Faced with Nemona's frank enthusiasm spilling over, Geeta felt the dignity she'd cultivated for years as Top Champion cracking. She inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly—as if to vent rising blood pressure along with the air.
She gave up on reasoning with Nemona. Experience said: arguing with a girl whose brain holds little but "battle" is inefficient and exhausting.
At last Geeta sighed—there was no fixing Nemona. She turned back to Cynthia and Jason, managing a complicated look—a mix of resignation, headache, and a thread of pride—and introduced the uninvited guest.
"Allow me to introduce her," she said in the tone of a guardian presenting a brilliant but incorrigible child. "This is Nemona—just elected Student Council President of Naranja Academy, and currently our finest student."
Here, a teacher's pride crept into her face. She looked at Nemona, eyes softening with approval. "Her growth is blazing; the most battle-gifted youth I've seen. I wager it won't be long before she clears the Champion Assessment and becomes Paldea's next Champion-level Trainer."
High praise—especially from the Paldea Chair. Cynthia, smiling faintly until now, gave the girl a second look—now evaluating a future peer, not a rash junior. If she truly had the talent Geeta claimed, Cynthia wanted to know her. Cross-regional ties among the strong were always worthwhile.
Gast was simpler—she circled Nemona, curious. She didn't grasp what "Champion" meant among humans; her logic was basic. That woman Geeta—a Champion. The golden-haired gentle strong lady—a Champion. Jason respected both. So "Champion" = "very strong." This black-haired, green-streaked girl—destined to be one? Then she must be strong too. Gast's eyes labeled her "powerhouse" on the spot.
Just as the mood warmed, Jason broke the harmony. He glanced at the smugly praised Nemona—and turned to Geeta.
"Chairwoman—question. Do you let unbalanced students become Student Council President?"
"Unbalanced?" Geeta blinked. She frowned at Jason, puzzled. "Unbalanced? Impossible. I saw her file myself. In every course—theory, battle practicum, Pokémon care—she's uniformly 'Excellent.' How could she be unbalanced?"
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught Nemona's reaction. The girl who had just stood tall under praise blushed crimson at the word. The red climbed to her ears; her battle-bright eyes flickered—dodging Jason's gaze. She knew exactly what he meant.
"Jason! Don't say that!" Nemona hadn't imagined this reunion—she'd pictured a dozen scenes from Iono's stream, but not him calling her "unbalanced" in front of the Chair. So mean!
Shame stung; she lunged, grabbed Jason off the desk—hoping to shut him up by force.
Jason refused to hush—instead, he cranked the volume like a megaphone. "Chairwoman, you don't know! Your 'excellent' President's throw accuracy is criminally low! Out in the wild, I stood still—she threw several balls—missed every one! Tell me that's not a serious imbalance!"
The office fell silent. Cynthia coughed lightly. "For a Trainer, missing Poké Balls… is a bit of an imbalance."
Nemona flushed deeper, shame trembling through her. A would-be strongest Trainer—brilliant in battle—but a glaring flaw in the most basic "catching" phase. She'd never told anyone; now Jason stripped it bare before two Champions. She wanted to Dig a hole and vanish.
"No! Stop! Don't say it!" She scrambled to cover Jason's mouth.
Geeta looked at her "almost perfect" prodigy and realized—Jason was right. She hadn't imagined this kind of weakness. The picture wrote itself: Nemona, Champion-tier, beats down a target in the wild—then whiffs ten straight throws at an immobilized Pokémon. Ridiculous… and funny. The corner of her mouth twitched. She swallowed a smile and cleared her throat.
"In light of this, for the well-rounded development of Paldean Trainers, Academy coursework does need reform." She fixed Nemona with a straight face. "I've decided—next term we'll institute a mandatory exam: Precision Poké Ball Throwing. As Student Council President, you'll set the example. Practice."
"Un… understood, Chairwoman."
Her face collapsed from mortified to hollow. An exam—on throwing Poké Balls? This wasn't targeted bullying… was it?
While Nemona spiraled into "remedial hell," Jason slipped from her loosened hands—arched gracefully into Cynthia's arms. She caught him without missing a beat. Jason burrowed into the warmth and glanced at Nemona—who was still shutting down. Cynthia's presence meant safety; no one would try anything "improper" with a Champion holding him. Little Nemona, he thought, trying to make a move on me. Did you ask sis Cynthia?
Nemona ground her teeth as Jason took refuge with the Sinnoh Champion and even dared to wink at her. The distance was tricky—she wasn't afraid of Cynthia so much as aware that snatching the Ditto in front of them all would be… impolite. Now she remembered manners? Geeta would faint if she knew.
"Miss Cynthia," Geeta said again, a smile creeping back, "if you don't mind—take Nemona along as well."
Everyone blinked. Geeta's calm returned. "I want my President to get more field experience—to see bigger than school duels. Exploring Area Zero with the Sinnoh Champion will be invaluable."
Cynthia weighed Nemona with a few more looks—then nodded. "Alright." She was curious; if Geeta rated the girl that highly, she wanted to see. An extra battle maniac wasn't a problem—and in a harsh, empty zone, one more voice might liven the road.
Geeta was pleased. Two birds—Nemona would gain priceless experience—and she'd be off Geeta's radar for a bit. "Then it's settled," she said. "There's a Zero Gate on a cliff east of Medali. Enter there the day after tomorrow. Use the next two days to prepare."
Cynthia shrugged—no problem. Nothing urgent in Sinnoh; two days was fine.
As she turned to leave with Jason, he hopped down again and to Geeta's desk.
"Chairwoman—one more thing. Do you know any Trainers with Tinkaton? I'd like a few rounds of sparring in the next two days."
If there was time, why waste it? Fill the Tinkaton Dex too—more forms for Area Zero, more options.
Geeta tapped her desk, mind sifting her vast network. "Tinkaton… yes, I have a perfect candidate. I'll contact her and send her to Cynthia's hotel this afternoon."
"Thanks," Jason said, and hopped back to Cynthia's arms. Cynthia sighed; since cuddling a Gible, Jason had grown… clingy—but wouldn't let her catch him. Why cling, then? What went on in that jelly brain?
Seeing them leave, Nemona followed, joy bubbling. In the bright HQ corridor, curiosity hit critical. She kept her eyes on Jason nestled in Cynthia's arm. "Um, Jason!" she ventured. "I think I heard Chairwoman say—you got a Trainer license?"
Jason peeped out, nodded.
The thunderbolt hit. Her brain blue-screened. "Then… doesn't that mean…" Her voice trembled. "I can't catch you anymore?"
Her first dream had been to catch the extraordinary Ditto as her strongest partner. Now—he was a Trainer—same status. The cooked duck not only flew—it came back a Michelin chef.
Jason's mischievous streak purred. "Of course! From today on, I'm the Pokémon you can never have!"
"Waaah—don't say that!" she wailed, dream cracking.
After a moment, she rallied—eyes blazing anew. "Jason!" Her voice rang. "I saw you in Iono's stream—you're strong! Please—be my rival!"
If not partners, then rivals—another bond. Jason's refusal was instant. "No."
"I didn't hear that! Jason—be my rival!"
"I said no."
"Unless you agree, I won't stop! I sincerely want you as my rival!"
He rolled his eyes and answered with silence. She took it as assent. "So—you accept, right?" He quietly guided Cynthia's arm to leave. She flashed in front, arms out to block. "Be. My. Ri. Val!"
Jason sighed. Nothing for it—if he didn't nod, she'd loop that line for two days and all the way to Area Zero. For peace, he gave a perfunctory nod.
Nemona exploded into a dazzling smile. "Great!" She hopped like a spring.
Cynthia laughed outright. The girl was genuinely fun.
Then Nemona had another thought. "Rival—let's swap contacts! Then I can find you anytime to challenge you!"
Jason shook his head. "I don't have a Rotom Phone."
"Ah?" She slapped her forehead—right, he was a Pokémon. "No problem—that's easy! I'll buy you one!"
He didn't refuse. He knew her father was an exec at Paldea's Rotom Phone giant—a top model was a bottle of water to her. Something about her "I'll buy you whatever you want" lit a strange "kept by a rich lady" feeling in Jason—pleasant, even.
She dialed a number; fifteen seconds later, it was done. "Dad! It's me—HQ—send a top-model Rotom Phone now! Urgent!"
Less than five minutes later, a suited "secretary" arrived huffing with a branded box. Nemona pounced, snatched the box, tossed a thanks, and sprinted back.
"Here—yours." She handed it over with a "praise me" grin.
Jason hopped down, wrapped the box, and popped it open. A red, sleek, edge-to-edge flagship gleamed. He touched the cool metal; in his tiny body, the big phone looked comical. He poked the screen with a tendril—Rotom! chirped a sprite.
"I'll teach you!" Nemona slid into "Instructor Nemona" mode. "Step one—scan your Trainer ID to activate."
Jason "spat" out his new card and scanned. Data cascaded:
[Identity confirmed…]
[Registered Trainer (Paldea): Jason]
[Binding… successful!]
[Welcome, Trainer Jason! Your Rotom Phone is activated!]
A strange feeling rose—now he was truly in the world as a Trainer. Nemona showed him functions—map, Dex app (empty), comms ("let's add each other"), camera, and more apps (streaming, PvP games). But she quickly found her lessons redundant—Jason learned at dazzling speed, tapping and sliding precisely, even tweaking advanced settings. By the time she named a function, he had it mastered.
"Wow, Jason—you learn so fast! You're so smart!" she breathed, stars in her eyes. Her rival was unstoppable—even with human tech. Jason, flustered by the raw praise, hid in the phone's UI until they traded contacts. Seeing her name at the top of his list, she finally eased off. "Then—rival—I'm off! Day after tomorrow we enter Area Zero—I need to prep!"
She whirled and dashed out, expression flipping from satisfaction to battle-fire. If even Jason grinds like mad to get stronger—how can I slack? I'll train like hell these two days. Then I'll show him real power. He'll see—so what if I miss throws? My strength is real.
She came like a storm—and left like one, leaving a deep impression. Cynthia hugged Jason, watching Nemona vanish, and smiled. "What an interesting girl."
Back at the suite, Cynthia set Jason on the sofa and pulled out her own elegant Rotom Phone. "Alright, Jason—since you're a Trainer now, let's swap contacts like Nemona said."
He had no objection. Moments later, "Cynthia" and "Nemona" sat side by side in his list—and he felt a very specific thrill.
I've got Nemona-senpai and sis Cynthia in my contacts. Who's jealous now?
Gast, meanwhile, was fascinated by the glowing, talking picture-brick. She drifted in circles over Jason, eyes fixed. She didn't know what a "Rotom Phone" was—but it looked fun.
At last she couldn't hold back. "Jason… I want a Rotom Phone too," she whispered, yearning.
Jason looked up, smiled gently. "You need a Trainer ID to activate it. You don't have one—so even if you had a phone, you couldn't use it."
Her eyes dimmed; her purple mist thinned. "I see…" She spun in place, glum. "So jealous—you've got an ID and a fun thing."
He patted her. "You can play with mine." Her eyes lit. "Really? Jason, you're the best—makes me want to lay an egg for you!"
Jason: "???"
Not so fast! He wasn't ready. Mercy was fine—no legacy. Where do I even buy Pokémon-safe balloons?
Just then, a white slender finger tapped his brand-new screen. Tok tok. He looked up—Cynthia's amused eyes. "Half an hour in and you've got phone addiction? Do you still want that Lucario training this morning?"
"Yes!"
Battle instinct snapped online; he killed the screen and tucked the phone away. No way he'd miss sparring a Champion's ace for a toy.
The morning blurred under Lucario's hand—Jason transformed through forms, but aura saw through everything; perfect "Force Palm" timing put him down again and again. He felt like a toddler swinging at a world-class boxer—beaten to a pulp, yet absorbing skills by the fistful.
At lunch, they hit the restaurant. Jason sprawled on Garchomp's back, battered but buzzing. After a moment, he hauled out the phone again—full charge—and decided to expand his "social circle." Iono's contact, as a famous Gym Leader and streamer, was easy to find.
He tapped "Add Friend," thought a moment, and typed a username fitting his grand vision—and a cheeky verification line.
…
User: Pokémon Aiming to Be the World's #1 Trainer
Message: Iono-chan—approve me! Ditto-sama is coming in!
…
Send.
Far away at the Levincia Gym—
"Alright! Thanks to our challenger for an awesome battle—and to everyone in chat for your support! Today's Gym stream ends here—don't forget to like and follow! See you next time—bye-bye!"
Iono posed mid-stage with a beaming idol smile and a peace sign—and killed the feed. The moment the signal cut, the smile fell, replaced by bone-deep fatigue. "Ugh, I'm beat… It's so much more relaxing with Jason. Streaming suddenly seems boring—I just want to hang with Jason."
She shuffled to the green room, dropped her Ampharos jacket on the sofa, and flopped. As she closed her eyes, her Rotom Phone chimed and lit. She frowned, grabbed it—expecting some clueless GG brand or fan who'd scraped her private number.
One glance—and her heterochromatic eyes flew wide.
A friend request:
…
User: Pokémon Aiming to Be the World's #1 Trainer
Message: Iono-chan—approve me! Ditto-sama is coming in!
[Accept] [Reject]
~~~
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