Inside the bathroom, the mist was dense.
Misty's face flushed as she instinctively tried to cover herself.
Delia glanced at her and shook her head with a smile. "You're already in here, why bother covering up? I'll have to help you in a moment anyway."
Misty's face turned even redder, but she slowly lowered her hands. "Thank you, Sister Delia."
"It's nothing. In the future, maybe I'll need your help too, little sister."
Delia chuckled and began her task.
...
While the atmosphere in the bathroom was thick, the atmosphere in the courtyard was equally subtle.
Roy and Aimi looked at each other and smiled for a long while before Aimi finally looked away first.
"Then... then I'll go change!" she said with her head down. "It's not convenient to teach you boxing in this outfit."
Roy looked at her current attire.
A hip-hugging skirt and a small cardigan—it really wasn't suited for strenuous exercise.
"Alright."
Aimi turned and ran toward the house, her steps a bit flustered.
...
It wasn't long before she came back out.
Roy looked up, his gaze pausing for a moment.
Aimi had completely swapped her ladylike outfit.
On top, she wore a tight white tank top. The neckline wasn't particularly low, revealing a small patch of fair collarbone. The tank top clung tightly to her body, outlining her slender waist and the curve of her chest—not overly voluminous, but perky and firm, clearly the physique of someone who exercised regularly.
The bottom half was even more eye-catching.
A pair of light blue denim hot pants, as short as they could possibly be.
The edges of the pant legs were frayed, looking intentionally distressed. Two legs, glowing white, extended from the shorts—long and straight, without a hint of excess fat.
The fabric at the base of her thighs tightly hugged her bottom, tracing a slight curve.
If Aimi hadn't been wearing relatively thick cotton panties, some wonderful shapes might have been visible through the tension.
She wore white sneakers; her ankles were slender, and the lines of her calves were smooth.
She had transformed from a gentle lady into a vibrant, athletic girl.
"Um..." Aimi felt a bit self-conscious under his gaze, her hand instinctively tugging at the hem of her hot pants. "It's easier to move like this. Does it look good?"
As soon as she said it, she regretted it.
What did she mean, 'Does it look good?'
What kind of question was that!
Roy, however, replied honestly: "It looks very good."
Aimi's face reddened again, but the corners of her mouth couldn't help but curl up.
"Then... then let's begin!"
She walked to the center of the courtyard, took a deep breath, and struck a starting pose.
"Mr. Roy, watch closely. I'll perform our family's fist technique once so you can get a feel for it."
With that, she began the form.
Raising hands, punching, turning, kicking...
The set of movements flowed like water.
To be honest, Aimi looked like such a gentle and beautiful woman, but her boxing was actually quite impressive and formidable.
Her movements were powerful but not stiff, supple yet carrying force. With every punch thrown, the faint sound of air breaking could be heard. With every kick, her waist twisted to drive the leg, the lines as graceful as a dance, but the power was clearly intended for actual combat.
Especially when she turned, her bottom, encased in the hot pants, pulled tight, the muscle lines faintly visible.
And the slight tremor of her chest as she punched...
As Roy watched, a smile played on his lips.
Interesting.
This girl looked quiet, but who would have thought such great strength was hidden in her body.
After finishing the set, Aimi came to a stop, a thin layer of sweat already beading on her forehead.
She took a breath and looked at Roy: "How was it?"
Roy clapped supportively. "Impressive."
Aimi smiled bashfully. "Actually, my practice is only average. I was only about ten when my grandfather was around, so I didn't learn much. Later, I relied entirely on studying the secret manuals myself, so there are bound to be many mistakes."
She walked over to Roy's side.
"Come, I'll teach you. Let's start with the most basic stance."
...
For the following time, the two of them practiced in the courtyard.
Aimi taught very seriously, correcting Roy's movements by hand.
"Feet a bit further apart, yes, shoulder-width."
"Sink your waist, keep your center of gravity low, don't stick your butt out..."
As she said this, she suddenly stalled, her face turning slightly red.
What did she mean, 'don't stick your butt out'...
Why did that sound so strange?
She quickly cleared her throat and continued: "Um... I mean... keep your waist tucked in, yes, just like that."
Roy adjusted his posture according to her instructions.
Because he had the foundation of the Guts Fist Technique's mental method, he learned this set of boxing incredibly fast.
The Guts Fist Technique emphasized momentum and the mobilization of internal energy, while Aimi's family technique focused more on power-delivery techniques and the coordination of body parts. Combining the two, he grasped many key points instantly.
After a set of basic movements, he could already perform them quite decently.
Watching from the side, Aimi's eyes lit up.
"Mr. Roy, you learn so fast!"
Roy smiled. "It's because you're a good teacher. A beautiful coach giving hands-on lessons!"
Aimi's face turned red again.
How could this man... how could he always say things like that.
Even though she knew Roy might just be being polite, hearing it made her heart feel sweet.
"Then... then let's continue with the next section!"
...
Time flew by during their practice.
Having learned nearly half of the complete fist technique, both were covered in sweat.
Roy's tank top was soaked, clinging to his body and outlining his solid muscle contours. Aimi's small white tank top was also wet with sweat; the color deepened at the neckline and back, and the fabric clung to her skin, faintly revealing the flesh tones beneath.
She panted, wiping the sweat from her forehead, looking at Roy with eyes full of surprise and joy.
"Mr. Roy, you are truly amazing. It's only been a little over an hour, and you've learned nearly half. My grandfather took several disciples back then, and some couldn't box as well as you even after a month."
Roy finished his stance and stretched his shoulders.
"Maybe it's because I've practiced something else before; I have a bit of a foundation."
This was entirely thanks to the Guts Fist Technique he had practiced before; although it was crude, it had familiarized Roy with the basics of fist-based techniques.
"That's still very impressive," Aimi said sincerely. "I... I practiced this technique for several years to get to where I am now. With talent like yours, if you had practiced since childhood, you might already be a Fighting Master by now."
She looked at Roy, her fondness growing the more she looked.
The man before her was tall and sturdy, with handsome features and a smile that was both gentle and reliable.
He had promised to help her teach her father a lesson, he was considerate of her feelings, and he was so serious when learning the technique...
And earlier in the wild, the way he commanded Pikachu to drive away the Hitmonchan...
Aimi felt her heartbeat quicken.
Her chest felt a bit tight as well.
Her whole body felt a tingling numbness and warmth, as if something were gently scratching her.
This was a reaction she had never experienced after her usual practice sessions.
She quickly tried to divert her attention and spoke up.
"Mr. Roy, what... what do you think of this fist technique?"
Roy looked at her, his gaze warm.
"Very good. Your technique is excellent, and your skills in training Fighting-type Pokémon are impressive too."
Even though Roy already possessed intermediate Psychic powers and might not need to rely on this boxing for combat...
Strengthening his physical health was still very necessary.
After all, Delia and Misty were already grooming themselves in the bathroom; he anticipated there would be a tough battle ahead.
He needed to build a strong physical foundation to fight to the end.
After a moment of internal teasing, Roy returned to a serious tone.
"Aimi, actually, you could try to revive your family's Fighting Spirit Gym."
Aimi froze for a moment.
"What?"
"I'm serious," Roy explained. "You know fighting techniques, you can train Pokémon, and you're so hardworking. Maybe in the future, you really could become the Leader of a city's representative Gym."
Aimi listened, stunned at first, then she smiled.
But there was a hint of bitterness in her smile.
"Mr. Roy, thank you for saying that. But... I don't dare to think that far ahead."
She lowered her head, her voice soft.
"Right now, I just want to take care of my mother. She's not in good health and needs someone. And I have to deal with my father's troubles... Once all that is resolved, then we can talk about the future."
Roy looked at her lowered eyelashes and didn't say anything more.
Everyone has their own path to walk; he couldn't make decisions for others.
"Alright, then let's solve the immediate problems first."
"Leave your father's side of things to me."
Aimi looked up at him, her eyes bright.
"Mm!"
...
Roy took out a poké ball and recalled Primeape.
The little guy had practiced for a long time and was exhausted; going back was just right for some rest.
"Let's stop here for today."
"Go take a shower, you're covered in sweat."
Aimi nodded.
The two of them walked toward the house.
Entering the door, the living room was quiet.
Pikachu and Eevee were curled up together on the sofa, already asleep. Pikachu was curled into a small yellow ball, and Eevee was snuggled beside it, its tail draped over its body. The two little things were squeezed together, sleeping soundly.
They were probably tired from playing.
Roy glanced at them but didn't disturb them.
Delia and Misty were not in the living room either; they must have returned to their rooms.
Ayano was physically weak and had long since gone to rest.
The whole house was so quiet that only the ticking of the clock on the wall could be heard.
"You go first," Roy said to Aimi.
Aimi wanted to be polite, but looking down at herself covered in sweat, she was indeed a bit embarrassed.
"Then... then I'll go first, I'll be quick."
She hurried toward the bathroom.
...
Inside the bathroom, the steam was rising.
Aimi closed the door and took off her sweat-soaked clothes.
The small white tank top was placed on the clothing rack, and the denim hot pants were draped beside it.
Finally, her panties.
Those cotton, light green panties with lace trim.
As she took them off, she looked down; she had sweated so much.
Aimi's face reddened, and she quickly balled up the panties and placed them on the rack as well.
There really was a lot of sweat today...
Without thinking much more, she turned on the showerhead.
Hot water cascaded from above, washing away the sweat from her body.
Aimi stood under the water, eyes closed, letting the hot water slide over her cheeks, neck, and chest...
She squeezed out some body wash and began to scrub her body.
Her hands passed over her collarbone and her chest.
Then her hands continued downward, sliding over her waist and abdomen.
Aimi comfortably and gently washed herself.
With her eyes closed, she recalled all the wonderful things from today.
Eating with Roy, practicing boxing together.
Roy standing in the courtyard, smiling at her.
He said: "It looks good."
He said: "It's because you're a good teacher."
He said: "You might become a Gym Leader in the future."
Those images flashed frame by frame, and accompanied by the rubbing of her fingers, Aimi suddenly felt a strange sensation.
It felt so good.
Aimi had never experienced this feeling before.
She had always been busy taking care of her mother, working to earn money, and dealing with her father's mess. She never had time for romance or anything like that, and she had never had this feeling.
What was wrong today?
She didn't know.
She only knew that showering like this felt so good.
Indulged in the moment, Aimi only then realized she had been showering for quite a while.
Roy was still waiting outside.
Aimi quickly rinsed clean and turned off the shower.
As she dried her body with a towel, her hands were still trembling slightly. She then wrapped the towel around her body and pushed the door open to go out.
...
"Mr. Roy, it's ready for you."
Aimi called out toward the living room and then hurried back to her room.
Closing the door, she leaned against it, clutching her chest and panting heavily.
That feeling in the bathroom just now...
It was so strange.
But it felt so good.
She walked to the bed, wanting to sit and rest for a moment.
Just as her bottom touched the edge of the bed, she suddenly remembered something and stood up abruptly.
"Oh no!"
She covered her mouth and gasped softly.
My panties are still...
Those sweat-soaked, light green cotton panties!
And the matching bra!
They were just thrown on the very top of the clothing rack, plain as day!
Aimi's face instantly turned deep red, even the tips of her ears were burning.
She wanted to rush out and get them back, but her legs were too weak to move.
And...
And Mr. Roy should have already gone to the bathroom, right?
If she rushed out now, wouldn't it be even more embarrassing?
She covered her face and collapsed onto the bed, letting out a small wail.
It's over, it's over, it's over...
What would Mr. Roy think?
Would he think she did it on purpose?
Aimi tossed and turned on the bed, overwhelmed with shame.
...
Meanwhile, in the bathroom.
Roy pushed the door open.
The bathroom was still filled with steam, and the scent of body wash lingered in the air—faint, sweet, and somewhat like the scent on Aimi's body.
He glanced at the small clothing rack by the bathtub.
A pair of light green cotton panties with a white lace border.
And a matching bra, simple in style but very clean.
The panties had just been taken off and still carried moisture.
That scent of sweat mixed with a unique fragrance wafted over faintly, entering his nose.
Roy was stunned for a moment, then he smiled.
What does this mean...?
Without overthinking, Roy gently picked up Aimi's messily placed panties and bra, tidied them up, and made some space for his own clothes.
Then he took off his own clothes and pants, hanging them on the other side.
He turned on the shower and began to wash.
The hot water hitting his body felt wonderful.
Today had indeed been quite exhausting.
But the gains were also significant.
That fist technique really had something to it.
And the techniques Aimi mentioned for training Fighting-type Pokémon were also very useful.
As he washed, he thought about his next plans.
The P1 Fighting Tournament was coming up soon.
He had to make time to train Primeape.
With Aimi's help, it should improve a lot.
Once he was mostly finished, he turned off the shower and dried his body.
He put on clean clothes and packed up his dirty ones.
Finally, he took one last look at the light green panties nearby, then opened the door and went back to his bedroom to rest.
In her bedroom, Aimi had been paying close attention to the sounds from the bathroom.
As soon as she heard the bathroom door open, Aimi's door immediately opened a crack, and a small head peeked out, looking left and right.
Seeing Roy leave, she quickly ran back into the bathroom.
Closing the door, she leaned against it, her heart pounding fiercely.
She looked up at the clothing rack; her panties and bra had been neatly placed to one side.
They were no longer in their original messy state.
The position had changed—Roy did it?
Roy touched my sweat-soaked panties?
Oh my~
Aimi was incredibly ashamed; even though they were just discarded clothes, she felt a sense of shame as if Roy had touched her directly.
She covered her face and squatted on the floor.
Too embarrassing, too embarrassing, too embarrassing!
***************************
Thoughts on where the plot is heading? Let me know in the comments! If you're enjoying the ride, please leave a quick review and toss a few Power Stones my way. Every bit of support means the world! 🙌