse by Aria’s insistence on sticking to her head.

“Almost there,” Luan called from up front. He was lanky, and who knew? It gave him an advantage when going up the steps of a very steep hill. At his encouragement, Lori muttered something that sounded a lot like cursing and then went on to say that this was the reason she had never come to this market before.

Celeste craned her neck to see just how “almost there” they were and concluded almost was for sure a bad choice of words. She contemplated complaining in solidarity with Lori, but then saw Luan offering Delia an arm. The gesture was so earnest, and sweet. Maybe Luan wasn’t helpless after all. For all his awkwardness around Delia, he had a steadiness about him. Dependable, that would be a good choice of words. He didn’t need any meddling.

“Finally!” Lori exhaled, with a hint of victory, when they reached the top. Her hands clenched the rail as she gulped down air, not really bothering to look around. Celeste offered a gentle tap on her shoulder. When her friend glared back, she nudged her head ahead, pointing out the view.

And what a view it was.

From the cliff-side facing the ocean, they could see the entire marina where they’d docked. The water, cool and dark, lapped along the rugged coastline before it transformed into sleek concrete and wooden piers. Barely visible, small boats like Mia’s disappeared in the shadows of large cruise ships and even larger cargo vessels, while the people—mostly tourists and merchants—became nothing more than specks in the distance.

Yet, as breathtaking as the Marina was, Two Island’s true gem was the market. It sat atop the cliff and those brave enough to climb over three hundred steps to get there could take it in full. On their journey up, the lush green of palm-lined beaches gave way to fiery yellows and oranges of oaks and cypresses. Now, mingled with ocean and fallen leaves, the market itself unfolded. It was sea-breeze with pumpkin spice. Leaf covered stalls lining narrow pastel streets where people laughed and cameras flashed. In the distance, someone played a guitar, while closer, the sound of a saxophone filled the air. “Corn on the cob,” a vendor yelled, and another, louder, “bottle caps”.

Celeste just grinned. She wanted it all.

“Candy apple?”

“Huh?”

Blinking in surprise, Celeste found herself face to face with a vendor who had zeroed in on their group—or, more specifically, on her. The others (or just Lori) were too busy talking about why water routes were better than “the never ending hiking” to notice.

“Uh… I’m not…” Celeste stuttered, while Aria leaped from her head to her shoulder, eyeing the candy apples with intensity. With a quick motion, she grabbed the Eevee, ignoring the twinge of protest from both the wound on her arm and her Pokémon. “I’m not getting everything that catches your nose, okay? Don’t you wanna look around a bit first?”

The vendor looked amused, and he was insistent. He showcased his tray filled with all kinds of glistening, syrupy apples. Celeste thought they looked a bit much, but also felt Aria’s drool on her skin.

“Which one you want?” she asked with a sigh, and the Eevee leaned in to choose immediately. She was going for the chocolate one when she stopped, her gaze fixed on the last apple on the tray. Celeste squinted at it. It was bigger than the other apples, and glossier. From a stalk that looked way too organic, leaves sprouted.

It was weird, but okay—until the apple moved.

“What the—?” she recoiled. “Let’s maybe not go with the candy apples today, Aria,” Celeste suggested, edging herself further away, only to collide with another salesman. This one had no tray. Instead of showing off some product, he appraised her. His eye twinkled before he began his pitch about the Joyous Game Corner.

“It’s our grand opening! Prime location, just by the Clock Plaza,” he raved, dangling a flyer and tickets in her face like they were of gold. “I don’t usually do this, but for you, a VIP entry.”

Her eyeballs followed the tickets, and she found herself being reeled in. It was something about the tone of his voice, maybe? Or perhaps the way he made promises about a giant arcade with games “kids these days” love. Celeste could even get Pokémon Eggs as a prize if she—

“Where are you going?” Delia pulled her back.

“To a cassino…” she mumbled. “I wasn’t really going, though.”

The salesman made a shocked face, which Celeste doubted was genuine. Everyone knew the Game Corners were cassinos, after all. And honestly, Delia should have more faith in her. Her friends kept forgetting she was in fact very well travelled and actually knew a thing or two about the world.

After the Game Corner guy left and their friends came closer, Delia, her tone scolding, declared, “The pairs. I’ll take Cee.” She retrieved her meticulously folded shopping list from her pocket with care. “Someone needs to keep her focused and on track.”

Celeste’s response was to stick her tongue out. “I can keep focused.”

Delia simply arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t you spend the first day of your journey buying some useless camping gear you won’t ever use?”

“Only because I lost it.”

Their friends shared a look.

So what if Celeste’s track record wasn’t amazing? She sighed. Whatever. She was about to pass the crumpled list from her pocket to Luan when she caught him caressing the arm Delia had touched. He had a dreamy look in his eyes, but he wasn’t making any other move.

Celeste paused, noticing her Eevee shifting on her shoulder. Her friend was taking his time, and it was fine, she tried reminding herself. The crumpled piece of paper still dangled from her fingers but she didn’t let go.

“Cee, the list?” Delia hurried her.

Luan didn’t need anyone to meddle. Celeste knew it, but… maybe, like Mia was trying to say, he needed a nudge. A tiny little nudge that wouldn’t even be meddling.

“Actually…” Celeste hesitated, eyes darting to Luan’s hand, still tracing invisible patterns on his arm. “Mind if I partner up with Lori? I have a—ah, Blaine! I mean, I have a question about battling strategies for… for Blaine.”

Delia’s eyebrows climbed higher in her forehead. But Lorelei, with that half smile of hers, lit up. “Finally made up your mind about the gyms?”

Celeste’s confirmation stumbled out of her mouth. “Yup. Absolutely. All in.”

Delia, perhaps not entirely sold but willing to let the matter slide, passed the responsibility to Lori. “Make sure she doesn’t wander off,” she instructed, before turning back to Celeste. “And you—you stay focused.”

With that, Delia whisked Luan away, his feet barely touching the ground, his heart likely fluttering with the prospect of a day together. Celeste smiled, proud of her work.

Little nudges, not meddling.

—*——*—

Celeste stretched a map in front of her face and tilted her neck to better see the stall ahead.

“This isn’t a bakery,” Lori observed, scrutinising the blue line that snaked across the paper—directions Celeste had got earlier. “Might’ve closed down…?”

“Might have,” Celeste muttered in agreement, slowly lowering the map. Truth was she never asked for directions to a bakery.

Just ahead, an… eclectic… shop brimmed with what her parents would call superstitious trinkets. It had the aroma of incense and the rattling of bells and metal. This was her true destination, though she’d conveniently omitted that detail from her friend—Lori’d been too busy browsing Kurt-Originals Pokéballs to check what directions Celeste had really been asking about. There was no need to lie, of course, but they would’ve never ventured that deep into the market if she didn’t make up something about the best bakery in all of Two Island.

“I’ll just ask around,” she ventured, her tone breezy as she made a beeline for the stall in question. She quickly glanced back and before Lori came her way, blurted out, “Got any Lunar Wings?”

The merchant, unfazed, met her inquiry with a languid blink. “Troubled by nightmares, my wisp?”

Celeste tapped her foot in frustration. Why else would anyone look for a Lunar Wing? “Just—do you have one?” she asked.

“Patience, little wisp,” the vendor replied at a maddeningly calm pace, directing her to a display. The so-called Lunar Wings dangled mockingly above a sleeping Drowzee. Only problem was they looked a lot more like Spearow feathers than anything mystical. Some were still wet with green paint.

Celeste’s heart sank. What had she expected? That the feathers of a legendary would just be hanging around for sale in a back-alley stand?

The real Lunar Wings—said to be bestowed by Cresselia, Harbinger of Pleasant Dreams—were nearly unattainable. People even debated if Cresselia was real or not. But Celeste had seen an “original” Lunar Wing pendant once. It was a few months ago, back when her parents were researching it for their show. The episode, unfortunately, was one of their rare duds. Champion Palmer and the Sinnoh League never granted them access to Fullmoon Island, and the analysis of the feather itself came out as inconclusive. Still, the feather, whatever it might be, existed, and traditional communities around Canalave swore no one in their villages ever had bad dreams.

“Are you okay, little wisp?” The vendor’s voice cut through Celeste’s thoughts.

“Uh, sorry. Those aren’t exactly what I’m after,” Celeste dismissed the counterfeit wings. “Just wanted something for… better sleep,” she added, more to herself than anyone else.

The vendor, upon hearing this, seemed to ponder for a moment before rousing the Drowzee. With a lazy gesture from the Pokémon, a small notebook flew into Celeste’s hands—a diary adorned with stars.

“Thanks for the…?” Celeste trailed off, puzzled.

“Dream Journal,” the seller clarified, her tone shedding its earlier mystique. “Amulets might offer comfort, even when we know they hold no real power,” she gestured towards the faux Lunar Wings. “But for those who seek truth and understanding, keeping a journal might offer some clarity.”

“I never remember much of my nightmares when I wake up,” Celeste confessed, the journal suddenly heavy in her grasp.

“Begin with fragments then,” the vendor advised, a knowing look in her eyes. “The pieces might seem trivial at first, but they’re part of a larger puzzle. Over time, the story will reveal itself.”

This was unexpected. Could a simple journal help? Celeste wasn’t sure, but as she handed over payment, the idea was growing on her.

With the journal in her possession, and Lori finally approaching her, she ventured one last question. “Any chance you know where we might find a bakery?”

—*——*—

“C’mon, Lori, don’t be such a spoilsport!” Celeste nudged her friend.

Their day, meant to be focused and on track, had spiralled into a series of wrong turns and detours. The market was a maze, but also fun. Yes, Lori caught on fast that Celeste never really asked for directions for the bakery, and also that they were lost. But along the way, they found most of the items on Delia’s list. Just the bread had been missing when the smell of gluten and freshly baked goods filled the air.

Like destiny.

Dragged by Aria’s nose, they followed it to a quaint, small bakery tucked in some corner. And that’s where they were now.

The thing was, this bakery had a bit of a twist.

“Pleeease?” Celeste’s grin was disarming. “It’s not just about the bread. It’s… training. For Blaine, you know?”

Lori’s scepticism was glaring as she gestured towards the sign, twin Bs written in beautiful cursive letters. “In a place called Battle Bakery? Really, Celeste? Aren’t you stretching this ‘training’ excuse a bit thin?”

Celeste shot a glance at Aria, who was practically swallowing the bakery’s smells. “We still need bread,” she tried. “And lunch.”

With a resigned sigh, Lori conceded. She was being tough, yet the way her eyes danced behind her glasses, scrutinising every loaf of bread, betrayed her curiosity. Led by their noses and Aria’s eager nudges, they stepped inside. Instantly, they were enveloped by something that felt like a warm hug. A cloud of yeasty and sweet flavours made the Eevee flare up and Celeste pause. The place was unpretentious and homely, in a way that reminded Celeste of her grandfather’s house in Paldea. In a glassy display sat cakes and pastries, and on the floor a few pumpkins marked the season. There was a Fidough sleeping in a corner.

Actually, not just one.

There were a few Fidough around. Some even ambling about with trays over their heads. They followed one towards a patio on the back and once they crossed into it, they were completely caught off guard.

Battle Bakery should’ve been a giveaway, but somehow neither of them expected to see an actual battle court there. Around it, spectators gathered at neatly arranged tables as trainers standing in two slightly raised podiums, shouted commands to their Pokémon.

On one side stood a confident blond teenager whose apron fluttered like a flag. At his side, a Dachsbun watched the battle with a sharp eye, though it did not partake into the action. The one battling instead was a small but energetic Fidough. Opposite them, a girl, slightly younger than Celeste, directed her Poliwag with loud shouts.

“Even the Pokémon smell great here,” Celeste said as they waited for a table to vacate. Lori offered a noncommittal hum, her attention caught by the battle, a sentiment surprisingly shared by Aria.

“Baguette, Bite!” the blonde commanded, and his Fidough leapt into action right away.

The Poliwag, already looking as if it had been spun one too many times in a whirlpool, narrowly evaded the attack. Its trainer wrinkled her nose at that, but wasted no time to give out a command of her own. “Bubble, make it snappy!” she called.

Celeste watched, her brow furrowing. The Poliwag pausing to launch its attack felt like a mistake. It left the Water-Type open. Fidough could just sidestep it and attack from the side.

Man, she was actually into that, too.

As the bubbles met their mark, Fidough’s response was not to dodge but to charge, biting through the bubbles. Dark and exploding water somehow resulted in a thick smoke that enshrouded the fight.

The blonde smirked as he dusted his apron. “Nicely done, Baguette! Now it’s time to Play Rough.”

As the dog leaped into the smoke, Celeste couldn’t help but to notice it was spreading towards the tables where the audience was. Probably not so good to have battles so close to diners? She wondered. Before it reached anyone, Dachsbun intervened with a bark, redirecting the smoke with a well placed Protect and sparing the patrons from any discomfort. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was effective enough to clear the air for the spectators, Celeste included.

Now that the view was clearing, she could see Fidough dashing towards its opponent. Its stubby tail wagged excitedly, and its small tongue hung free from the side of its mouth. It pounced on the Poliwag, sending the two of them tumbling across the battlefield. The poor Water-Type was overwhelmed. In seconds, slobber and scratches covered its body as it struggled in vain. When Poliwag finally escaped the dog’s grip, Fidough caught it by the tail and flung it through the air.

The red light of the Water-type’s Pokéball ended the battle before the Pokémon even hit the ground.

The girl—Poliwag’s trainer—left swiftly, marking her displeasure with a petulant kick to a nearby chalkboard that Celeste hadn’t noticed before. It tumbled and was now marred to read “Win a battle, get a -eal.”

Aria barked, calling out her attention. Now the battle ended, a table had become available and Lori was gesturing for them to get it quickly before someone else did. Celeste didn’t move, eyes still on the sign.

“Battles like this don’t replace structured training.” Lori tried pulling her away from the sign.

“Seems fun, though,” she replied, moving on to fixing it back up. She thought of Olga for a moment, and how Lite would demolish the competition if she did something like that in her own shop. That brought her a smile. With the board a little straighter, Celeste then noticed there were doodles representing different types of bread with a tally below them.

“Are you challengers?” A voice came from behind. The blonde boy who’d been battling smirked at her with the poise of a Gym Leader. Well… maybe not a real Gym Leader, but someone’s idea of one.

“We might be?” Celeste answered, her voice playful but uncertain. Would Lori be okay with this? Would Delia? Her gaze flickered to her friend, but it was Aria who growled, eager and defiant. Fighting for a treat was right down her alley.

As if someone called for it, Fidough came running, circling them with all the excitement in the world, its tail wagging frantically. When it greeted Celeste, its bark smelled of sourdough. Adorable, even though there was a moment of worry there when it seemed Aria would take a bite out of it. The Eevee restrained herself and instead sniffed the dog before puffing her chest to make herself bigger and more intimidating. Not that Fidough cared.

It barked at its trainer then.

The boy laughed, telling his Pokémon to wait. He bowed in gratitude for Celeste having fixed the sign up, then got on to introduce himself. His name was Paul, son of the bakery’s owner, and Baguette was the Fidough he’d been battling with. The baker’s son then got himself to fixing the words on the sign, also updating the tally beneath the sketch of a baguette.

“It’s his winning streak,” he explained, piquing Celeste’s curiosity. “Baguette’s fourth victory in a roll.”

Turns out, all the Fidough in the shop competed with one another. Friendly rivalry, Paul called it as he directed Celeste’s view around.

Over the windowsill, there was a smaller Fidough, with puffier head buns. “That’s Scone,” Paul told her, and then gestured to two other pups playing beneath the tables—one of them she recognised as the dog who was carrying a tray earlier. “Those two trouble-makers are Crouton and Ciabatta, and that one hiding in the corner.” He gestured to a crate where one last Fidough was sleeping. “That’s Bagel. He’s shy.” Finally, he placed a hand over the Dachsbun who had joined them. “And let’s not forget Focaccia. She’s the mama of the litter.”

Within moments, Celeste was scratching the mama dog—who’d taken to her immediately—while watching Aria get overwhelmed by Fidough’s energy. That was rare.

Paul laughed. “So, are you a challenger or just a costumer?” he asked again, a glint in his eyes. “Baguette’s itching for his fifth win. It’ll put him on the lead.”

“Lori?” Celeste’s grin was pleading. Battling might not be structured training, but it was training anyway.

Her friend sighed. Maybe for the table she’d just lost. “I think your Eevee already made up her mind,” Lorelei said, bobbing her head to the Pokémon. Aria was now trying to jump back onto Fidough, and this time she was actually attempting to bite one of his ears off. He never let her, though.

Paul, amused at the scene, squatted by Aria. “What do you say, then? I can make you a special treat myself once the battle is done.” He smirked. “I’m sure your trainer won’t mind paying for the consolation prize.”

The Eevee sneered at that.

“I think she’s telling us she’ll get all your treats,” Celeste said.

“That’s good business, then.” Paul rose to face her. “Well…?”

She laughed. “All the treats for free? That’s good business for me. No way we’ll lose, right Aria?”

And just like that, both trainers and their Pokémon made their way to the battlefield. Celeste’s heart pumped, and she was ready to win.

Victory, this time, would taste as sweet as croissant with chocolate drops.

Literally.