Caitlin froze.
The moment she saw the outfit the newcomer was wearing, her mind blanked.
Sure, she had noticed someone in the hotel room's shower earlier—but she'd assumed it was Liko. Clearly, she'd assumed wrong.
Because the person who stepped out of the bathroom wasn't Liko at all—it was a girl she'd never seen before.
And that girl's face was flushed red with a mix of anger and embarrassment, as if something very questionable had just happened between her and Haru.
Wait—what had just happened in this room?
Who was this random girl who suddenly appeared in Haru's hotel suite?
And more importantly—why did there always seem to be a different woman around Haru every other day?!
A storm of questions exploded in Caitlin's head.
The newly arrived girl—Nessa, though Caitlin didn't know that yet—didn't even glance at her.
After switching off the bathroom light, she strode straight toward Haru.
SLAP!
Both palms slammed hard against the wooden desk as she leaned forward, eyes blazing.
"So, care to explain what the hell this is supposed to be?!"
"You said you were picking out new clothes for me! How am I supposed to walk outside in this?!"
Oh, she was livid. Red-hot furious.
She had trusted Haru's "fashion sense," thinking he'd picked something classy or stylish for her comeback shoot—but what she got instead was… a child's swimsuit paired with fishnet stockings.
As a professional model, Nessa had worn a lot of daring outfits before.
But this? This was a new low even by the standards of Galar's fashion scene.
She had wanted to head straight back home to Galar—but how could she now, dressed like this?
"Come on," Haru replied calmly, pouring himself another cup of tea. "You should be grateful you've got something that rare to wear at all."
He smiled lazily. "Don't underestimate that outfit. I picked each piece carefully. Most people wouldn't even get the chance to try them on."
He raised his cup slightly, as if reminiscing. "That top was originally made for Mewtwo. I was going to, uh, convince her to shrink herself a little to fit in, but she refused—apparently her form's fixed. Tragic, really."
"And the stockings? Those were for my real girlfriend, Lillie. Sadly, I never got the chance to give them to her… and honestly, I'm not sure they'd even fit her figure."
He leaned back, satisfied. "So yeah, Nessa—you're wearing the best of what I've got."
Nessa.
The name made Caitlin blink. It sounded familiar—like she'd heard it in some tournament coverage or a magazine before—but she couldn't quite place it.
Still, if Haru was dealing with her, she couldn't be just anyone.
Then again… when had any of the girls around Haru ever been "normal"?
Looks alone weren't enough to hold that man's attention.
"…Fine," Nessa said finally, taking a deep breath, clearly trying to hold back the volcano of frustration inside her.
"But at least get me something normal to wear, okay?"
"You're so hard to please," Haru sighed, shaking his head with mock helplessness.
"Fine, fine. For now, just keep those on."
He tossed her a paper bag that had been sitting on the couch.
"I did save your life, you know. Is showing off a bit of modeling skill really that hard for you?"
"Even models don't wear things this ridiculous," Nessa shot back, glaring.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic. I've heard of people using body paint as clothes before. Isn't that a step bolder than this?"
"I'm not that kind of model!"
If Haru hadn't been her savior, Nessa would've challenged him to a battle right then and there—though she had to admit… she probably wouldn't win.
"Alright, alright," Haru said, coughing lightly, his tone shifting to something more serious. "Let's get to the point. What exactly happened to you?"
"Don't tell me you just got swept away while swimming. You're a Water-type Gym Leader, not a rookie tourist."
The question made Nessa's anger evaporate into awkward silence.
"Can I… not answer that?" she muttered.
"Nope," Haru said immediately. "I'm curious now."
"Fine."
Nessa hesitated, glancing briefly at Caitlin before deciding not to make her leave.
"This all started with the 'World's Greatest Trainer Tournament'—the one Galar's hosting next month."
"The what now?" Haru's interest piqued instantly.
"It's a new event Leon came up with. He invited tons of top trainers from across the world—and made it mandatory for all Galar Gym Leaders to compete."
"Champions aren't allowed to enter, though. The highest rank permitted is Elite Four level, so most people just call it the 'Elite Cup.'"
Just mentioning it seemed to sour Nessa's mood even more.
"And that led to you drowning how, exactly?" Haru asked, sipping his tea.
To him, Leon organizing tournaments was nothing surprising.
The guy was basically Red 2.0—an obsessive battle junkie.
Even after losing to the protagonist in Sword and Shield, Leon had gone right back to hosting battles and tournaments, running the Battle Tower, and popping up wherever there was a strong opponent to challenge.
But the rule banning Champions from competing—that was interesting. It meant Leon couldn't go fishing for easy wins himself.
So maybe, for once, this wasn't about ego. Maybe Leon just wanted to push Galar's trainers to reach new heights.
That was what made him different from most other Champions—his deep pride in his home region.
He wasn't just fighting for himself; he was trying to raise the next generation.
Which explained his closeness with Chairman Rose back in the day.
As Haru pondered this, Nessa continued, her voice low.
"The tournament itself isn't the problem," she said. "The real issue is one of the rules—specifically for us Gym Leaders."
"All Gym Leaders must make it to the top thirty-two. Fail to do so, and you lose your title."
"You can reapply later, sure—but getting your license revoked like that? It's humiliating."
"So yeah… I've been training non-stop for weeks."
Her shoulders slumped slightly.
The Gym Leaders of Galar were no pushovers—but even with all her effort, Nessa knew she wasn't among the strongest.
Raihan was out of reach, obviously. And she didn't have much confidence even against Piers from Spikemuth—even without his Dynamax advantage.
It was frustrating. Maddening, even.
Why couldn't she be as strong as Raihan?
If she were Raihan, she wouldn't be panicking over something like this.
Right then, Haru suddenly interrupted her train of thought.
"Let me ask," he said, swirling his teacup lazily. "When the rules say 'Champions can't compete,' do they mean people who've ever been Champions, or anyone as strong as a Champion—or just the current ones?"
Nessa met his gaze seriously. "That's the biggest problem—it means current Champions can't compete."
"In other words, former Champions and those who've been dethroned are totally free to join in."
She hesitated, then added, "I've even heard rumors that Blue from Kanto's coming too. Oh—and that girl you left behind in Galar, Korrina? She's apparently entering with a girl named Gloria."
At that, her expression twisted slightly in frustration.
If the rule had banned all those monsters who'd ever reached Champion level, things might have been manageable—making top 32 wouldn't be that hard.
But no, the rule only blocked the current Champions.
It was like if Yu-Gi-Oh! suddenly banned every current meta deck but unbanned everything else on the forbidden list.
Sure, there weren't that many Champions in the world—but "not many" was relative.
In Galar alone, there were several heavy-hitters who'd either been Champions or come dangerously close.
Take Peony, Chairman Rose's brother—he was a retired Champion.
And Rose himself once finished runner-up in the League Championships.
Then there was Leon's mentor, Mustard—that was a true heavyweight.
Only a handful of Galar insiders knew that Mustard, the kindly old man running the dojo on the Isle of Armor, was a living legend who once held two Legendary Pokémon at the same time.
He'd been Champion for eighteen straight years, undefeated the entire time before finally retiring.
By sheer legendary status, the old man made Leon look like a rookie streamer.
Nessa had never fought him personally, but she'd heard the stories—about the Single-Strike and Rapid-Strike Urshifu, whose blows could pierce through Protect itself.
And that was just Galar.
From other regions, there would be countless ex-Champions and Elite-level trainers—many stronger than the standard Elite Four.
Including, of course, the man sitting in front of her—Haru himself.
A trainer with both Legendary and Mythical Pokémon?
Just the mention of his name would make him a top seed.
So yeah—on paper, "Top 32" sounded generous.
In reality, it was a bloodbath.
"So let me guess," Haru said, deadpan. "You got so anxious about the rule that you panicked and got swept out to sea?"
"Of course not!" Nessa snapped. "I was training by the coast for the tournament. I even bought a new swimsuit—the seller said it was their newest design, supposedly 'impossible to drown in' thanks to some special material."
"I put it on, sent Drednaw and the others to warm up, then went fishing for a bit."
"Next thing I knew, I hooked a Wailmer. It blasted me with a Hydro Pump and escaped!"
"You can't imagine how huge that Wailmer was! I've never seen one that big!"
Haru thought for a moment, recalling Wailmer's usual weight… then looked at Nessa's slim arms. His expression grew somewhere between disbelief and amusement.
But he didn't question it—just gestured for her to continue.
"And then?"
"Then," Nessa said, her voice dropping, "my swimsuit suddenly started bubbling. Like, a lot. Before I knew it, I was wrapped up head-to-toe in foam—completely cocooned! And right at that moment, a Wailord showed up."
"That Wailord…" She clenched her teeth. "That Wailord was blind as a damn Zubat!"
---
[A Temporal Shift, Courtesy of Dialga…]
Behold—a different scene unfolds. In Cynthia's hotel room, something… significant was happening.
Out of concern that someone might barge in again, Caitlin had carefully closed Cynthia's door when she left—quietly, to avoid drawing the Champion's attention in the bathroom.
What she didn't realize was that Cynthia, fresh from her intense "training," was in an oddly hyper-aware state—every sense sharpened.
Even the faint click of the door closing made her pause.
That was odd. Her room contained… several private items she definitely didn't want anyone to see.
If someone had entered—if anyone had seen them—her career as Sinnoh Champion might be over. Again.
With that chilling thought, Cynthia quickly cleaned up and stepped out of the bathroom.
She double-checked her door and window locks first.
No signs of forced entry.
Still, the unease lingered. The floor showed no footprints, but something felt… off.
She inspected her "projects." Nothing missing—except…
Wait. The stack of blank paper seemed smaller than before.
She kept an absurdly large supply, so if she hadn't been so meticulous, she might not have noticed.
Blank sheets going missing might not sound serious—but to Cynthia, it was undeniable proof that someone had been here.
Her room had been breached.
But what had been taken?
Maybe it wasn't stolen physically—maybe the intruder photographed her "works."
She sighed and turned toward the paper bag marked 'To Be Shredded.'
That was where she dumped her failed drafts, intending to destroy them later.
If someone had tampered with that bag, she'd be in trouble.
Serious trouble.
Her reputation might never recover.
Cynthia hesitated, then opened it—only to find that her discarded sketches were gone. In their place was a neat stack of blank paper.
Her drafts had been stolen.
Even for a woman who had faced down gods, that realization made her break out in a cold sweat.
Those sketches weren't her masterpieces, sure—but in the wrong hands, they were still compromising.
This was bad. Really bad.
Who could've done it?
Her first suspects were, of course, Liko and Mew.
Liko, in Cynthia's eyes, had long lost her "sweet, innocent girl" image.
Not after trying to wrestle her for that giant artifact while shouting, "Fill me with the Dark Soul!" like some deranged Soulsborne streamer.
And she kept pestering Haru with absurd excuses like, "Professor Haru's… special energy might help awaken Terapagos faster."
Cynthia still had no clue what "Terapagos" actually was, but Haru and the others clearly cared about it.
Then there was Mew—the chaos gremlin herself. Nothing that creature did would surprise Cynthia anymore.
If Mew ever decided to go all-out, she could probably turn an entire region into a cult state within a year.
So yeah, those two were her prime suspects.
Their motive? Probably just to mess with her and enjoy the panic.
Yes, in Cynthia's mind, they were absolutely those kinds of brats.
Especially Mew. That pink menace was bound to self-destruct one day.
Still… there was another possible culprit—Mewtwo.
Unlike the other two, Mewtwo gave Cynthia a sense of… strange innocence.
Not perverse—just curiously broken, a tsundere born of divine power and social malfunction.
And yes, she could easily imagine Mewtwo stealing those drafts as "research material" for her self-written Book of Ecstasy.
Cynthia had seen that book before. And judging by how Mewtwo treated it, she valued it highly.
If those three were responsible, it wouldn't be too catastrophic.
They'd already seen her at her lowest, anyway.
But if someone else had taken them… then it was really bad.
Aside from Haru and those three, the only people she knew in this hotel were Professor Oak, Misty, and the caretaker of the Alto Mare cathedral.
If any of them had stolen her drafts, Cynthia would just about implode on the spot.
Especially Caitlin—her best friend for over a decade.
"…"
What should she do? Keep investigating—or pretend she didn't know?
Her gaze lingered on the neat stack of notebooks.
No… she had to check with Caitlin first.
Lately, her friend had been oddly curious about her room.
If anyone knew something, it would be her.
And if Caitlin did have them… well, she'd just make up an excuse.
Like, "Mew forced me to do it."
With that, Cynthia stashed away the rest of her drafts and slipped out of her room.
Caitlin's suite wasn't far—barely thirty seconds away.
Now… should she knock, or just walk in?
She hesitated. Proper etiquette said she should knock.
But if Caitlin had taken them, knocking would give her time to hide the evidence.
No—better to barge in and apologize later if she was wrong.
Decision made, Cynthia gripped the doorknob, ready to have her Pokémon telekinetically unlock it—
—only to realize the door was already unlocked.
That wasn't right. Not right at all.
If Caitlin really had her "art," would she seriously leave the door wide open?
Or… had something else happened?
Cynthia's thoughts raced as she slowly pushed the door open.
No one inside. No stolen drafts in sight.
Caitlin was gone.
But if she was out… why hadn't she locked the door?
Cynthia's unease deepened.
Still, she decided to search the room—just to be sure.
She was about to start when she suddenly froze.
From the open doorway next door came two very familiar voices.
Haru.
And Caitlin.
And—judging by what they were saying—the topic of their conversation…
…was her.
Of course, whatever they were talking about wasn't the important part—the real problem was that she now seemed to be cornered at the doorway.
If she tried to leave the room right now, she'd be caught red-handed in an instant. But if she stayed where she was, Haru and Caitlin would surely notice her sooner or later.
She was in an excruciatingly awkward predicament—no matter what she did, there was no good way out.
At this point, there was only one option left…
The girl's gaze slowly drifted toward the wardrobe in the room.
Judging from its size, there was no doubt it could fit a person inside.
Hide. You absolutely cannot be found.
***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.
P@treon/GodDragcell