Chapter 56 - Baking is a Labour of Loaf

Some jazzy song was playing low in the background. The soulful notes, filled with brass and woodwind, felt vibrant, and Celeste found herself tapping against the wooden podium while she waited for her opponent, Paul, the baker’s son, to set everything up for their battle. The clink of cups and shuffle of chairs occasionally drowned out the music and snippets of chatter floated her way.

“Eevee or Fidough?” Some guys were betting nearby.

“Aww, I love Eevee just as much as Pikachu!” a young girl said on the back.

Then closer by. “Hey is that Eevee snarling? Thought they were all friendly-like.”

Celeste couldn’t help but let out a snort at that. Then she trailed down to the table closest to her, where Lorelei sipped some tea. It smelled citrusy and sweet, and the scent mingled well with all the other rich aromas around. Their eyes met, and Lori offered a brief, encouraging smile before turning her attention back to her Frigibax, who’d began acting up again. She’d mentioned that since they were here anyway, might as well show Perl a real battle.

A sharp bark from Aria brought Celeste’s attention back to the empty arena before them. It was circular and much more compact than the one on the Snowflake Cup. It was smaller than the one back on One Island beach, too. In fact, everything about this battle was different from the ones she had before. This one felt… cosy somehow.

Yet, when Paul and his Fidough finally stepped forward, her knees wobbled all the same.

“All set, challenger,” he declared, his blond hair catching the light like autumn leaves. When he straightened himself up, he had the poise of someone confident, almost like he was the Gym Leader of that place.

A tingling sensation began building in Celeste’s spine. “So, how does this go?” she asked, her smile widening.

“One on one. Beat Baguette, and food’s on us,” he laid out the rules. Then, with a nod towards his side where the Dachsbun stood guard, he added, “Focaccia’s here to protect customers, but we ask you to avoid anything that might disturb them too much. The arena’s all earth, however,” he added with a wink. “Easy to resettle, so feel free to make a mess. We’re used to a bit of chaos here.”

He paused for a moment, ensuring he’d covered everything.

“Ready, challenger?” He smirked, finally.

Celeste wanted to smirk back, but her smile was too genuine. This was fun. To battle just because. More than that, it was Paul’s call, “challenger,” that sent that thrilling shiver down her spine. It hadn’t been her who challenged Rey back at One Island, and there were technically no challengers in a tournament, only participants.

This word—this role—it was new to her in a way that made heart skip a beat and her lips curl up.

She closed her eyes and felt the yeasty smelling air fill her lungs. When she open them again, Aria was all she saw. Her Eevee looked smug, as if she was the queen of the universe.

“Let’s do this,” Celeste said, watching her Pokémon leap into the ring. That late November sun washed on her back and, for a moment, she thought even her shadow trembled with anticipation.

Maybe it did.

Then the Dachsbun barked.

That was the signal.

Battle begin.

—*——*—

“Quick Attack!” Celeste’s voice pierced the air, her stance widening.

“Tackle,” Paul countered, a beat too late. Aria had already become a blur running towards his Pokémon. “Use Lick instead,” he tried a hasty redirect, but the Eevee was already steps ahead.

She skirted around Baguette, targeting not the tongue dangling front, but his literal bun, causing him to face-plant in the dirt. The audience’s laughter bubbled up, making Aria pause with a flicker of hesitation in her smirk. Her ears twitched and her lips quivered for a moment, before she puffed out her chest and flashed a grin sharp enough to slice bread.

“Keep going,” Celeste said, shoving away the amusement to some other part of her brain. Her body loosened up, but she wasn’t letting her mind slip. She’d been to enough battles by now to know there always came a twist where things stopped going her way.

Watching Aria’s quick moves, Celeste plotted ahead. A Sand Attack could work. They’d go for the camouflage followed by a surprise strike. But as Baguette rolled up, surprisingly spry for its stubby build, and cheers rose from the crowd, she reconsidered. Maybe not the best idea to sprinkle people’s food with sand.

What was option two, then?

Back on his feet once more, Fidough began wagging his tail excitedly. Suddenly, he was dodging almost all of Aria’s advances. He barked, and he leaped and he played. What was Celeste missing? She glanced at the audience again and then moved her attention toward her Eevee.

“They’re cooking up something, Aria,” she warned, earning some chuckles. The pun was absolutely intended. “Let’s show them how you shine. Pull back and Swift!”

The Eevee didn’t miss a second. After retreating with a Quick Attack, she conjured up her shooting stars. It… didn’t really make a difference, though. Fidough wasn’t playing their game. He just kept on dodging what he could, his barks getting louder and his tail wagging faster.

“Why so worked up over nothing?” Celeste muttered to herself, eyes widening before she even finished.

Work Up.

That was a move… wasn’t it? If she remembered it right, a problematic one, where the Pokémon pumped themselves up to a point where they got a lot stronger. That was the twist in the battle, so how was she twisting it back in her favour? Option two—

“Having fun?” Paul’s voice broke her concentration.

“Huh?”

He gestured to his own lips. “You’re smiling.”

She… was…? Wasn’t she?

“Just thinking about all the pastries we’re gonna get,” Celeste shot back, earning a snickering bark from her own Pokémon.

Paul’s gaze sharpened. “You gotta play for yours.”

Play?

Sneaky.

“They’re going for Play Rough,” Celeste yelled, already watching the fairy energy wrapping around Fidough. “Dig a trap,” she directed, her focus sharp. This was option two. “Pop out with Quick Attack.”

Aria’d got quite good with her holes. On ground like this, she simply vanished beneath the surface. Fast as she was, Fidough caught up in the last moment, snagging her tail before she could burrow. Both tumbled inside and their struggle echoed from the underground.

A second of quiet followed.

Then, Aria emerged, not with the blur of a Quick Attack, but wobbly, with Baguette’s grip firm on her legs.

They crashed back down quickly and just inches from the hole. Like a tangled mess of limbs and fur, they kept pulling, kicking and biting one another. No fancy moves there, just the raw scramble, each desperate to gain the upper hand, to push, to breathe.

Baguette was not letting out, though.

That’s the part when the Pokémon needs their trainer. “How about a Swift? A bit risky up close, but…” Celeste mused, a plan hatching in her mind. “Angle yourself toward the hole, then hit him with a Swift,” she directed. Tension coiled in her shoulders, yet her grin never wavered.

Paul, however, wasn’t about to back down. “End it, Baguette!” he commanded. Celeste winced as she watched Fidough’s jaw clench around her Pokémon’s leg. But Aria, the greatest Eevee ever, just let out a mocking sneer as a response. Her paws tensed with the energy of another Quick Attack and she countered the bite with a quick kick to the mouth that sent her tumbling towards the hole where she’d hopefully gain more distance.

Fidough groaned. Not so keen on giving her the break she needed, he was already closing the distance between them.

Fuck that.

“Now Aria,” Celeste urged as her Eevee pushed herself down the hole. Some more distance and—

Stars erupted from the pit before Baguette had as much as a paw inside. Swift launched him into the air and back down, making a thumping sound that was satisfying as hell.

With no time to waste, Celeste yelled, “Quick attack, before he gets back up.” Aria was already on it. She propelled herself towards Fidough, her movements stirring up dust and… well… flour when she hit him. Oops. Celeste’s eyes flicked to the crowd with some worry, but they were gripped. She smirked at last. “Hey, let’s finish this with a bang. Swift. Make it pretty.”

Aria, feeling all eyes upon her, basked in the limelight. Any trace of shyness had evaporated, replaced by the radiance of her stars. Heaven itself rained down on poor Baguette.

The spectacle was brief but intense. She’d come a long way.

Paul waved a hand in a gesture for surrender, eliciting a bark of his Dachsbun. A good outcome, as Aria herself was almost at her limit. “Battle’s over,” he said, approaching his fallen Fidough. The pup wasn’t unconscious, but covered in scrapes and even some blood. His voice then mingled with the crowd’s applause and a few disgruntled murmurs from the betting people. “All this fierceness for a snack?” He chuckled, eyeing the two winners.

Celeste, still riding her high, ruffled Aria’s fur. “There’s attention and pride, too.” She giggled. “Though yeah, it’s mostly for the sweets. We first met when she stole my popcorn, you know? And then… she came back after some chocolate.”

At that, Aria tackled her trainer playfully and Celeste stuck her tongue out. Paul’s gaze softened at that, his smile almost amused. They were quite the pair, weren’t they? Once upon a time, there was a little Eevee who had to scrape for surviving, until the day she thought she found the easiest target in the whole of Sootopolis. That got them both stuck in that weird water temple.

Fun times.

“Well, no need for stealing today,” Paul laughed, cradling a skulking Baguette in his arms. “She won fair and square,” he added, then a little thoughtful, “Perhaps… What do you say of a kitchen tour? I want to show you something.”

At his words, Aria let out the sharpest cry. Almost like a squeal.

“You are sooo going to regret that.”

—*——*—

“I still can’t get over how everyone’s so okay about being this close to the battle, without any barriers or anything,” Celeste said, her eyes lingering on the Dachsbun and the two other Fidough—Crouton and Ciabatta—patching up the battlefield as they trailed behind Paul back into the bakery. She caught a glimpse of a man behind the counter then. With greying hair that hinted at once being as golden as Paul’s, Celeste had little doubt who this was. His accent, thick and familiar, reminded her of her grandad’s (her dad, though Paldean as well, had mostly lost it).

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The bakery’s owner congratulated her on the match, but threw a jab at his son for getting too cocky.

Lorelei leaned in towards the counter with newfound interest. “You must be Dachsbun’ actual trainer?” she asked. “Does she also fight here?”

So much for random battles not replacing “structured training”, eh?

The notion seemed to tickle the baker. “Heavens no,” he answered. “We keep the higher-level stuff away from the pastries. Wouldn’t want to make an even bigger mess.”

Lorelei’s sigh was all disappointment as they veered into a corridor beside the counter. The deeper they ventured towards the kitchen, the more intoxicating the blend of aromas became. Paul was explaining how regulars always came to have a coffee and watch some battle when the scent of sugar, spices, and fresh dough took over.

“No Gyms on Sevii means this is as close as many get to seeing Pokémon battles outside of their TVs. Makes for a unique experience, you know?” he said, opening the large metal door to the kitchen.

Aria, who’d been perched atop Celeste’s head since their victory (as if she needed an excuse for that), felt soft and relaxed until the kitchen door swung open. She instantly perked up, then.

The kitchen, gleaming with stainless steel surfaces and professional looking equipment, managed to retain the outside vibe. A window framed a view of a small garden where reddening berry bushes and herbs sparkled in the sunlight. Beneath the window stood a large basket with colourful fruit and, closer by, a cook was completely emerged in Poké Puff-making. Dry versions of the herbs outside stood among jars labelled with all sorts of ingredients: combee honey, raw chocolate beans, and many others.

Yet, for all its wonders, Celeste’s gaze—and Aria’s—was drawn to the sight of croissants and cinnamon rolls cooling on a countertop. And then to the cakes. And the churros being fished out of hot oil by another cook.

They had churros. Churros! How was she to keep focus?

A snap over her head brought Celeste back.

“Aria, no!” The words burst out as soon as she noticed her Eevee was already making a beeline for the croissants. The cook there shot them an annoyed look, and Celeste mumbled an apology, her eyes flicking to Paul as she grabbed her Eevee. “Sorry,” she repeated, then glancing at Lori, who was clinging to her Frigibax tightly. Perl was calm, luckily, her focus on gnawing the Corsola stub from the previous day.

“It’s all good,” Paul assured, guiding them towards a door that led to another much smaller kitchen. “That’s our… Well, I call it our lab,” he explained, a little shy. “These days I’d say it’s much more mine than dad’s. Since we had such a fun battle, I thought I’d bake you guys something special…”

Aria let out a howl, eyes locked on the door to the bigger kitchen, and her fur all spiked up. “Guess she wants the croissants,” Celeste sighed, only to be met with a bark from her Pokémon. “And the cinnamon rolls… Is it too much to ask you to have manners for once?” she murmured. Thankfully, that made Paul laugh.

“Alright, Aria, how about we strike a deal?” he bent down, meeting the Eevee eye to eye. “You try my special first and we negotiate the pastry situation afterward.” Aria eyed him warily, but a reassuring bark from Baguette, now recovering in a corner, seemed to mellow her scepticism. Paul, seizing the moment, fetched a Pecha Berry. “See, I’m all for a good battle, but my true calling? It’s right here.” He gestured around the kitchen.

He then stared at the berry. Pausing, as if to gather his thoughts.

“Food’s the family business, but I want to expand it. To think about Pokémon just as much as humans.” He glanced from Aria to Celeste. “Imagine food that’s not just nutritious for your team but also delightful. Something that brings out the best in them.”

Lorelei edged closer, a hand tentatively stroking her Frigibax. “Like some fancy kibble?”

Celeste snorted. “He said delightful, Lori. Bet it’s more like Poffins. Maybe gourmet Poffins!”

Paul shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “It’s neither, and it’s both.” He ran his free hand over an array of ingredients. “Did you know that wild Fortress who feed on certain nuts and apricots end up tougher than those stuck on standard kibble?”

The girls shared a look, but Paul kept going, words coming out fast.

“And take this recent fighting competition. A Hawlucha, raised on a soy farm, outperformed all the larger adversaries.” His gaze drifted to the garden. “And word is, the fastest Cyclizar in Paldea live near a Nanab berry grove.”

Celeste tried to keep up, nodding along. “Uh-huh… very… promising?”

“It’s the vitamins,” Paul explained, finally putting the berry down. “There’s this research group in Jubilife I’ve been chatting with. They’re onto how specific diets can enhance Pokémon’s abilities, like how certain nuts can fortify shells or proteins can boost muscle development.”

Lorelei’s brow furrowed. “But isn’t kibble meant to be nutritious?”

Paul grimaced. “It’s kinda one-size-fits-all. Bland, too. The Jubilife researchers think tailoring vitamins to a Pokémon’s performance goals will be the next big thing in training. But why stop at supplements? Why not make meals that cater to each Pokémon’s needs and preferences? We’re testing this out with Focaccia. We drafted her a meal plan to boost her aptitude for barriers and are already noting improvements.”

“You seem to really know about this, huh?” Celeste said, both impressed and ashamed when she recalled Aria licking pancake batter off the floor this morning. Her ensuing laughter was awkward when she told him her Eevee would definitely, a hundred per cent, want the healthy food. Aria herself seemed less than convinced, but Paul had a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’m happy to hear that,” he beamed. “I’d be thrilled to whip up something for your entire teams as well, both yours and Lorelei’s.” He pulled out a notebook from his apron, ready to jot down details. “Just need a bit of info on them.”

—*——*—

Celeste quickly found out Paul’s father kept a tight grip on his son’s more creative endeavours. “Stuck in the past,” she’d heard the boy grumble more than once. His dad was all about the recipes that had been tried and tested, claiming that personalised meals weren’t commercial. He was right, obviously—a bakery was a business, after all. Still, even Lori, with her eyebrow perpetually raised at this sort of thing, found herself drawn into whatever it was Paul’d been doing.

“It’s not practical,” she told him, leaning back against the counter while keeping one eye on her Frigibax. “Trainers rely on Pokémon centres and neatly packed dry kibble is easy for the road. Especially when you have to feed a Mamoswine.”

Paul simply shrugged, his pen dancing across the page of his notebook. “Those researchers I mentioned are developing supplements. But who would want to live off dry food and pills?”

Lori cracked a smile. “Sound efficient.”

“Bo-ring,” Celeste grimaced, her eyes on her Pokémon playing with Baguette and another Fidough. The entire team was out now. Paul was hoping to get a sense of their dietary preferences. Lori’s Pokémon, sadly, were too large for the kitchen. “Food’s supposed to be fun. Hey… is that an Ice-Type thing? Powder doesn’t really care about what I feed her.”

“I’m not an Ice-Type, Celeste.” Lori gave her a look. “Perhaps avoid feeding her those overly sweet pancakes?”

Paul glanced at the Vulpix. “Right… Less sugar, focus on agility, stamina,” he muttered, still deep in his notes.

Celeste let out a heavy sigh. “I tried the kibble in the Pokémon Centre,” she said. “Powder’s not picky. She eats when she’s hungry but never really gets too excited, like Aria does. Anyway… what does Cryogonal eat?”

Lori shot her an amused look. “Whoever it freezes.”

“Who…ever?”

Before Lori could dive into something… probably gruesome, Paul cut in. “We’re down to your Eevee now.” He waved his notebook.

“Like I told you, chocolate’s her absolute favourite,” Celeste smiled, spotting Aria perched atop of Pat to sneakily swipe some goodies off a table. She’d intervene, but the Fidough seemed to have it under control.

“I got that. Chocolate, fried things, sugar.” He chuckled. “She has a terrible diet that we need to address. But for now, what’s the play here? Speed, stamina, defence? It changes, depending on her evolution path.”

“Right... that…”

Lori inched closer. “Didn’t you want a Leaf—”

Celeste quickly covered her mouth, glancing at Aria to ensure she hadn’t heard.

Ever since her Eevee refused the Thunder Stone—which Celeste still kept, just in case—they had steered clear of evolution talks. At the Icefall Festival, she pointed to some Glaceon, telling Aria it was cool. Like always, she scoffed and almost picked a fight with the Ice-Type.

“It’s up to Aria,” Celeste whispered. “I don’t want to pressure her into anything.”

Lori just stared, eyebrow still raised.

Even softer, Celeste added, “I’m not forcing her into a decision by summer or anything.”

“You might have to, depending on your choices going forward,” the ice specialist pointed out. “There’s a reason you don’t see Eevee during the conference.”

Celeste’s gaze returned to Aria, now in a standoff with one of the Fidough who’d also climbed on the Slowpoke’s back. Sometimes, Celeste wondered if Aria would surprise her one day, evolving on her own. A mischievous Umbreon or a capricious Sylveon, probably. It fitted her.

“Here’s the thing,” Celeste turned back to the others. “I can backtrack on my choices. Worst-case scenario is just another trip with mum. But Aria? She can’t go back on evolution. No Pokémon can.”

“Life’s like that for all of us, Pokémon just make it more obvious,” Paul said, closing his notebook and picking through some berries. “Kinda ironic for a trainer who’s unwilling to make those calls to end up with so many Pokémon who get split evolutions.”

Celeste opened her mouth to reply, but a sudden thud cut her off. Aria had abandoned her spot on Pat’s back and was now darting after the Fidough, her teeth sparking with wisps of shadowy energy.

“Would you look at that?” Lori remarked. “Evolution or not, she’s growing up.”

Celeste snorted. “If you call that growing up.”

“That’s Bite. It’s a new move for her, isn’t it?”

—*——*—

As soon as Paul began cooking, Celeste and Lori got shoved out of the kitchen. Now, they were sitting at a table tucked away in the back of the courtyard, half-watching Paul’s father and one of the Fidough battle a Zubat. Powder was the only one really paying any attention.

And that was all thanks to Aria, who was being impossible.

After realising she could Bite with the dark smoke and all, she’d decided everything was game. That included the chair, Pat’s tail and even Perl’s chew toy, which snapped in half. Amazing right? There Celeste was, impressed that her Eevee could bite through literal rock but scrambling to fix the Corsola stub while Lori tried calming her bawling Frigibax.

Everyone in the bakery was just thrilled with the entire situation. Nothing like jazz with touches of a crying dragon, huh?

Fun. No mean stares at all.

It took an entire Pokémon battle plus a quarter hour of pure despair for Celeste to spot salvation in the form of a guy accompanied by a Sudowoodo at the counter. She practically begged them to fix the broken horn. It wasn’t perfect in the end, but hey, Perl took it and calmed down so… win?

Lori’s response to all that was a stiffed groan as she melted on the table. Even Aria offered a guilty, apologetical bark at that. All Celeste could think was she never saw Lori groan before.

“Cheer up. We’ve got dessert coming, and it’s even supposed to be healthy,” Celeste tried, flashing a grin that felt more awkward than reassuring. She paused, unsure how to continue. “Can’t… Can’t you leave her in a daycare? Those’re great with teaching young Pokémon. It helped me tons when Powder’d just hatched. I even took Aria along…”

Lori’s next groan morphed into a sigh. “Any daycare would take a cute rare Vulpix or an Eevee.”

“It’s not an Eevee, it’s an Aria,” Celeste smiled. “But yeah, she was pampered like a queen there. Bet she just lazed around all day.”

“Well, regardless, no one takes a dragon.” Lori readjusted her glasses and herself, leaning back on her chair. “Day-cares, stables, even reached out to the Mahogany Town Gym. But nothing. They’re not set up to handle a Pokémon like Perl.” She slumped again. “And here I was thinking I could handle it.”

“You’re the best trainer I know… If that’s worth anything.”

“Best?” Lori’s laugh was short, bitter. “Maybe one day… Right now, I bet he also has seven badges. And here I am, fretting over who will look after Perl during my gym challenge.”

Celeste frowned. “He?”

“Someone who tried to get the same Pokémon as me once.”

“The rival you mentioned?”

Lori’s gaze dropped. She was much calmer now. “You actually payed attention?”

“I always do.” Celeste leaned in, a grin growing on her lips, but she paused when her friend looked back at her with that eyebrow raised. “Come on… most of the time, at least,” she tried. “Yesterday you told me I should get a rival… just like you. Which… makes no sense. Considering how battles are a waste of time.”

Lori kept the eyebrow up. “Never said they were a waste, just that they don’t beat real training. It’s about discipline and structure. Something we’re surely missing out on today.”

Celeste scanned the scene, her gaze drifting from Dachsbun tidying up the field to Fidough serving the costumers, landing finally on their own Pokémon. Frigibax calmed. Aria with the confidence of a victory and a new move. And Powder retelling Pat about the battle (probably). This had been a good day. They grew, and they learned. It turned out she even picked up a lot about nutrition of all things. Paul even said he was going to talk to his Jubilife friends to make a meal plans with all the vitamins needed for her team.

“I don’t know,” she turned back to her friend. “Feels like today was productive. Bet even Powds learned stuff by watching that last battle. How’d the saying goes? All work and no play and all that?”

Lori thought about it for a moment. “You’d rather it was all play and no work?”

“Why not a bit of both?” Celeste cocked her head. “If Paul can make treats that are both tasty and healthy, why shouldn’t training also be fun?”

“Would you eat pastries every day?” Lori countered, though the answer came from someone else.

“With my baking, you just might.”

Paul wheeled over a dinner cart, and by the glacê of a G-Max Alcremie, there was a feast there. A unique dish per Pokémon, each plate reflecting what he’d learned of them and gleaming with deliciousness. For Aria, an eclair that was a mash-up of ground cocoa, berries, and nuts, all for that energy and muscle boost. “No added sugar,” Paul said, making Aria give him the side-eye. One little taste changed her mind, though. The Eevee’s pupils dilated and her tail swirled around as she held off a squeal.

Pat, who never quite learned he couldn’t handle spiciness, got a zesty, oat-based gingerbread cookie, its crunch amped up with seeds and nuts for that extra kick of zinc and iron. He was just as delighted as Aria.

As the first two dug into their food, Paul crouched down to serve Powder and Perl. He avoided ice-cream, since they’d eaten that a lot recently, and the Vulpix, in particular, looked uninterested. Powder gave her salted pistachio honey tart a wary sniff, her glance flicking to Celeste, who told her eating that would make her faster and stronger. Her tentative lick soon turned to enthusiastic devouring. She was enjoying it. Finally, Perl got some tough, pushy candy thing that immediately entertained her, making her forget the Corsola’s stub completely.

“This, my friends, is a roaring success!” Paul declared, turning his attention to Celeste and Lori. They got the traditional human desserts—sugar-filled, rather than healthy.

“Roaring? Come on, you can be more punny,” Celeste said, almost crying out of sheer joy as she bit into a churro. “Should be a rising success or something like that.”

“It’s already a hit, so ‘rising’ makes no sense.” Lori nibbled on her cinnamon roll, all composed again.

Celeste’s smile was all sunshine. “It’s a hit ‘cause you baked it with loaf.”

The pun fell flat, except for Celeste and Aria, who couldn’t hold on to their own laughter. This felt like the cherry on top of an already amazing day.

Now all they had to do was find Delia and hope she wasn’t mad they got side-tracked.