Ain't Easy Being Cheesy

A low sizzle punctuated the delectable, hearty scent of grilled cheese in the air. With a deft flick of the wrist, Van flipped the sandwich in the pan with an easy smile, not even looking as he kept his attention on his surprise student for the day.

Arms folded and eyes laser-focused on the picture of perfection being made before her eyes, Damia loomed over Van as if he was performing some kind of dark magic. In contrast to her intense energy, the Scrafty shifted the skillet on the stove slightly with loose shoulders, entirely within his element in the empty Guild kitchens at this time of night.

At least, he thought they were empty. Neither reptile was aware that their every move was being carefully monitored and assessed by two pairs of watchful eyes.

"He's killing it right now, oh my God that smells so good." Lumi's grin almost split his face, all his restraint going into keeping his voice at a low whisper. The kitchen was wide enough that they were a comfortable distance from the other two, hidden within a large kitchen cabinet close to the ground. "You see his posture too? I've never seen him this confident next to her before, this is uncharted ground."

He almost sunk into Clara's soft fur as she crouched next to him and also peeked through the sliver between the barely open doors. The Spinda's body racked with light giggles in response to Lumi, however the way her eyes had almost stopped swirling entirely belied her sheer focus in this particular operation.

"Shoulders are rigid. Eyes are narrowed. Her wings are twitching occasionally. C'mon, lighten up sis, no need to be so tense," she whined, tapping her jittering knee.

"We saw this coming. Compared to Van, this is almost entirely out of her comfort zone. Normally she's the one telling other people what to do, plus I don't think I've ever seen her operate anything more complicated than a fork from the kitchen and...jeez, is she angry or something? What's with that frown?" observed Lumi.

Clara clicked her tongue. Sure enough, a deepset frown was inlaid in Damia's countenance as she folded her arms. She looked so tense she could snap at any second. A low grunt escaped her at this behavior, disappointed.

"Hey, let's stay positive, we've set up everything for this operation the best we can," consoled Lumi with a pat on her shoulder. "Maybe she's just upset about something work-related, not this."

"I doubt it." Clara shook her head. "I checked and rechecked her schedule for today. She has no meetings, isn't currently working on any notice board requests, and I made sure to handle any little tasks that popped up in Dynamo for today. She's completely free. How about our boy? What was his mentality going into this?"

Lumi blew some air out of his mouth and shrugged. "I'll be honest, he's putting up a good front now, but I had to pull some shenanigans to even get him to Damia's office this morning just to ask. It was hard work just getting him to try and have lunch with her every now and then, but actually doing an activity like this?" He gave a chuckle mixed with a whine. "Clara, do you know how many grilled cheese sandwiches I had to eat leading up to this? Just to build his confidence? Not to mention all the money we spent on extra ingredients just so that he wouldn't run out."

A faux gasp left the Spinda. "Complaining about eating Van's food!? Shame on you, Lumi."

"Don't get me wrong. I don't know how he did it, but he managed to make each one better than the last. I'm more so concerned about my waistline than-"

His ears flicked as he started to hear his Partner talking. With a paw on Clara's shoulder, he leaned forward.

"Hold. He's engaging in peace talks. This could be big," he said. Clara snatched up their notebook, pen at the ready.

The golden, crispy squares performed a masterful flip before coming back down to earth to rest in the pan.

"So uh…just like that, see how it's a good golden-brown? That's pretty much where we want it. And you don't have to do any flips with the pan or anything, could just use a spatula or somethin'. I just do it because it's just kinda fun, some flavor for cooking, y'know?" said Van, who looked up at Damia as he removed his aether-infused pan to the side.

Damia almost didn't hear him, too focused on his effortless technique and the delectable scent that wafted from the pan. Every inch of her discipline was tested as she resisted the urge to lick her lips. She would let nobody see her lose composure, least of all Van, of all Pokémon.

But Arceus almighty, if he didn't somehow make even a simple grilled cheese sandwich seem like a gift from above.

"Get a hold of yourself, warrior," she thought to herself, eyes unable to look away from the plate between them. "It's just a grilled cheese sandwich. Nothing special, just a basic, run of the mill sandwich. So how did he...?"

"Hey, Damia? You alright?" Van's voice cut through her thoughts.

"…Mmm?" she grunted, her face a mask of indifference.

"I just wanted to ask if you were good to try and make one now, since you saw me do it?" he asked, and slid his sandwich onto a plate on a countertop behind him, with the other ingredients laid out.

The second he asked, all thoughts of stuffing her face full of cheesy goodness evaporated as Damia's mind worked overtime to try and recall every single step he too-

"Calm down. It's just a sandwich. It's just a sandwich. It won't be a problem."

"Fine," she said, and turned around to stake stock of what she had to work with; moderately thick slices of sourdough bread, salted butter, mozzarella, and cheddar cheese from moomoo milk. As expected, the amount of ingredients wasn't particularly expensive, which only furthered her resolution that there should be absolutely no issues in replicating the recipe to match Van.

It was just a grilled cheese sandwich.

Claws in his pockets, Van's mouth was pressed into a line as he tried his best to look casual, although Damia could sense the air of nervousness he gave off. Whatever confidence he had when actually cooking seemed to fade as she took the stage. Running through the list of steps she had tried to commit to memory, she took a block of cheese and started to grate it into a small bowl. Both cheese and the grater were somewhat small in her large claws which made the process take a bit longer than she would have liked.

Eventually, she had two bowls of both cheeses. No word from Van. So far so good. She dipped a claw in the bowl and started to sprinkle some cheese on a bread slice. A firm layer, not too thick or else it-

"Ah, hey maybe try spreading some butter on that first, you can-"

"It's fine, I got it." Snappier than she intended. Van took a step back with his claws up, and she internally sighed at the knee jerk response. A second later she did specifically remember Van buttering the bread first and melting the cheese on the warmed pan but...whatever, just double down, it was just a sandwich. It's not like she could mess up a sandwich.

After awkwardly spreading the butter on the cheese-laden bread, she transferred the bread to the pan. Still hot from Van's cooking, she reheated the stove and watched the pan like a stone hawk as it melted. She didn't spare any body movement or a word as she kept her focus squarely on the bread, committed to making the most perfect grilled cheese sandwich as possible, which of course meant not letting the golden opportunity pass her by.

"...Golden-brown. Wait for golden-brown...is that the right shade of brown? Maybe wait a little longer, just to be certain...Van isn't saying anything, why-no he shouldn't have to say anything, he already explained once, don't make him explain again."

Taking a brief break from her internal monologue, she snuck a glance at the Scrafty. His eyes ping-ponged between the sandwich on the pan and herself, and his teeth would clench and unclench like he really really wanted to say something. The bead of sweat that rolled down his scales denoted him being nervous about something, though she couldn't really see why; the grilled cheese had started to form flecks of black in some places, which if she recalled was a sign of flavor...

"No wait, black wasn't for flavor, it was...shit I missed it."

"I'm going to flip now." She framed the question as a statement and silently prayed his response would give her a clue on the right course of action. Thankfully, he nodded, so quickly his red mohawk almost blurred.

"Yeah, yep. That sounds like a good idea," he muttered, claws somehow attempting to dig further into his pockets. With a snort of her nostrils, Damia shoved her spatula underneath both slices and narrowed her eyes in focus. The thin metal between her claws felt particularly fragile, but she still tensed her muscles.

She flipped. The slices flew up. And up. And up.

Her and Van craned their necks further backwards as the two pieces of bread shot up like a bullet towards the canopy ceiling, only for them to abruptly stop as they impacted and stuck to the ceiling. Silence reigned between them that seemed like it would stretch on forever until, with a slow squelch, the pieces peeled off to fall back down.

One of them landed mercifully only on the floor, but the second splatted directly onto Damia's snout. Although her scales lessened the heat from the scalding cheese, they couldn't alleviate the burn of shame as it slowly slid down her face. A tight ball of frustration churned in her throat that rendered her silent and still, mind whirring with all the thoughts of how she managed to screw this up.

"...I mean, you know what they say when you drop food on the floor? It's just...uh...extra seasoning, right? Heh...ah..." Van's laugh died as soon as it started, eyes fixed on the floor-cheesed sandwich while Damia remained as animated as a statue.

"Clara."

"I know."

"Clara, what the actual f-"

"I know." The Spinda pulled both her ears down with a grimace on her face, but Lumi wasn't having it. He wrenched her by the shoulders so she faced him and pointed at the closed cabinet door.

"Look how she's massacred my boy Clara!" he hissed, eyes wide. "Her shoulder was so cold I'm freezing from way over here! What, did she wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" He narrowed his eyes. "You didn't let her cuddle you last night, is that what this is about? You've been shirking your duties?"

"Alright, slow down mister, let's not get crazy." A grunt that lacked her usual bubbliness left her mouth, and she rubbed her face with both paws with a low whine. "Dangit, I thought we were making progress with the whole self-esteem thing...look, I concede that her small talk, attitude, vibe and...everything was lacking in this, but let's not act like yours was squeaky clean and perfect. The second he wasn't cooking, all of Van's confidence flew out the window." She poked a furry digit into Lumi's chest and leaned forward, eye spirals somehow managing to spin in an accusatory way. "Aren't you supposed to be his hypemon? You said you've been gassing him up this whole time, where was the gas!? He just stopped dead the second she said something!"

"And what is he supposed to say when somebody gets snippy over a freaking sandwich!? None of my training could have prepared him for that, he probably thought he was talking to a crazy person at that moment."

"He knew he was talking to a crazy person, that's why he's into her!"

"Well she's not giving him a whole lot to work with, Van is carrying this entire interaction. A relationship is supposed to be a two-way street, dating, friendship, whatever, but right now she's not even on the road."

"I know it looks bad but she's putting more into this than it looks like. It's not like she'll go out of her way to do something like this for just anyone. You know how Damia is, she's only comfortable doing things she knows she's good at, something like this is big for her. She's likely beating herself up for this whole thing, it's just coming out wrong."

"Yeah, try telling that to the shaking Scrafty out there. Probably thinks she's gonna eat him."

"Now listen you-"

"Both of you get your act together, now," came a sharp, menacing voice behind them.

The fur on the back of Lumi and Clara's neck's raised on instinct, and they straightened up as a chill ran up their spine. They locked eyes, and as one turned to look at who had managed to invade their impromptu hideout.

Audino Bell loomed behind them, her eyes gleaming in the low light. Lumi blinked, struck dumb by confusion.

"Bell? But how did you-"

Bell lurched forward and snagged both of them by the backs of their necks, then brought them in close. Closer than either of them would have wanted, as her heavy breathing pelted their backs.

"You two listen, and you listen closely. I have money on those two lizards getting together, and I'm not the only one. Powers you can't even fathom have a vested interest in this relationship, and it is your responsibility to make sure it works out. Do you understand me?"

Clara gulped at the severity of her words. "Bell, we're trying! We're making progress, it's just..."

"A process. That's all," Lumi finished for her, but Bell narrowed her eyes, unconvinced.

"From what I see, the process needs work. You two better start working miracles, or else you won't like what happens."

"Wh-what'll happen?" squeaked Clara.

Rather than respond, the Audino fixed both of them with a heavy glare, and held up a seed to her mouth. Maintaining eye contact, she bit into it, and promptly disappeared from view. Lumi and Clara looked at the space she left with expressions of bemusement and trepidation respectively.

Clara put a paw to her chin. "Wait a minute...that was just a Vanish Seed that she ate." She reached a paw forward a few inches and it pressed into a soft and squishy surface. "Oh, she's still here, see?"

Lumi also poked forward, and he chuckled as he felt Bell's invisible fur press inward. His laughter cut off as a swift swat to his paw made him pull back with a wince, Clara facing the same retribution a second later.

"Owww..." she whined.

"Damn, okay. I guess we need to salvage this, or else we'll get beat up or something. Let me check the situation again." Lumi shuffled over and cracked the cabinet door open just a tad, expecting to still see their quarry standing around a bunch of unused ingredients. To his surprise, the kitchen was empty, all traces of the cooking cleaned with nary a spot. He poked his head just a bit further out and listened. Familiar voices came from the Mess Hall beyond the kitchen door flap.

"What's it looking like?" asked Clara. Lumi turned to her with a grin.

"We might have another shot to secure victory, general. Permission to execute the Sightlines Protocol?"

A giddy gasp escaped Clara, and she clapped her paws in excitement. "Ooh, we finally get to use that one? Permission granted!" She turned to their shared bag of supplies and began to rifle through it for the requisite supplies.

They'd turn this around. Apparently, they didn't have a choice.

"Wooooow, I ain't never fucked something up this bad. Is she planning to flip the table or flip me? The way she's staring down, I don't know if she's about to fall asleep or is thinking about ways to make me go to sleep permanently. Damn girl, if you're gonna strangle me, at least look me in the eyes when you do, then I can at least walk away from this a happier mon than when I walked in..."

Van's internal monologue flowed in this manner as he looked across the table at the brooding Dragonite who had not said a word since they left the kitchen, eyes fixated on the grilled cheese sandwich he had made earlier. The long hall was empty at this time of night, since they had planned to do their little cooking activity after the regular testing for the day had concluded. The benefit of this was that they had some privacy in a normally crowded area.

The downside was that the awkward silence only screamed louder in the high ceilings of the large, empty hall. Though they both sat towards one end of the table, Damia had elected to still sit across from him, which left just enough space in between them for conversation to be that much more of a hassle.

All in all, this was still going better than he had anticipated. Mostly because Damia hadn't just walked off once she got splattered with her own sandwich. Looking back on it made him sigh and increase his shaking leg under the table. Speaking of, he glanced down at his own plate which held that same sandwich, cleaned as best as he could. If he could describe it, he would say that it looked...mostly edible? Sure, the bread was charred black, the cheese was patchy and too hard in some places, and half the sandwich was a crumpled mess, but at least she had tried? Gave him the stink eye the entire time making it, but there was an attempt, he could say that.

After poking at it for a bit, he shrugged and picked it up. He'd eaten worse things, like anytime he tried to get his sister Lou to help in the kitchen.

"I swear that girl could set fire to water..." he thought as he brought a piece to his mouth.

"You don't have to eat that." Her voice surprised him enough that he jolted.

"Uh...huh?" he asked, dumbly. Damia's eyes flicked up at him.

"That was on my face. You don't have to eat it."

"I'd eat damn near anything off your face. Hold up, let me say something regular so she don't think I'm a freak for real."

"Just means it's got extra seasoning."

He flinched.

"Van, I'm gonna beat your ass. Not only was that weird, you already used that joke!"

"I-I mean, uh...it's really not that big a deal."

"It's a crappy sandwich, I did everything wrong when making it, there's no reason for you to eat it," she said, and attempted to set fire to the sandwich she tried to make with her gaze alone.

"C'mon, don't be so hard on yourself. It's just a sandwich, right?"

His words only seemed to make her glower more, and he managed to withhold a sigh, although still slumped a bit in his seat.

"Can I just say one thing right? Please? Just one thing that doesn't keep making things worse" he bemoaned internally.

Before his thoughts could spiral further, he saw a flicker of motion up ahead that caught his eye, at first he thought it was a flick of the light, until a flash of blue appeared on top of one of the cabinets pressed against the far side of the wall.

Half a second later, Lumi appeared sitting on top of it, a piece of paper and a pen in his paws. Van blinked, thoroughly confused, until the Meowstic waved at him and turned the paper around so he could see:

'KEP TRYIN! 'S OK!'

"What the heck? What's he doing up there? What's he mean by that?" Van's eyes narrowed in confusion, silently conveying his bafflement and exasperation up at Lumi. In response, the Meowstic gave a cheeky grin and quickly wrote something else on another sheet of paper, apparently having come stocked with a nice stack just for this purpose.

'KEP TALKIN TOHER!'

He bit his lip, curling his claws along the surface of the table as he absorbed the situation. Apparently Lumi wanted to give him some sneaky advice during this (with very questionable spelling.), but would he really take it? This not-really-a-date was already going so poorly, he could just cut his losses and sit here in silence. At least then, he already kind of knew the outcome.

On the other claw, he couldn't think of too many things that could make this go worse, so he might as well just say screw it. Lumi seemed confident enough, at least.

Did things normally go well when Lumi was confident? Almost never, but they definitely turned out interesting.

He took a couple seconds to clear his throat and gather his courage. "Damia," he said, loud enough to get her attention. When her eyes flicked up at him, he exhaled. "You really don't need to be that upset with the sandwich. I just thought it'd be fun to try out."

Damia's amethyst eyes darkened a tad. She glanced to the side. "You laid out all the instructions easily, and mine still ended up like that. No reason it should have been that difficult."

"Uh, yeah? How many grilled cheese sandwiches have you even made? Do you even cook like that?" he asked, and scratched the back of his head. "Not that I'm, y'know, presumin' or anything, just curious."

"No I...haven't trained that," she said. Van nodded slowly, as the conversation petered off, and tried to think of how to reignite it. As he observed Damia, he noted how her attention seemed to shift somewhere above him, and her eyes furrowed for a split second, so fast that he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. Her face returned to a cool neutral, and she sat up a bit straighter.

"What about you?" she asked, voice slightly more stilted than usual.

"What do you mean?"

"Have you done that?"

"Done what? Train cooking?"

He saw her grumble a bit. "Yes. That. Or, how long have you done it?"

"I mean I haven't thought about it like training, but I guess you could say I've been doing it for my whole life, more after my dad passed away."

"Mmm..." Damia nodded. A second later, her eyes narrowed again and her face scrunched in confusion at that same spot above him. Van blinked and turned around to look behind him, but didn't see anything suspicious; Just another cabinet along the wall. He turned back and noted how Lumi above seemed to be holding in laughter while Damia clenched and unclenched her claws.

"Can you tell me more?" she asked, to his surprise.

"Oh, sure. Well at first it was because I wanted to find ways to step up and help around the house, but after a while of seeing how happy food could make people, it just turned into a hobby of mine," he said, and then squinted his eyes in thought. "Now that I think about it, I think grilled cheese was one of the first things I learned how to make on my own. Mine didn't turn out that well the first time either, but that was just the rest of the family's problem to deal with if I'm honest."

In contrast to before, Damia's full attention was on him, yet with a focused, grim determination of someone listening to the answers right before taking a test. He couldn't help but find her serious expression to what was effectively just him rambling a little cute.

"Speaking of, whatchu think?" he asked, pointing to the sandwich on her plate. "Wanna hear your verdict."

Damia turned her snout down at her plate. Her nostrils flared as she took a quick sniff and reached down to pick up the sandwich.

Van blinked. Then blinked again. The plate was empty, not even any crumbs marred the surface. Damia just finished swallowing with an unfocused, satisfied look on her face that evaporated once she made eye contact with him. She licked any lingering flecks off her mouth and he wasn't sure if he was seeing things, but the barest hint of a blush bloomed on her cheeks.

"...It's fine." She composed herself in record time.

"Way you vacuumed it up didn't just look 'fine' to me." He couldn't resist the teasing tone, her enjoyment of his food causing his pride to briefly flare up. She snorted and narrowed her eyes at him,

"It was alright. Acceptable," she said. His eyes flicked up to Lumi for some moral support, to which the Meowstic motioned for him to keep going with a big grin.

"…Dang, that it? In that case, maybe I'll hold off on cooking for you for a while," he said, smile wobbly. "Ain't no reason to give you anything less than the best, right?"

"I'll still eat it." Even she seemed surprised by how quickly she responded, and immediately doubled back. "Even if it's not the best, it's…the sandwich is good, alright? Is that what you want to hear?"

"...I kinda want to hear you say that you loved it."

"You're not getting that out of me." She crossed her arms. "Until I know for a fact that you're not going to poison me again, I can't be all in on your cuisine."

The wind flew right out of his sails and he slumped. "Oh…you're still mad about that?"

"If I was mad I wouldn't have eaten anything you made. But I remember. I always remember."

"Damn dude…well do you have any other allergies I should know about? Besides chestnuts."

"I am not allergic to chestnuts." The level of authority and confidence in those words took him a second to process.

"You…are though? That was like the whole thing with the stir fry, you had a really bad reaction because I cooked it with chestnuts, and it was later confirmed that you were allergic, mon." Even Lumi looked down at Damia as if she'd grown a second head, and yet she persisted.

"'Allergic' is not the word I would use. It's more like chestnuts and me…it's a bad matchup, certainly. Chestnuts have won more battles against me than not, but they haven't defeated me yet. It would be more appropriate to say that I am in an ongoing conflict with chestnuts."

"Otherwise known as being allergic."

"Van I think I explained it pretty clearly."

The fact that he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she was being serious caused a light laugh to slip through before he clamped down on it, pretending to clear his throat again.

"Why don't you want to say you're allergic to chestnuts?"

"Because 'allergic' implies that I'm somehow weak to a nut, which is stupid and doesn't apply to me."

"I could never think of you as weak in anything," admitted Van. This seemed to make her satisfied, although for some insane reason he wanted to see how far he could poke her. "Although if I'm being real, Clara was telling me some of the fallout from that night. Respectfully, it sounds like those chestnuts were kinda fuckin' you up."

He saw her pause, look up at the wall behind him, and cut a slow line across her neck. He wasn't quite sure what that was about, but the whole situation broke him just a bit and the air was soon filled with his deep chuckles.

"Is something funny, Van?" Dania's tone held a very clear threat, but for the life of him he just couldn't respect it.

"Heh…yeah, kinda."

"Care to share?"

"You're bein' funny right now, so I'm laughing."

"You want me to come over there and give you something else to laugh about?" Her icy tone and the way she leaned forward sent a jolt of apprehension through him; it's not like she had to try very hard to be intimidating.

He looked up at his guardian angel for today to see if he had any advice. The Meowstic didn't skip a beat.

'SHE'S BLUFIN! TRUST ME!'

"How is he so sure?" he thought, but nevertheless gulped down his nerves and decided to lean forward as well.

"You're really gonna come over and beat me up over some nuts?"

"Are you testing me?"

"What if I am?"

Moment of truth. He felt like prey caught in a predator's stare with the way Damia seemed to bring almost her full weight against the table. He hoped she couldn't see the beads of sweat that had started to form, although he found it unlikely. Still, he stood firm in the face of her malevolent onslaught, locked in a battle of wills to see who would break first.

After a few tense moments, it was Damia who snorted and glanced to the side, sitting back down on her seat. "Damn it, Van. I'm not allergic."

He resisted the urge to exhale in relief. Jeez, this girl could be intense. Really made his heart race.

He kinda liked it.

"Ignoring all that though...I will say that your cooking is impressive. For a hobby." Her thoughtful gaze landed on the table, not quite meeting his eyes as she spoke.

Her words left him stunned for a moment. "I'll uh...I'll take that." And he would. Compliments were a precious commodity in Damia's economy, and he was a poor Scrafty indeed. As he ruminated on this victory, he saw that Lumi was scrawling something else on a sheet, and turned it around for him to see:

"ASK HER ABOT HER HOBBEIS!"

"Either he's too excited, or bro can't spell. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. Still, kind of a risky play but it's worked out so far."

"Clara, you're doing pushups until your arms fall off, I read it the first time." Damia did her level best to melt the nosey Spinda that had intruded on her meal with her gaze alone, but as usual she only received a smirk in response. As had become a pattern over the course of this, Clara then held up one of the messages she had written; a message she had used with annoying frequency:

'LIGHTEN UP, GRUMPY :)'

A twinge of irritation shot through her at the message (how much more was she supposed to lighten up?) that she clamped down on with a great feat of willpower. Rather, she refocused her mental energy to the question Van asked her, along with how this strange interaction with him had gone so far.

"He's acting different. He's not being an annoying nervous wreck like usual. Since when does he think he can start pushing? Did I do or say something stupid? Am I…wait, not now, focus."

His laughter at her before confused and slightly caught her off guard. She thought she could shut it down quickly, but to her surprise the Scrafty had decided to grow a spine and actually challenge her, something she wasn't seriously prepared for. Because of that, now she couldn't just write off his behavior, she had to actually think about why he thought she was funny and process it, something she wasn't sure she knew how to do.

But before she could even do that, he hit her with another question, this time about her hobbies, something else she didn't really know the answer to. In any other scenario, she could promptly discourage anyone from scrutinizing her too deeply, but in this case, her usual methods weren't working, and she was forced to sit here and actually examine herself.

"Why does he think he can just ask me questions? Why does he need to know? Maybe I should just stay silent, see if he backs down…no that didn't really work, damn it. Van what do you even want from me? I…do I do hobbies? What am I supposed to say here? I don't…"

"Damia? You good?" That's the second time she blanked out and made him ask that today. She schooled her features, but couldn't prevent her claws from feeling clammy, and clenching at nothing. Her breathing didn't feel as steady as she tried to grasp for an answer that she knew wasn't there, making him wait. Would he think less of her? What was the right answer? She hadn't prepared for this-

Clara. Maybe she'd actually be helpful for once. With a low grunt at Van to acknowledge his question, she glanced up at her Partner, silently pleading for assistance. Thankfully, the Spinda was just finished with writing something down and turned the paper over with a patient smile:

'START WITH WHAT YOU LIKE. UWU'

"A little basic, isn't it? Fuck it, it'll have to do. Thank you, Care Bear."

"I like to…complete reports and research new ways to get more power out of what I make," she said, fairly confident. Van gave a polite nod, but he wore a perplexed frown.

"Cool, but I already know that. I moreso meant like, beyond guild stuff. More personally?"

"Personal?" She flicked her eyes up to Clara again, but to her annoyance she merely pointed up the 'OPEN UP!' sign again, which had also seen a lot of use tonight.

Van continued, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, like uh…I dunno…" he glanced up at something behind her. He'd been doing that a lot, was there something wrong? She shifted a bit and looked over her shoulder, but didn't see anything in particular.

"Ah, uh, sports!" She heard him blurt out. She turned back, and his eyes were a bit wider than before. "You into sports at all? Like, martial arts tournaments, arena fights, anything like that?"

She considered it. As long as there had been Pokémon, there were tournaments of various kinds and flavors at different stages. Often, Teams formed either within or outside a Guild would dabble in a local circuit, and could even compete to get seeded in larger scale arenas at more major cities across the continents. There had been many times she'd overheard other apprentices discussing their favorites to win.

She hadn't participated in those conversations, of course. She'd been rather focused on work these past few years.

"I'm a bit interested, but haven't kept up with it," she replied. "I wouldn't know what Teams people are talking about, or which Tournaments are interesting right now. Do you follow tournaments at all?"

"Eh, I mostly just hear from my siblings that do. They've mentioned a few Teams they're following that are pretty popular, I guess, like Team Fastpoke, Team Tussle, or Team Cream." He shrugged. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to be into Struggling, would you?"

Damia frowned. "Struggling? I'm…familiar."

Beyond more martial tournaments that tested pure skill and power, there were also 'Struggling' circuits that were primarily for sports entertainment. Pokémon who prioritized using their moves and talents to tell compelling narratives through the medium of physical combat, and making a crowd go absolutely crazy in the meantime. These were less well-known, but still widely enjoyed by those that knew about them.

Which as it turned out, Damia did.

"Do you still think about Struggling, Damon? I'm sure you forgot all about the tag-team run we dreamt up. God, that was years ago."

She didn't remember whose birthday it was, but as a special outing, their mother had taken them to a somewhat high-profile Struggling match to celebrate. The Strugglers and story eluded her, all she remembered was bright lights, electric energy, and Pokémon in funny, colorful costumes she'd never seen before. She and Damon promptly fell in love with it and went through a phase where they would devise and practice moves on each other, vowing to be the next tag-team Struggler/Hunter Champion duo.

Their father didn't entertain much of their antics, and once mother died, promptly squashed and discouraged them from wasting time with 'pretend' fighting, instead pushing them to focus on their Hunter training.

They never brought it up again.

"You know about Struggling? Seriously?" Van asked, incredulous. Damia repressed a sigh.

"Not that much. I've only seen one match and haven't kept up with it in years." Her eyes hardened a bit. "Why? Is there a problem with that?"

"No, I just didn't take you for the type, I guess. I figured if anything you'd be kind of against it because it's not 'real' fighting."

"I do value a good straight-up fight, but Struggling deserves proper respect too," Damia started, and folded her arms as she sat up straighter.

"The fight outcomes might be predetermined, but saying that the matches aren't real or fake would be stupid. Strugglers put their bodies on the line to deliver a great show, and besides that, it takes genuine talent to train those moves and maneuvers to utilize on the fly. Why, do you think it's fake?"

His head almost fell off with how hard he shook it. "Nah, I actually agree with you a hundred percent! It's just, y'know, hard for me to imagine you getting excited over it."

"I might have…entertained the idea of being a struggler when I was younger," she ground out despite herself, trying to make herself do as Clara asked.

Van's eyes almost bugged out of his skull. "Yo, for real? That's badass!"

"Shhh! Not so loud!" She glanced over at the entrance, then pointed at him with narrowed eyes. "Don't say a damn word about it to anyone, before Purl or someone hears and tries to design a costume."

"Secrets safe with me, mon. But c'mon, you gotta tell me more."

"Look, it was a kid thing, alright? I haven't even seen a struggling match in decades, I'm barely even a fan," she asserted. "What about you? From how you're talking about it, it sounds like you're a fan."

"Ah, not really. I know a little about it, but I don't know if I can say if I'm a real fan, y'know? I haven't even seen a match."

"Tickets can be a little hard to come by, from what I understand, since it's still more underground in terms of popularity. The fanbase is proud of that fact too, so it can be exclusive. You would have to find someone who knows someone to secure some tickets."

"Is that right...?" Van rubbed his chin in thought, before a devious grin split his face that she didn't often see on him. "Say Damia, if I happened to get some struggle tickets, would you be down to uh...watch it with me? Or, us! Lumi and Clara would love it, it would be a good time."

"You think you could get your claws on some tickets?" she asked, dubious. Van nodded confidently, and she studied him for a bit before shrugging. "Fine, if you manage to get some, then I'll go with you all. Not sure how you think you're gonna do it, though."

"I have my ways. I got more going on than you might think," he said smoothly, and for the first time Damia found herself not doubting his confidence in the slightest.

It was strange, seeing Van puff his chest up and say something so easily in that deep voice of his. Something about it put her at ease, like he could say anything and she could trust it.

"...Different. Very different..." she tilted her head at him with a thoughtful hum.

"But, for real though," excitement twinkled in his eyes again. "So, did you have like, a Struggling character? What was your gimmick?"

"Van, I told you, shut up," she said, no real bite in her words. He chuckled again and leaned forward, both claws on the table.

"Mon, you have my word this stays between us, just give me something, I gotta know."

She huffed out a laugh. "If I tell you, will you stop begging? It's pathetic."

Lumi and Clara looked down at the scene below like proud parents (or notoriously nosy cousins). Their Partners continued to converse with growing enthusiasm about struggling, something neither of them knew they had an interest in.

Seeing that the operation had become a resounding success, they both determined that their work for the night was done. With one more glance across the hall at each other, they both wrote one more message, this time to each other. Lumi wore a wide grin as his paw raced to scratch a message on his paper, while Clara giggled softly to herself as she wrote out her message.

They flipped them over:

'NALIED IT!'

'LEARN HOW TO SPELL XD!'