Venus knew she was being overprotective.

Her tail had twitched at least seven times in the past minute. She kept counting—each twitch an unspoken warning to any wandering trainers, Pokémon, or ill-advised balloons that dared drift too close to her human.

She wasn't alone in this.

Mars was stationed like a stone statue beside Gary, his tail flame steady but bright, eyes narrowed. He was still—too still—but that was how Mars did worry. His version of protectiveness was being a one-lizard wall of fire and muscle.

Venus didn't need to puff her chest like that. She just stayed close. Her frill occasionally brushed against Ashley's leg as she shifted. Her body was alert, her ears angled constantly toward the faintest sound behind or around them, even while she kept her gaze forward. The Contest Hall was filled with noise—applause, gasps, sudden bursts of elemental light from the stage. Too much chaos, too much clutter.

But she stayed still. Because Ashley hadn't moved. Ashley was fine.

…Still. Venus leaned in again.

Ashley's scent was steady—soap, fabric, a hint of sweet berries from earlier breakfast. No fear-scent. No pain-scent. Just her. Safe. Alive. Here.

Venus let out a low hum of contentment and pressed her side a little firmer against Ashley's leg.

Mercury sat curled on Ashley's lap, completely unbothered by the tension in the air. He had been the first to relax that morning, flopping onto Ashley's legs like a pile of sleepy fluff. He didn't twitch when the crowd clapped. He didn't flinch when an Electrode exploded with sparkles on stage. He just… watched. Or maybe napped. Or both. His tail flicked lazily in time with the music.

Lucky kit.

Venus gave him a soft nudge with her snout, and Mercury blinked at her lazily before offering a cheeky little chirp and a big, unnecessary yawn.

She rolled her eyes.

From the side, Mars let out a low growl—not aggressive, just loud enough to register. He didn't like Mercury's attitude either.

Gary shifted slightly in his seat, resting his casted arm carefully on his lap. Mars's tail flicked once in response, checking his posture, adjusting just slightly, eyes flicking to the trainer's shadow like it might betray something dangerous.

Venus couldn't blame him.

It had only been a couple of weeks since the sea. Since the light. Since the weight of water and pressure and the way Ashley's body had gone limp in her arms. Venus's breath hitched just remembering it. Even now, in the safety of the Contest Hall with lights and flowers and bored teenagers fidgeting in their seats, her chest tightened when she thought about the moments she couldn't protect her trainer.

Her paws dug slightly into the plush carpet. She inhaled deeply through her nose. She smelled that ridiculous shampoo from Celadon that Ashley had bought and come to adore (who combines strawberry and rose? It's too sweet!). She was fine.

She was fine.

But Venus still stayed pressed against her side.

She watched every appeal with half-lidded eyes that didn't miss a single movement. A Togetic dipped too close to the audience in one performance. Venus tensed. A Luxio used Discharge near the curtains and startled a stagehand. Venus's frill bristled. A Maractus spun too fast and nearly crashed into the judge's table. Venus's ears tilted.

Ashley's hand moved slightly, and fingers threaded gently through Venus's head frill, scratching behind one of her fins in that exact way that made her tail flick with mild annoyance she pretended not to like.

She purred anyway. Quietly. Only Ashley would hear it.

Across the bench, Mars grunted softly. Venus flicked her gaze to him. The Charmeleon was still as ever, but his eyes were slightly softer now. He met her stare. A long moment passed.

They understood each other in that moment.

They weren't guarding just because it was a crowded place. Not just because strangers were nearby. They were guarding because they had almost lost her. And even if Ashley didn't say it—they knew.

Gary muttered something to Ashley. Venus couldn't understand the words, but she caught the way Gary's hand brushed hers when he leaned in, the way Ashley tilted her head to reply with that soft-smiling sarcasm she used when she was relaxed.

Relaxed was good.

That meant Venus could relax too.

Kind of.

Not really.

Her muscles remained alert, her gaze still cutting around the crowd in quick scans. People were everywhere. Contest-goers, tourists, trainers, judges, camera crew. Some Pokémon too. Loud, moving, unpredictable. It wasn't dangerous. Not yet.

But it could be.

And Venus wasn't letting her guard down. Not again.

Because she remembered. She remembered too well.

The screaming metal of the ship splitting in two. The purple glow cutting through the sky. The helpless silence before the ocean swallowed everything.

The psychic energy—wrong, deep, crawling—like a pressure behind her eyes, like it was peeling her skin without touching her. It had come from above, from something unnatural, something wrong. It hadn't just sunk the S.S. Anne.

It had broken something in Venus, too.

Psychic-types.

First Abra—annoying, smug, teleport-happy gremlin—and now that thing. That hovering, glowing, unknown thing that had cracked the world open in a flash of violet light.

Venus's tail gave a slow, cold thump against the floor.

She didn't hate a lot of things. She loved sunbathing. Loved battling. Loved Ashley.

But she hated that feeling of helplessness. That powerlessness. That sick, rising horror as her trainer threw her into the sea because she didn't know what else to do.

It had been smart.

It had saved them both.

But Venus still had nightmares where Ashley didn't survive. Where she just stood there, smiling at her, as the ship sank, and the light faded.

Venus would never forget that. Never.

She leaned harder against Ashley's leg, enough that Ashley glanced down, fingers automatically reaching for her head and stroking behind her frill. "Yeah, I'm here," Ashley said quietly, her hand soft, voice low enough that only Venus could hear. "I'm good."

Venus gave a small chirp in response, just once. She didn't believe it fully—not yet—but she was willing to try.

The lights dimmed slightly for the next appeal, and Ashley sat forward, Mercury flopping more securely into her lap with a tired squeak. Venus stayed seated but braced slightly. The stage lit up with swirling petals—Grass-types, maybe? Venus watched with practiced care.

A Lilligant tried to pirouette through a Petal Dance, missed her rhythm, and skidded sideways into a puff of her partner's cottony Spoink-induced Mist. The crowd still clapped, but Venus just blinked, unimpressed.

She shifted her weight and let her gaze drift down—not to the floor, but to Ashley's belt. Second from the left. Chione's Poké Ball.

Even sealed away, the icy attitude was unmistakable.

Venus didn't need to hear words to know exactly what Chione was thinking. The little Vulpix was pouting hard enough to freeze the air inside her own containment unit. Her disappointment clung to the emotional field between Pokémon like frost on glass. If sulking were a move, Chione would've perfected it.

This was supposed to be her moment.

Her first contest.

She'd trained relentlessly. Spent days perfecting the timing of her Aurora Beam, adjusting the angle of her spins to catch light just right, even tolerated Mercury using her tail as a mock target for speed drills. And now? Now she was stuck in her Poké Ball, as Venus watching some Kanto Vulpix on stage trip over a sparkly Ember and still get polite applause.

Venus didn't blame her.

Honestly? That appeal was a mess.

And Chione? Chione would've nailed it. Venus had already pictured it a dozen times—Hail frosting the stage in a glimmering haze, followed by Aurora Veil wrapping the dome in color, all while Chione danced with the silent, elegant flair she'd worked so hard to refine.

She would've stunned the crowd.

Top three, easily.

Maybe even first.

Venus exhaled, nose twitching. She kept one ear on the appeal commentary, and the other trained on Ashley and Gary's teasing, but her focus stayed low—on that little Poké Ball.

Venus glanced back at the stage. Another contestant—this one with a Roserade—was performing some kind of flower-petal whirlwind combo. It was… fine. Pretty. But uncoordinated. Flowers moved too fast. The whirlwind effect lagged.

No synergy.

Venus' tail tapped twice, unimpressed.

Other than Damian—who actually used synergy, who actually trained like a battle mattered—she hadn't seen any other Coordinators that made her take notes.

These ones? They were showy. Sparkles and lights. No substance. No strength.

Venus didn't just want to look good onstage. She wanted to dominate it. Graceful and sharp. The type of Pokémon who could take a bow and then take you down.

Ashley shifted in her seat, and Venus stood again to press lightly against her side, watching as their trainer reached down and brushed her fur gently. The touch was absent-minded, affectionate, but reassuring.

Next contest?

They wouldn't just watch.

They'd win.

One ear trained toward the crowd—scanning for motion, for tone, for that weird drop in temperature that always came before bad things—and the other kept half-tilted in the direction of her humans.

Gary and Ashley were at it again.

"…If they wanted to blind the judges, they could've just set off a Flash. It'd be more coordinated than whatever that was," Gary muttered, arms crossed, unimpressed by the glitter explosion on stage.

Ashley rolled her eyes. "Gary, not everything is a Gym strategy. Sometimes people like sparkles. It's a contest, not a brawl."

"Tell that to your Vileplume. She nearly turned the last appeal you were trying out into a botanical beatdown."

"That was art and you know it," Ashley shot back, smirking as she reached up to shove his shoulder—carefully, minding the sling. "Sorry your taste's stuck in Pallet Town."

"Better than being stuck in a kimono budget."

Venus exhaled softly, amused. They were fine. Their rhythm, their banter—it was like watching a battle where nobody got hurt, just poked until one of them grinned first. It had a sound, too. Their voices pinged off each other with familiarity. Teasing, not sharp. Biting, but warm.

Onstage, the appeal ended. Half-hearted applause. Too slow. Too repetitive. Mercury, still sprawled lazily in Ashley's lap, yawned so hard his whole face folded.

"That's a no from Mercury," Gary deadpanned.

Ashley snorted, ruffling Mercury's fur. "At least he's honest." Ashley shifted forward a bit, elbow on her knee, eyes on the stage. "Next one's up," she said, voice quiet but focused.

Venus whipped her head toward Ashley the moment the squeal left her lips, her ears flicking high, muscles braced for—well, something. Another sudden storm? A flying Electrode? More chaos?

But Ashley wasn't in danger.

She was grinning. Practically bouncing in her seat like a Plusle on caffeine. One hand shot out, pointing eagerly at the stage, her other gripping Mercury so she didn't topple him in the process.

"Venus!" she whispered, loud enough to startle Mars. "Look—it's Harry! Our first contest battle—you remember him, right?! The guy with the Meowth and the overconfident flair?!"

Venus blinked and turned her attention toward the stage.

There he was.

Harry.

And yep—still wearing that ridiculous, high-collared navy-blue suit with the gold trim. Still standing like he owned the arena, chin tilted up and arm raised in a flourish like the crowd had been waiting specifically for him. The spotlight curved dramatically behind him as if that pose alone deserved cinematic lighting.

Venus tilted her head.

Alright. Maybe a little less ridiculous than before. Maybe.

He hadn't even thrown his Poké Ball yet, and Venus was already scanning the stage for his Meowth—mentally prepping for the shiny claws, the smug grin, the way he always dodged just enough to be annoying.

But the Poké Ball clicked open.

And out stepped… not Meowth.

Venus blinked again, ears twitching forward.

A Sylveon.

No, a shiny Sylveon.

The ribbons of pale blue fluttered like slow snowfall in a breeze. Her coat shimmered like polished opals under the lights, delicate and impossibly pristine. Where most Sylveon had pink accents, this one glowed with silver and sky blue. Ethereal. Almost ghostlike. The moment her paws touched the stage floor, it was like the space itself bent toward grace.

Venus let out a quiet huff. A little annoyed. A little impressed.

She had to give them credit—the entrance was stunning.

Sylveon began to move.

Not walk.

Glide.

Her paws never fully lifted, yet they barely touched the ground. Like her entire frame was carried by the wind itself. Fairy Wind shimmered in the air like stardust, curling around her ribbons like silken threads. She twirled, and Hyper Voice followed—a cascading bell-tone hum that rippled through the arena. The sound hit like music, not an attack, vibrating across the walls and shaking the spotlight with subtle pulses.

Even Mars—stone-faced Mars—tilted his head slightly.

Gary let out a slow whistle. "Okay… that's not bad."

Ashley laughed. "Not bad?! He brought a shiny Sylveon, Gary. That's cheating."

Venus squinted. It was beautiful. But more than that—it was clean. Polished. Every move was rehearsed down to the flick of her ribbons. No wasted motion. No wobble in the landing. She danced, not battled. But if she did battle, Venus could tell—it would be a performance just as cutting as it was beautiful.

Ashley leaned down and scratched Venus between the ears. "Looks like someone's got competition," she teased, a grin playing at her lips.

Venus didn't blink. She flicked her tail once and kept watching.

This Sylveon wasn't just for show.

She was a real rival.

Venus could respect that. But the next time they were on the same stage?

She was going to crush her.

When all was said and done, the moment the scoreboard lit up with Harry's name in the top spot, Venus didn't even twitch. She'd expected it. That Sylveon had swept the appeal round clean—every move sharp, every detail curated to shine. The judges didn't even hesitate. First place. Easy.

Gary leaned back in his seat with a soft "Huh."

Ashley smirked beside him. "Told you he'd make it."

Gary rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Okay, fashion-forward Harry's got the top slot. Good for him."

Venus let their voices blur into the background as she watched the scoreboard flicker and shift, the battle bracket forming just beneath the names. Familiar patterns. The anticipation of battle hung in the air even though she wouldn't be part of it—not today. Still, her paws twitched a little. Her muscles itched for movement. For that coiled grace, the tension of waiting on a command.

Ashley glanced down, brushing a knuckle over Venus's head. "First contest I've ever just… watched," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. "Not running around backstage. Not trying to convince Proserpina to wear her accessory properly. Not stressing over battle order."

Gary chuckled. "So, this is what it's like when you relax at one of these things?"

Ashley snorted. "Shut up."

Venus watched her trainer's face. There was no tightness in her shoulders this time. No fidgeting. She looked… light. Still focused. Still Ashley. But different. Like letting herself enjoy the event was its own kind of accomplishment.

Venus agreed, in her own quiet way.

It was nice. Not being center stage. Just being present.

But when Ashley stood, brushing crumbs off her skirt and mumbling something about popcorn and lemonades, Venus was on her paws before she could finish the sentence.

The job was hers today.

Mars had chosen to stay with Gary. Mercury was too sleepy to be pulled from his new napping position at Gary's lap. Now that Vulcan was too big and not indoor-friendly, being their trainer's bodyguard fell to Venus.

She slipped into step beside Ashley, tail low and controlled, eyes scanning without seeming to. The hallways outside the main contest arena buzzed with leftover applause and the thrum of waiting competitors. Trainers whispered nervously to their Pokémon. Staff darted between doors holding clipboards. Somewhere, someone dropped a Poké Ball case and cursed under their breath.

Venus stayed close to Ashley's right, just behind her leg, her presence firm but fluid. No one paid too much attention to them—Ashley wasn't competing today. But a few heads still turned, nodding in recognition.

Ashley paused in front of the snack kiosk, tapping her fingers lightly against her wallet. "Okay, okay," she muttered, scanning the menu like it was a puzzle to solve. "Popcorn. Definitely popcorn. And two lemonades. One for me, one for Gary. Unless he complains about the acidity again. Which he will. And I'll ignore."

Venus sat by her feet, gaze slowly circling the hallway. After everything—after psychic blasts, dark oceans, helicopters falling from the sky—Venus didn't take chances anymore. Not with her.

Ashley hummed to herself, tapping her fingers against the counter while the attendant filled their order. "Extra salt, please. And, uh, do you have those sour gummies shaped like Psyducks?"

Venus rolled her eyes.

Of course she did.

The smell of popcorn lingered thick in the air, wafting off the red-striped bucket clutched between Ashley's hands as she got back to her seat, practically daring Gary to make another comment. Venus remained at her post by her trainer's feet, ears flicking back and forth as if judging them both equally.

Gary flicked a single piece of gummy into his mouth and made a face like he was the final word in gourmet food criticism. "I'm just saying," he said, leaning back in his seat with the air of someone far too smug for his own good, "caramel popcorn has texture. Character. Salty popcorn is just… sweat-flavored cardboard."

Ashley gasped, clutching the bucket dramatically to her chest like Gary had insulted one of her Pokémon. "Sweat-flavored?! Excuse me? This is a timeless classic. It's perfection in simplicity. Besides, you could train a Growlithe with this stuff. That caramel junk just makes your fingers sticky."

Gary rolled his eyes, but his mouth twitched like he was holding back a grin. "Yeah, well, enjoy your bag of salted disappointment."

"Better than a cavity on a stick!"

Venus would've sighed if she could. Instead, she slowly blinked, curled her tail neatly beside her, and resigned herself to the fact that if these two weren't bickering about battle strategy, they were arguing about snacks. Humans were weird, but Venus was starting to understand that this was how they bonded. A sort of low-stakes verbal wrestling that left them both smiling by the end.

She liked it.

It meant things were normal again.

At least, as normal as anything ever got with Ashley.

The chatter kept going through the first couple of battles, light commentary tossed in between popcorn debates—Ashley rating appeal strategy like she was born in the judge's booth, and Gary occasionally pretending to disagree just to poke her. Venus remained alert, tail tapping lightly against the carpet every now and then when the crowd got too loud or when someone passed a little too close to Ashley's side.

Then—

The third match began.

Ashley's eyes widened, and she jolted upright so fast she nearly elbowed Mercury in the face. "Wait—WAIT. Is that—?!"

Venus looked up from her people-watching—and her sleek body stiffened.

There, strutting onto the stage like he owned the entire continent of Kanto, was a Persian.

Not just any Persian.

Harry's.

Venus blinked in surprise. She did not know why seeing her rival evolved shocked her, after all, she had also evolved since the last time they faced each other.

Ashley squealed again, pointing so hard she almost spilled her lemonade. "HE EVOLVED! Gary, look! Look! That's the same Meowth! The one we beat!"

Gary squinted at the field, nodding slowly. "Huh. Well. He doesn't look so beatable anymore."

Venus had to agree. The evolution had changed more than just the body—though the Persian's sleek fur shimmered under the lights, not a hair out of place. The way he moved, he wasn't just a Pokémon following orders anymore. He was performance. He was coyness. He wanted this win.

And his opponent—a tall, heavy-set Arbok—was not ready for it.

The Persian darted in low, a blur of silver and shadows. The Arbok spat Poison Fang, but Persian spun beneath it, landed on all fours, then shot forward again in a Flash attack that left afterimages dancing across the stage. He wasn't just dodging—he was taunting.

Venus could practically feel the smug vibrating off him from here.

"Look at that smug walk," Gary muttered under his breath, leaning forward. "He's strutting. On the battlefield."

Ashley cackled. "Oh, he's mad. He wants that victory arc, and he's doing it in style!"

The next move was Quick Attack, but with a twist—Persian doubled back mid-sprint, forcing the Arbok to turn, then slammed a perfectly aimed Iron Tail across its jaw. Arbok reeled back with a pained hiss, coiling defensively—but the judges' point bar had already dropped like a rock.

Venus watched, ears twitching.

Precision. Timing. Ruthlessness.

She was impressed.

Very impressed.

She could respect someone with a flair for drama and effectiveness. Even if he was insufferably presumptuous.

The battle was quick and brutal. Persian took a single hit—a badly timed Wrap that it slipped out of in seconds with a Double Team maneuver that turned the entire battlefield into a blur of copies. The match ended with a final Feint Attack that slammed into Arbok's coil, knocking the wind out of it. The bell rang before a full knockout—but it didn't matter. The scoreboard was already clear.

A perfect win.

The crowd burst into applause. A few people in the audience whistled, and Harry—standing at the edge of the stage—gave a shallow bow, as if he hadn't just commanded a tactical masterpiece with the elegance of a Kalos runway model.

Venus tilted her head slowly.

Okay.

Harry and Sylveon were one thing.

But Harry and Persian?

That was the real threat.

She felt a familiar fire rise under her skin. That rush of pre-battle focus. That certainty.

As the battle rounds came to an end, two hours later, Ashley practically launched out of her seat, as the lights dimmed and the announcer's voice echoed through the contest hall, "And the winner of the Lavender Town Contest is—Harry and his Persian!"

The spotlight swept across the stage as confetti burst from the ceiling in a shower of pink and silver. Venus flinched slightly—loud noises still set her nerves on edge—but quickly reset herself, standing firm by Ashley's legs.

On stage, Harry stood with one raised hand and a smirk that could power a whole city block. Sylveon preened with a delicate pirouette, ribbons fluttering with choreographed grace, while Persian sat cool and composed, looking like he belonged on a throne. The judge handed over the ribbon in a dainty little case, and Harry accepted it with a dramatic flair that Venus could only describe as unnecessarily stylish.

Ashley was already clapping, whistling, cheering loud enough to make Gary wince.

"YOU GO, HARRY!" she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth, nearly spilling the last of the lemonades they hadn't even finished. "SHOW 'EM WHAT FANCY LOOKS LIKE!"

Venus twitched her ears at the sound, but her eyes stayed on the stage. She had no problem admitting they'd earned it. Sylveon's appeal had been tight. Persian's battle even tighter. That ribbon wasn't handed out—it was won.

Gary, meanwhile, remained seated. He slowly crossed his arms, side-eyeing Ashley with all the drama of someone who was very much used to this behavior. "You act like you raised him," he muttered, barely audible under the noise.

Ashley sat back down beside him with a huff and a grin. "What? I'm allowed to be proud of my competition. Just wait till we are back up there."

Gary smirked, elbowing her lightly. "Yeah, yeah. You expect me to cheer this hard when you win?"

Ashley pretended to gasp. "Excuse you! When I win? I expect a parade."

"Uh-huh. I'll bring the confetti cannon."

Venus let their voices fade into a warm buzz, as the stage lights dimmed again as the victory music faded out. The contest was officially over, but the buzz of conversation, the rustle of clothing and Pokémon stretching after hours of stillness—it all blended into a sort of post-performance haze.

They stepped out into the early evening air, the sky overhead painted with streaks of lavender and rose, matching the contest hall's namesake in color if not mood. The energy of the event still lingered in the breeze, but outside, it felt quieter. Calmer. The applause was gone, replaced by the hum of conversation, the shuffle of departing guests, and the occasional bark or chirp of someone's Pokémon.

Ashley walked with Mercury cradled in her arms, the little Eevee still dozing, his fluffy tail twitching every so often like he was still dreaming of digging through someone's flowerbed. Mars led the way with sharp, focused steps, his tail flame casting small flickers of light along the sidewalk. Venus followed at the rear, head held high, fins shifting slightly with each step as she scanned the edges of the crowd out of habit.

The trio moved like a small parade: compact, careful, and full of energy despite the long day. Ashley was humming under her breath. Gary, walking beside her, was sipping a soda from the concession stand and pretending he hadn't enjoyed the show.

They'd just turned the corner past the contest center's steps when Venus's ears twitched. There—footsteps. Confident. Polished shoes hitting pavement like they knew it belonged to them. Ashley's head snapped up.

"Harry!" she shouted before Venus could even process the rest. Ashley's voice rang like a bell, cheerful and too loud in the open air.

Gary sighed dramatically, not even trying to hide the way he rolled his eyes. "Do you have to yell every time you see him?"

Ashley ignored him. Completely.

Harry stepped into view, hands shoved casually in his coat pockets, with Persian trailing behind like a sleek shadow, head held proud, fur gleaming under the streetlights. He smirked. "I knew I heard you when they handed me that ribbon," he said, voice warm with amusement as he slowed to a stop in front of them. "I figured only one person I know screams like that."

Ashley beamed, her cheeks pink with pride—or the leftover contest excitement. "I thought it would only be fair to cheer as I wasn't competing!"

Harry's smile dipped for just half a second. Then it was back in place. "You didn't compete," he said, more curious now. "That's not like you."

Ashley's smile faltered. Just a crack. She shrugged, bouncing Mercury slightly in her arms like it was no big deal. "I wasn't… really feeling it," she said. Her voice was light, like she was trying to make it sound like she'd just had a long nap and missed registration. "Just needed a breather."

Venus, watching from behind, caught it—the flicker in Harry's gaze. Just a moment. His eyes dipped to Gary's sling, then to the soft butterfree bandage on her healing forehead. He didn't say anything about it.

But Venus saw it.

Harry didn't push. He could've. He was that kind of guy—direct, sharp—but not mean. But he didn't dig.

Venus was still watching him carefully, noting how Persian stopped beside his trainer and gave the group a long, unreadable stare. The feline's eyes flicked to her, and for a moment, two sets of predator eyes met.

Venus tilted her head. Persian blinked slowly, then sat.

Ashley broke the silence again with her usual cheer. "Your Sylveon was amazing! Seriously! And that battle? That Persian sweep? I was half-ready to jump on stage and yell 'plot twist!'"

Harry chuckled. "You should've. Might've made the other guy actually try."

Gary snorted. "Nah, he was cooked after the first minute. You didn't even let him get momentum."

Persian gave a pleased huff.

Ashley looked between the three of them and grinned. "Anyway, congrats, seriously. You earned that win."

Harry smiled again—real this time. "Thanks. But I'm looking forward to when we battle again."

Ashley chuckled, adjusting Mercury in her arms. "Don't worry. We'll be back. Better than ever."

"Good," Harry said, then added with a wink, "Just don't cry when I win next time."

Harry finally turned to Gary, his eyes squinting slightly, not in suspicion, but curiosity.

Ashley smirked as she patted Gary's shoulder—carefully, since his arm was still in a sling. "Oh, right. Harry, this is Gary. My annoying pseudo-brother. He bites sometimes, but he's mostly housebroken."

Gary gave her a bland stare. "Wow. You really should've gone into PR."

Harry laughed as he extended his hand. "Ah, the Gary Oak. Grandson of the Professor Oak, right?"

Gary reached out with his good hand and shook it. "Yeah. I'm also a person, not just a nameplate."

Ashley snorted.

"Pleasure," Harry said with a nod. "Didn't know you were into contests."

"I'm not," Gary deadpanned. "I'm just here for the drama and the popcorn."

"Which he judges," Ashley chimed in, "with the same intensity as he judges battle strategies."

Harry chuckled. "Fair. You two seriously sound like a bickering couple."

"Don't start," they both said at the same time, and then instantly turned to glare at each other.

Harry then approached with a broad grin, his eyes sparkled with amusement as he remarked, " Venus is as cute as ever." His gaze, however, was fixed on Mercury, nestled comfortably in Ashley's embrace.

Ashley chuckled, adjusting Mercury slightly to give him a better view. " Oh, this isn't Venus. This is Mercury, my Eevee." She then stepped aside, gesturing towards Venus, whose aquatic blue body shimmered under the streetlights. " And speaking of evolutions, Meowth isn't the only one who's had a glow-up."

Harry's eyes widened in astonishment. " No way!" He took a step closer, crouching slightly to get a better look at Venus. Venus, ever the proud one, lifted her head and swayed her tail gracefully, basking in the attention.

Still marveling, Harry ran a hand through his hair. " After our last battle, I was so impressed by Venus that I decided to find my own Eevee. I was over the moon when he evolved into a Sylveon." He then looked back at Ashley, a playful pout on his face. " And now I find out you have two? No fair!"

Gary, who had been observing the exchange with a smirk, crossed his arms. " Well, Ashley always did have a knack for one-upping people."

Ashley stuck her tongue out at Gary before turning back to Harry. " What can I say? I guess I just have a special bond with my Pokémon." Venus purred softly, rubbing her head against Ashley's leg, while Mercury let out a contented chirp from her arms. Ashley tilted her head. "You heading out?"

Harry grinned. "Well, you're welcome to dinner with me and my team—celebrating my fifth ribbon." He held up his badge case proudly, opening it with a little flourish. The ribbon gleamed in its new spot.

Ashley's eyes sparkled with playful envy. "Ugh, I still need two more. I feel so behind."

"You need to keep in thought that you started the season late. You'll catch up soon," Harry said with a confident wave. "Your team's terrifying."

As they turned to head down the road toward the restaurants, Venus kept pace behind Ashley, walking tall and poised. Persian trotted beside his trainer, and Venus tilted her head toward the feline.

A soft sound—somewhere between a murmur and a hum—left Venus's throat as she nudged Persian's shoulder. The movement was subtle, but the meaning was clear: Well fought.

Persian blinked, then returned the gesture with a flick of his tail and a rumbling, satisfied chuff. He kept his chin high, but there was no arrogance in it—just pride.

Mars, stalking behind Gary with his usual broody flair, gave Persian a long, considering look. His tail flame flickered a bit higher, and for a moment it seemed like he was going to ignore the whole exchange entirely. But then, with the tiniest grunt, he gave a single nod. A rare show of respect.

Venus side-eyed him. She knew how much he hated contests. For him to acknowledge a performance like that meant a lot.

"Whoa," Ashley muttered, glancing down. "Venus, are you being social?"

Venus gave a soft trill and flicked her fin at Ashley's leg. She had to keep up appearances, after all. She wasn't just a bodyguard—she had her dignity.

Gary raised an eyebrow. "Should we be worried? She's not glaring at anything."

"She's mellowed," Ashley teased. "It's called growth, Gary."

Harry looked between them all, hands shoved in his pockets as they walked down the lantern-lit street. "Your team's got...vibes."

Gary looked at him flatly. "You don't even know the half of it."

"Oh, don't scare him off now," Ashley said brightly. "He just got upgraded to dinner-buddy status."

Venus let out a long, amused sigh as they passed by a ramen shop and turned down a side street glowing with the orange warmth of paper lanterns. Gary and Harry had slipped into some half-playful argument about Umbreon vs. Jolteon potential, while Ashley was already scanning the menus in the windows.

The scent of grilled teriyaki and steamed dumplings drifted through the warm evening air as they reached the small restaurant tucked between two souvenir shops and a shrine gift stand. Strings of soft lanterns swung gently overhead, casting a golden glow over the patio. Wooden tables were nestled beneath climbing ivy, and a pair of waiters were already rushing to push two of them together to make room for the group—humans and Pokémon alike.

Ashley set Mercury down, the little Eevee yawning dramatically before curling up under her chair. Mars took up his usual post at Gary's side, arms crossed, tail flame flickering lazily, while Venus found a comfortable spot beside Ashley's chair, keeping half her attention on the table and half on the darkening street. Persian stretched out across from her like royalty, eyes half-lidded but alert. Sylveon, looking a bit too pristine for the cobblestone ground, daintily sat beside Harry, ears twitching with every sound.

The food came quickly—bento boxes, grilled skewers, fried tofu, rice, miso soup, and two massive bowls of noodles that made Gary mutter, "You ordered that much?" to Ashley.

"I almost died like, two weeks ago," Ashley replied, already snapping her chopsticks apart. "I deserve noodles."

Harry laughed, mouth half-full of tempura. "Hard to argue with that logic."

Conversation flowed easily after that. Harry, propped up against the table with a sake-free lemonade in one hand, started to recap his journey since their last contest run-in.

"So, get this," he said, jabbing his skewer toward Ashley. "Remember those three girls who were mean and got you into contests?"

Ashley's eyes narrowed. "Ugh. Don't remind me."

Venus growled low in her throat, a bubbling gurgle from her chest. The disrespect. The audacity.

"Well," Harry continued, grinning, "they dropped out."

Ashley paused, chopsticks halfway to her mouth. "Wait, what?"

"One ribbon each. Couldn't handle the heat. One of them got knocked out by a Rattata. On live television."

Gary snorted so hard he almost choked. "You're kidding."

"Wish I was," Harry said with a mock bow. "Revenge has never tasted so petty. And I loved every second."

Ashley looked positively gleeful. "That's what they get for being fake-nice."

"Anyway," Harry said, straightening up, "excluding you, my strongest competition's this guy named Damian."

Ashley's smile softened. "Yeah. He's my friend. He's... really good."

"He's insane." Gary, mid-chew, waved a skewer like a pointer. "He turns contests into mini horror movies. Literal nightmare fuel," Gary added, putting down his food dramatically. "His Gengar came out of a rain cloud. There were screams."

"Oh, come on, you liked it," Ashley teased. "You called it 'weirdly cinematic.'"

"I also called it trauma-inducing."

Harry was chuckling into his drink. "Okay, now I want to see that contest."

"No, you don't," Gary deadpanned. "Unless you hate sleeping."

The whole table cracked up. Even Mars cracked a smirk.

Venus leaned against Ashley's leg, her tail curling around her paws. The laughter, the smell of grilled food, the chatter of the town... it wasn't perfect. The world still had sharp edges. But right now, this felt like something close to peace. Even after everything—the cruise, the storm, the panic—there was warmth here.

She glanced at Persian, who gave her a lazy, approving blink.

Yeah.

This was a good way to end the day.