February 27th, night, the sixteenth day of the lunar new year.
Hearthome City, hot spring resort.
After a full day of driving, soaking in a hot spring to relieve fatigue was undoubtedly an excellent choice.
But clearly, that wasn't the main point.
Natsume stepped into the elegantly decorated lobby, his mind wandering.
Could this be the legendary... fanservice chapter!?
"Dinner is prepared by a three-star Kalosian head chef. The bedrooms and baths are separate, and Pokémon can enter the hot springs together..."
The waitress led the way, the hallway walls adorned with Gyarados ukiyo-e prints.
Hearing this, Natsume immediately lost interest—until Cynthia leaned over and whispered, "Come to my room later."
"T-that... might not be appropriate?"
"It's just for gaming. Don't overthink it."
"Oh, I thought we were going to study Ancient Language together."
Natsume looked at Cynthia, feigning surprise. "What did you think I meant?"
Cynthia smiled gently, her dark gray eyes quietly fixed on Natsume.
"I know. You weren't thinking anything," Natsume nodded.
The resort was sparsely populated. Artificially planted palm trees stood in the night breeze, rustling softly.
The two walked along a pebble-lined corridor, the rhythmic tapping of a bamboo water fountain echoing through the quiet courtyard.
"Some resorts rely on Swinub's sense of smell to locate hot springs," Cynthia remarked, glancing at the dozing Swinub curled up on a mossy rock. "Pokémon truly are miraculous creatures."
"Looks like tourists feed it often," Natsume observed. "It's practically an obese Piloswine by now."
The night wind brushed past them as they reached the hot spring entrance.
"See you later," Cynthia said.
"Don't soak for too long."
"Because I might get dizzy?"
"Because I'll be waiting in your room... and I'll get lonely."
Cynthia rolled her eyes, flicking her fingers dismissively before gracefully walking away with Garchomp.
Natsume muttered to himself, "Doesn't matter. I can just bring Sylveon along anyway."
"Sylveon! (〃＞皿＜)" The Poké Ball shook indignantly.
"Too late. Come on, we're hitting the hot springs!"
In the changing room, a wooden tray with six slots for Poké Balls sat atop the lockers.
Natsume removed his shirt, revealing a toned chest and well-defined abs.
"Truly the physique of a man with Fighting Lv4."
He studied himself in the mirror, murmuring, "If I allocate more points, maybe I can take down Gold barehanded..."
Beating Red was impossible, and defeating Professor Oak required "Ally Switch" shenanigans.
The only way to maintain his status in the group chat was by bullying Gold...
Inside the hot spring, steam curled over damp rocks.
A Buizel floated lazily on its back, while a Munchlax sat at the edge, kicking its feet and devouring macarons prepared by the head chef.
"Don't disturb the others," Natsume called to his team, leading them to a secluded spot.
He sank into the water, mimicking Gengar's blissful expression.
"Gengar~(′▽`〃)" Gengar lounged with a towel draped over its head.
The bald Blastoise submerged with a glug, then resurfaced to adjust its sunglasses.
Natsume's lips twitched.
Good grief, the sunglasses are its true body!
"Blastoise…ヾ(?■_■)" Blastoise's eyes gleamed with hidden intensity.
While seemingly relaxing, it was secretly practicing "Lurking."
"Sylveon~" Sylveon hummed a tune as it waded in, its fur sleek and glossy when wet.
"I'll dry you off later," Natsume promised.
"Sylveon! o(′^｀)o"
"Arcanine~" Arcanine flopped onto the bank, wagging its massive head—Me too!
Natsume snorted. "Dry yourself!"
"Arcanine~! (ㄒoㄒ)"
"Gah! Sirfetch'd~" Sirfetch'd levitated above the water, feathers neatly aligned, cackling like a mad duck.
No training today! Just bliss!
Watching a pure-white duck paddle around was inexplicably hilarious.
Natsume shook his head and leaned back, arms resting on the edge.
His mind drifted to the adjacent bath—specifically, Cynthia—but holy imagery flooded his thoughts instead.
The Holy Light has betrayed me!
Gritting his teeth, Natsume didn't notice Sirfetch'd shudder.
"Sirfetch'd!"
I just wanna laze around! Don't drag me into this!
About half an hour later, the full moon emerged from thin clouds.
It struck Natsume that February 27th was the sixteenth of the lunar month—the first full moon of the new year.
"The moon is fullest on the sixteenth." Memories of the Lantern Festival surfaced.
His parents were likely vacationing in Alola for the new year, while he was about to meet his girlfriend's family...
Scratching his cheek, Natsume rose slowly, letting his skin adjust to the cool air.
"Gengar," he mused, "do you want Dango?"
"Gengar! (ˉ﹃ˉ)"
"I'll ask the chef. If they don't have any, I'll make some from scratch."
"Gengar! (`▽′)"
...
Drying the tsundere Sylveon's fur, ruffling its bow, and watching it flush with anger.
Natsume grinned, his expression shifting slightly: "D-don't use Iron Tail!"
"Heat Rotom, save me!"
Natsume watched as Heat Rotom Ally Switched in, tears streaming from the wind, and nodded thoughtfully:
"Thanks, Rotom… Fire-types resist Steel, probably."
"This is a work injury, Rotom! o(TヘTo)"
Entering Cynthia's room.
Natsume sat on the tatami, casually opening his handheld console.
Soon, Natsume adjusted his posture, leaning against Arcanine's fluffy belly.
Now this was comfort!
Rustle—
The door slid open.
A golden-haired beauty in a yukata, wooden geta clacking, the collar revealing milk-white skin and delicate collarbones.
Her waterfall of golden hair cascaded to her waist, Cynthia's face faintly flushed as she lazily towel-dried her hair.
Natsume froze for a solid two seconds.
"What?" Cynthia glanced over.
"That's… lethal firepower."
"You mean… Garchomp?"
Garchomp, towel slung over its shoulder, looked utterly relaxed: "Garchomp~!"
"…Sure, let's go with that."
"Step out. I'm changing."
"Need help picking?"
"No. I only brought one style."
"Tch."
"No need to look that disappointed…" Cynthia sighed with a wry smile.
Natsume stood. "Want dango? I'll cook."
Cynthia blinked, then smiled. "If you're offering, I'd love some."
Borrowing the kitchen from the head chef—boiling water for glutinous flour, kneading, resting.
Amid the Kalos head chef's cries of "Incroyable!", Natsume plated sesame-filled dango.
The aroma flooded the kitchen, making mouths water.
"Might I… try one? Just one?" the head chef asked nervously.
"Go ahead." Natsume found it odd—it wasn't some imperial dish like "Boiled Cabbage", just dango…
Though his [Cooking Lv5] technique did seem beyond the chef's comprehension.
The chef treated the lone dango like treasure, placing it in his mouth—
Then, tears streamed down his cheeks.
"Home… I see home! The flowers of Vaniville, the song of Fletchling!" he belted like an opera tenor.
Natsume had no energy to complain.
At least the taste-test was handled…
The moon hung cool and bright. Carrying a wooden tray to the veranda, it was nearly 11 PM.
"Gengar! (⊙~⊙)" Gengar gulped a bowl, then froze.
Oh no—it's stuck!
"Togepi doo-ee (′ -｀)"
Togepi sipped dango daintily, sesame dripping as it kicked its feet in delight.
Natsume lifted Togepi, glancing beside him.
Cynthia raised her spoon, blowing softly. Moonlight gilded her golden hair, a halo of warmth.
The full moon glowed overhead, and the little ones gazed up.
"Beautiful."
Natsume leaned back, hands propped behind him, sighing absently.
"If you'd like, I'll stay till sunrise."
Cynthia watched the moon, dango in hand, smiling. "As thanks for the treat."
"I meant you, Cynthia." Natsume looked puzzled. "What'd you mean?"
"I meant the moon."
Cynthia turned abruptly, eyes clear and bright—reflecting him perfectly.
Both kept straight faces, hearts racing. Natsume noted her porcelain ankles,slippers-clad toes, delicate as china in the light.
The wind stilled. Silence. The little ones blinked, wordless.
"So… was that…" Natsume asked, "a confession?"
Cynthia's eyes sparkled as she countered:
"What do you think?"
"Not formal enough."
Natsume met her gaze, firm. "The formal one's my job."
From this angle, her profile curved in a smile, watching the moonlit garden,slippers swaying.
"I might refuse."
"Then I'll ask until you accept." His tone brooked no argument.
Under the moon, Cynthia's cheeks pinked. Her dark gray eyes shimmered, lips petal-soft, curling in a calm, restrained smile:
"Then I'll wait."
The moment etched into memory, unforgettable even years later.
Less "the moon was gentle"—more Cynthia outshone the starry night.
"Alright."
Natsume chuckled, standing. "Dishes. Tomorrow, we meet the family!"
"That's not a formal meeting," Cynthia drawled, still seated.
"Relax, I'll win your grandma over!"
His voice boomed from inside, "Bedtime!"
Cynthia shook her head, golden strands brushing her faint smile—then jolted.
She scrambled up, chasing after him:
"Wait—win her over?! Be polite, you—!"
In the silent courtyard.
Gengar and Garchomp sobbed into handkerchiefs.
"Gengar!! (｀Д｀)"
"Garchomp! (╥﹏╥)"
This is fine. We're fine.
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