Iono stared at her phone screen, a little dazed—her brain blue-screened for a second or two.
Wait… who?
Who on earth taught this Ditto how to use a Rotom Phone?!
And what was with that cocky username and that… suggestive verification message?
"'Ditto-sama is coming in'"—coming in how, exactly?
A laugh bubbled up in her chest. Without thinking, she jabbed the Accept button.
Fine, let's see it.
You tiny little Ditto—how exactly are you going to "come in"?
A crisp chime confirmed the friend request.
Iono's lips curled. She flew into the chat and typed a line dripping with provocation, then sent it:
Iono: Come on then—do I need to open the door for you?
Message sent.
Back in the Levincia hotel, Jason felt the buzz, picked up his phone, saw Iono's line, and smiled.
Jason: ??? Wouldn't that be embarrassing! 😅
A classic wide-eyed, innocent reply.
In the gym's lounge, Iono snorted at the goofy emote.
Iono: Pfft. You can be embarrassed?
Jason: We Pokémon are very pure.
Jason waited after sending that. No reply. He frowned.
Huh? So she doesn't believe Pokémon are pure?
Just as he set the phone down, a flurry of pings exploded:
Iono: You big liar!
Iono: I actually went to open the Gym door! There wasn't a soul outside! Didn't see you anywhere!
Iono: angry huff.gif
Jason stared at the bouncing, ridiculously cute animated sticker, a question mark slowly rising over his head.
Jason: ?
Uh… ma'am, when I said "coming in," did you think I meant literally "walk in through the main door"?
Are our brainwaves not even on the same channel?
His "?" had barely gone out when hers came back in, instantly:
Iono: ?
Iono: You said you were coming in! And I even—even changed into something super sexy to greet Ditto-sama at the door!
At that, an image formed perfectly in Jason's mind— Iono sprinting to the doors, flinging them open with a face full of anticipation… and staring at an empty street, stomping her feet in frustration.
Jason: How sexy? If I turn into Fletchling right now and fly over—let me see how sexy!
Iono: Knew it! You pervy Ditto!
Iono: Anyway, I was bluffing! I didn't really go to the door; I've been comfy on the sofa the whole time.
Iono: But I am wearing a pure white off-shoulder crop top, a black pleated skirt, and black over-the-knee socks… that part's true~
Jason—whose Ditto body should be as calm as still water—actually twitched.
Jason: !
Jason: Hold on—let me ask sis Cynthia if Garchomp can give me a lift over.
Good grief— Iono really brought the heat.
Jason had to admit—he was just a bit curious what she looked like without that oversized jacket.
Iono: Too late! Iono-sama worked all morning—time for a nap.
Iono: If there's anything, see you the day after tomorrow!
With that clean cutoff, Jason could only abandon the "borrow-Garchomp" idea. But the moment that thought flashed—
Garchomp, midway through an elegant lunch, stopped chewing. Her keen eyes swept the room in suspicion.
…Weird.
Why did she suddenly feel like someone, somewhere, was plotting to make her do heavy lifting?
Levincia Gym, lounge.
After sending her last message, Iono locked her screen and tossed the phone aside. Hugging an adorable Bellibolt pillow, she buried her face deep, pale legs kicking randomly in the air like a mermaid flopping on shore.
That chat with Jason had her wound up and buzzing.
"Wait—hold on…"
She lifted her head; the heterochromatic pink-blue eyes were dazed, late realization dawning.
"I… what was I just doing?"
"Was I just… flirted with by a Ditto? No—I was flirting with a Ditto!"
The thought hit like a shock. She sprang off the sofa, snatched up her phone, and reread the entire chat from the top.
From the suggestive friend request to the straight-faced nonsense and—oh no— describing what she was wearing to a Pokémon.
Shame rocketed from her soles to her scalp. Her cheeks heated visibly.
She'd gotten so into it, she'd forgotten the "other person" was a Pokémon—a squishy Ditto. And she'd been trading quips and talking socks with it.
The chat ended; the spell broke. Now, picturing Jason's true form—
"Ahhhhhhhh!"
She let out a meaninglessly long scream and flung herself back onto the sofa, rolling with her pillow.
"No face left to show! How am I supposed to face him now?!"
A beat of quiet—then she rolled again.
"I want to quit! I don't want to be a Gym Leader! I just want to go hang out with Jason!"
In the corner, Bellibolt lay on its charging pad. Its bulbous "eyes" bobbed with its Trainer's antics. It tilted its head, croaked a puzzled "Bloop?"
It had no idea what had gotten into her today.
—
After lunch, the sunlight was perfect. Cynthia brought Jason back to the presidential suite overlooking Levincia. A morning of hard sparring had drained Jason's focus.
Seeing his fatigue, Cynthia suggested rest. He'd thought she was tired of watching battles—but the moment they entered, she tossed her things on the sofa and collapsed spread-eagle onto the huge Simmons mattress—completely unlike her usual elegance.
Thump. The mattress dipped deep, sprang back, and wobbled a few times.
"Ughhh…"
"So suddenly I feel… useless," she mumbled into the velvet pillow. "Eat, hotel, lie down, watch a Ditto train… Am I too idle to be a Champion?"
Jason blinked. He hopped onto the nightstand and peered at the Sinnoh Champion radiating couch-potato energy.
What… happened?
A voice answered him: "Battle withdrawal."
Garchomp had slipped from her Poké Ball and leaned against the wall, watching her Trainer with resigned eyes. "Every time she knows she'll soon face a really strong, unfamiliar Pokémon, she gets like this. Battle pre-syndrome. I'm used to it."
Jason snorted at the accurate roast and looked again—yes, just like Garchomp said. Not fatigue—pent-up desire to fight, forced to simmer.
He really wanted to tell her he had a perfect cure for "battle withdrawal." It required, well, some very close cooperation between the two of them. As for whether she'd develop a different "addiction" afterward… he could not guarantee.
He kept it to himself. Garchomp's warning stare said don't. He didn't doubt a steel-slicing claw would descend if he spoke.
Note to self: win over Garchomp before making any moves on Cynthia.
He shot the dragon a wary glance, then vaulted onto the bed, settling into a comfy spot on Cynthia's stomach for a nap. He didn't even need to turn into Gible anymore; even as Ditto, Cynthia habitually hugged him to sleep.
Her steady breathing led him into dreams—where he uppercut the self-styled "super new kid" Ash and his Pikachu into the stratosphere, then volleyed Arceus like a soccer ball. Standing atop the universe, ready to declare his supremacy—
Knock knock knock!
A crisp, rhythmic knock shattered the dream. Jason snapped awake. Cynthia stirred too, hazy gray eyes still fogged with sleep. Reflexively, she hugged Jason tighter like a pillow, then sat up and shuffled to the door.
"Who… is it… in broad daylight…"
She rubbed her eyes, grumbling, and cracked the door. The thick-carpeted hallway was empty.
"Huh? No one?"
Left, right—no one. A prank? She was about to close it when a milky voice piped up at her feet.
"Big sis, down here!"
Cynthia froze. She lowered her gaze—there, a little girl in a brimmed hat, maybe six years old, looking up with big, innocent eyes. Her height had placed her perfectly out of Cynthia's line of sight.
There really is a kid…
Cynthia's groggy brain stalled. She shifted Jason onto her head to free her hands and crouched to eye level. "Little one," her voice softened, "are you lost? Can't find your parents?"
A child this small, alone in a fancy hotel, knocking on doors—most likely separated from family.
The girl shook her head with a bright smile; her hat wobbled. "Nope!"
Before Cynthia could ask, Jason said, "Sis, no need to guess. I think this is the Trainer with Tinkaton that Chairwoman Geeta sent."
Cynthia's face froze; her squat stiffened. She studied the adorable child again—pure cuteness, bright curiosity.
Who… her?
The Tinkaton-wielding Trainer?
A rich kid with inherited Pokémon?
"Oh, and by the way," Jason added, "she's Paldea's Steel-type Elite Four—Poppy."
"…Who's talking?" The little girl blinked innocently. There were only two in the hall—how was there a third voice? And why did it sound right by her ear?
Her eyes searched—behind Cynthia, empty. Along the hall, also empty. Finally she looked up—at the Ditto sprawled on the gold hair.
"Is the Ditto… talking?"
Her parents forbade streams, so she hadn't heard of Jason. Poppy pointed a chubby finger, astonishment on her face. The Ditto poked up half his body and wiggled. "That's me."
"Wow!" Poppy squealed. "A talking Ditto! So cool! First time I've seen one!"
No fear—just pure delight. She rose on tiptoe and tentatively poked his jelly. Cool, springy. "So soft!"
Jason almost popped off a martial "Heaven-Sealing Finger" and cursed her out—but remembered she was six. Kids will be kids. He swayed obligingly. "Likewise. First time I've seen a six-year-old Elite Four."
Most Trainers start at ten. She's Elite Four at six.
Terrifying.
The word rebooted Cynthia's sleepy brain. "Elite Four?" She repeated, looking properly stunned now.
Poppy giggled, puffed her tiny chest proudly. "Yup, big sis! I'm Poppy—Paldea League's Steel-type Elite!"
Confirmed by the source, Cynthia's jaw dropped a hair before she breathed, heartfelt: "Amazing… So young, and already Elite Four."
As Sinnoh's Champion, she knew what "Elite Four" meant—four who stood just under Champion, monsters all. And this… child.
Poppy basked warmly under the praise. " 'Course! I'm super strong!"
Then she remembered her mission; her little face turned serious. "Geeta sent me. She said to find someone named 'Jason.' Said my Tinkaton needs to be his sparring partner for two days."
She craned to peer past Cynthia into the room. "Which one is Jason? He must be really strong, or Geeta wouldn't send me."
Jason groaned silently. He wiggled to get her attention. "No need to look. I'm Jason. I'd like to borrow your Tinkaton for two days of special training to boost my battle strength."
Poppy froze mid-crane. Her big eyes refocused on the Ditto—then tilted her head adorably, confusion writ large.
You?
A Ditto?
Borrow my Tinkaton for sparring?
What?
Her little brain choked—but being a good, obedient kid, she didn't press. If Geeta sent her, that was enough.
And she did want to see what a talking Ditto could do.