The golden morning light of Solaceon Town filtered through the curtains, illuminating a scene of absolute, fluffy domesticity.
On the bed, Julian was out cold. He had long since kicked the duvet to the floor, leaving him in a tangle of limbs and ribbons. His left hand was firmly entwined with one of Sylveon's feelers, his palm resting squarely on her soft, white underbelly. Even in his sleep, his thumb occasionally brushed against her fur. Sylveon didn't seem to mind; she let out a sleepy, melodic chirp, pawing at the air like a kitten before snuggling deeper into Julian's side.
The upper half of Julian's face, meanwhile, had been completely colonised by a massive, flaxen tail. It was thick, warm, and smelled vaguely of the cedar-scented shampoo from yesterday's marathon bath session. Only his mouth was visible, stretched into a blissful, unconscious grin.
Connected to that tail was Growlithe, whose head was propped comfortably on Julian's shoulder. The orange-and-black puppy was snoring softly, his nose twitching as he inhaled the familiar scent of his Trainer. Nearby, on their own custom-made miniature pillows, Floette and Togetic were tucked in, looking like two tiny dolls in a peaceful slumber.
By the time the sun was high enough to signal late morning, the peace had been replaced by the rhythmic sounds of training.
"Sylveon, Encore! Now, follow up with Fairy Wind!"
"Floette, use Psychic to dampen the gust!"
On the private training field behind the hotel, Julian was overseeing a sparring match. However, the visual was… unusual. Most Trainers stood with a whistle or a clipboard, looking professional and intense. Julian was sitting on a low wooden stool. His eyes were indeed tracking the pink and blue energies clashing on the field, but his hands were occupied.
He was currently buried wrist-deep in the orange fur of the Growlithe sitting on his lap. He was brushing, scratching, and kneading the puppy's back with a mechanical, obsessive rhythm.
"Woof... (Seriously, Julian... haven't you petted me enough today? We haven't even had lunch,)" Growlithe grumbled, his head tilted back as Julian found the 'magic spot' behind his ear.
"Ahem, what do you mean, 'petted enough'?" Julian replied, his voice a pitch higher than normal as he focused intently on the battle. "I'm supervising the girls' tactical cohesion. Since you're just sitting here being a spectator, I'm merely... performing incidental maintenance on your coat. It's efficient!"
"Woof... (But you've been doing 'maintenance' for forty-five minutes...)"
"Excellent work, Floette! Switch to a Psychic bind! Sylveon, use Protect to pivot!" Julian shouted, cutting Growlithe off.
Growlithe squinted at his Trainer. He would bet his favorite bone that Julian hadn't actually seen that last move; he was too busy checking if Growlithe's undercoat was soft enough. But, as the large hands continued to work their magic, Growlithe's eyelids began to droop. It was too comfortable to argue.
After several more rounds, Julian signaled for the girls to take a break. Floette and Togetic drifted over, panting slightly but looking satisfied. Before Growlithe could hop down to join them, a large hand clamped firmly onto his head.
"Wait, wait, Growlithe! I just had a brilliant idea for a new move. A real tactical breakthrough! Want to try it?"
"Woof! (A new move?)" Growlithe's ears perked up instantly. Training was his lifeblood; if there was a way to get stronger, he was all in.
However, as he tried to jump into the arena, Julian's grip didn't loosen. "Hold on, let me demonstrate the stance first. It's all about aerodynamics and energy conservation. First, stay in my lap. Cross your front paws over your hind legs. Try to grab your rear... or just tuck your legs in as tight as you can. Curl up like a ball."
"Woof? (Like this?)"
Growlithe complied, tucking his head toward his chest and pulling his limbs inward. He felt a bit silly, but he trusted Julian's research.
"Exactly! Perfect! Now, take that big, fluffy tail of yours, bring it up from underneath, and wrap it right over your head. Keep it taut. It needs to be a perfect sphere to minimize wind resistance."
With Julian's "help," Growlithe was soon tucked into a tight, orange-and-flaxen ball. His head was completely buried in his own fur. He couldn't see a thing. He waited expectantly, wondering if this was the secret to a high-speed Flame Charge or maybe a new variation of Iron Tail.
Outside the "dog-ball," the three other Pokémon were watching with increasingly judgmental expressions. They saw the look on Julian's face—it wasn't the look of a researcher. It was the look of a man about to commit a high-level prank.
Growlithe let out a muffled, nasal sound from inside his fur. "(Julian? What's the next step? Do I channel fire?) "
"The next step..." Julian whispered, his face alight with mischievous joy. "Is that this rare, giant Venonat is going into my stomach!"
In one swift motion, Julian pulled out the hem of his oversized hoodie, shoved the curled-up Growlithe directly against his belly, and tucked the shirt over him, pressing down firmly with both arms.
"???"
"!!!"
"Wuwuwu! (HEY! LET ME OUT! THIS ISN'T A MOVE!)"
The silence of the training field was shattered by muffled barking and the frantic wiggling of Julian's now-massive stomach. To anyone walking by, it looked like Julian had suddenly entered the final stages of a very strange pregnancy.
"Oh no! The Venonat is struggling!" Julian laughed, leaning back and patting his bulging midsection. He could feel Growlithe's soft fur squirming against his skin, and the muffled cursing of the puppy only made it funnier.
Floette, Sylveon, and Togetic stood in a row, watching their Trainer "wrestle" with his own stomach.
"Floette-flo... (He's finally lost it, hasn't he?)"
"Sylveon-fly. (The Aura amplification has clearly rotted his brain. Should we help the dog?)"
"Jia gei... (I think I'll just go get the camera.)"
Five minutes later, the "Venonat" finally managed to kick its way out.
What followed was a high-stakes chase. A disheveled Julian was sprinting around the perimeter of the arena, his hoodie flapping in the wind. Behind him, a furious, orange blur was nipping at his heels, barking with enough volume to wake the entire neighborhood.
"Holy crap! I was wrong! I'm sorry! Stop chasing me, Growlithe!"
"Woof! (In your dreams! 'New move' my tail! I'll show you a move—it's called 'Crunch' and it's aimed at your butt!)"
"It was a move!" Julian screamed, leaping over a training dummy. "I was teaching you the fundamentals of Rollout! I just didn't want you to get your fur dirty on the grass, so I let you Rollout on me! It was a sacrifice for your hygiene!"
(╬ ￣ dish ￣ )
Several veins practically popped on Growlithe's forehead. He put on a burst of speed, slammed into Julian's back, and sent them both sprawling into the soft grass. Growlithe immediately pinned Julian down, placing two heavy paws on his shoulders and growling inches from his nose.
"Mmmph~" Growlithe let out a low, vibration-heavy sound.
Translation: Guess if I believe a single word coming out of your mouth?
"Okay, okay! You win!" Julian gasped, laughing even as he was being pinned. "But wait—I just remembered! Seriously! The egg! The nurse said today was the window for the Exeggcute to hatch! We have to go to the Nursery right now!"
Growlithe narrowed his eyes. "Woof! (The oldest trick in the book! 'Look over there, a distraction!')"
"No, I'm serious! Look at the time!" Julian pointed toward the hotel clock visible through the window. "If we don't go now, we'll miss the birth of your new brother or sister!"
Growlithe hesitated. He looked at Julian's face—the lewd, pranking grin was gone, replaced by genuine excitement. With a huff, the puppy stepped off Julian's chest, though he gave Julian's ear a sharp, wet lick as a final "punishment."
"Alright, team!" Julian scrambled to his feet, dusting the grass off his jeans. "Grab your things! The Solaceon journey is reaching the grand finale. Let's go see who's waiting for us!"