The raw material was nothing more than a basic Oran Berry, and yet it had produced a genuinely perfect Pokéblock. Even Cynthia, despite winning the Grand Prix Championship herself, had only seen craftsmanship at this level once before, watching Wallace work in person. The quality spoke for itself. Garchomp's reaction alone was proof enough.
Cynthia glanced instinctively at Luke beside her. "You made this yourself?"
Luke followed her gaze to the Oran Berry cube in her hand and didn't bother hiding it. "Yeah. It sat in storage a bit too long or the quality would've been even higher."
Lucario, mid-chew on its own Pokéblock, froze and stared blankly into the middle distance. Wait. It gets better than this?
"Kojie! (﹃)" Haunter drooled openly at the mere thought of a fresh batch.
"You made this with that machine?" Cynthia pointed toward the old fruit blender sitting in the living room, one eyebrow raised.
Is there a problem with it?
"No," Cynthia said quickly, shaking her head and tucking a strand of hair back. "Just a little surprised, that's all."
Producing quality like this on outdated equipment genuinely caught her off guard.
"Is something wrong with the Pokémon?" Luke asked, expression shifting slightly. "I tried it myself and it tasted fine — well, Haunter said it was good, at least."
Cynthia smiled gently. "Quite the opposite. If anything they seem like an ideal match for each other."
Even the custom-tailored Pokéblock she usually bought her own team didn't produce results this polished on Garchomp. Cynthia thought she'd finally figured out why Teacher Luke lived so modestly. High-end Pokéblock production came with genuinely astronomical costs. Rather than spending on comfort or luxury he'd clearly poured serious money into perfecting this craft instead.
She thought of the renowned Pokéblock artisans she'd met over the years. The truly gifted ones tended to live simply despite their skill. People like that valued substance over appearance and found real contentment in something as modest as a bowl of rice and a gourd of water.
"Your Pokémon found themselves an excellent Trainer," Cynthia said with a small smile.
"Forget Trainer. I'm just the guy who cooks for them," Luke sighed.
"Have you eaten? I can make you some noodles."
Her flight had landed at ten that morning so she likely hadn't had lunch yet. If it were just Luke on his own he'd have happily fought Eevee over a peach-flavored Pokéblock and called it a meal. Guests, though, deserved better hospitality than that.
Cynthia glanced around the room. Her own Pokémon sat contentedly chewing through Pokéblock without complaint.
"Thank you for the trouble," she said, nodding.
"Card or cash?"
"...Hm?"
"Kidding."
Luke muttered under his breath, "Not that I'd actually turn down payment if you insisted."
______________________________
Cynthia's Glaceon stood gracefully by the window. Haunter drifted over cheerfully to say hello and got hit with a look cold enough to send it slinking right back where it came from.
Eevee watched the whole exchange from a distance, oddly hesitant at the sight of Glaceon.
She's beautiful.
The thought landed with an unexpected weight. Back in the mountains none of this had ever mattered to Eevee. But ever since meeting Luke and seeing more of the world outside her old territory something had shifted. Now there was a quiet, persistent fear underneath everything. Fear of waking up one day and Luke being gone. Fear of him catching another Eevee someday.
None of it made logical sense. But once you'd let yourself be tamed there was always a risk that came with it.
Eevee bared her teeth and glared at Glaceon across the room. "Vee!"
Glaceon turned gracefully, its deep icy-blue eyes settling on the visibly nervous Eevee without a word. Then, step by unhurried step, it crossed the room until Eevee found herself backed into a corner.
"Cloth... Vee?"
Glaceon extended its cool tongue and gave Eevee's fur a gentle, affectionate stroke, smiling softly the whole time.
"Vee!"
Eevee's whole face flushed red as if she'd just been hit with Astonish, and she bolted straight into the next room without another sound.
______________________________
Back in the living room the banner still hung on the wall.
[A term of high praise for a doctor who has made significant contributions to the field of women's health...]
Cynthia read the large text on the banner, glanced down at the wiki explanation, and nodded with the polite confusion of someone who understood roughly half of what she'd just read.
"Alright, dinner's ready!" Luke called out, pulling off his apron.
Garchomp, Lucario, Haunter and the rest of the assembled Pokémon immediately swarmed toward him, eyes locked with fierce anticipation.
"Not talking to you guys," Luke said, laughing sheepishly. "Pokéblock's on the menu tonight too, plenty to go around."
The Pokémon nodded, satisfied, and settled back down.
"Haunter, how did you even blend into this crowd so seamlessly?!"
"Kojie? Σ(っ°Д°;)っ" — wait, I was just hoping for extra portions, and you noticed already?
Cynthia wandered over from the living room, arms crossed, genuinely curious. "What does 'women's health expert' mean, exactly?"
Luke nearly choked on the water he'd just sipped. Mindful of the impression he wanted to leave, he forced the cough down and managed, "W-what's that?"
"That banner. It seems important to you."
"Oh, I've done a lot of research into massage therapy," Luke said, entirely without hesitation. "Especially for women."
Cynthia blinked, caught off guard. "I'd always assumed only female practitioners handled that kind of work."
"This is authentic Hong Kong-style acupressure," Luke said, lying through his teeth. "Passed down exclusively through male practitioners. Very traditional."
"Oh." Cynthia nodded slowly. Something about it felt slightly off, though nothing she could actually point to as wrong.
Should I ask him for a massage sometime, then?
She decided against it. Guests probably shouldn't impose that much on their host.
Looking down at the fragrant buckwheat noodles now on the table Cynthia blinked again. "You made this too?"
"What else would it be?"
"You seem to know how to do everything."
"Most of this I picked up from my uncle, out in Alola."
Proper tempura soba required a precise ratio of water and mirin, seasoned with soy sauce and built on a base of bonito flakes and kelp. Golden shrimp tempura, battered and fried until crisp, finished with a scatter of chopped green onion. The broth's aroma alone was enough to draw people in and the crispy shrimp made resistance nearly impossible.
Even Cynthia pressed her lips together slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. That actually looks incredible.
Luke crossed his arms and checked the readout floating in his vision, nodding to himself. Good, the cooking skill leveled up again. Shouldn't be a disaster tonight.
[Cooking Lv3: Improves overall culinary skill including knife technique, ingredient selection, and heat control. (One step away from Elite Ten territory.)]
Garchomp and Lucario flanked the table on either side, eyes locked on the noodles, swallowing hard in unison.
Cynthia sat down gracefully, pressed her hands together, and said with quiet reverence, "I'll begin."
Compared to a heavier ramen broth soba required a cleaner, clearer stock, and getting real depth of flavor into that clarity took genuine skill. Cynthia tucked her hair back with one hand and brought the spoon carefully to her lips for a small sip.
Her eyes narrowed instantly, the corners of her mouth lifting without permission.
That taste. Familiar somehow. Better than what my grandmother used to make, honestly.
Crack.
The golden, crispy shrimp delivered an immediate hit of satisfaction the moment it hit her tongue, its crunch playing perfectly against the delicate broth. No exaggeration — this genuinely sat at star-chef level.
"It's delicious," Cynthia said, smiling.
Luke, meanwhile, kept one eye on Haunter — drooling openly beside him — while focusing the rest of his attention on demolishing his own bowl.
A quiet wave of pride hit him. My noodles turned out this good. Genuinely impressive, even by my own standards.