After the whirlwind of the morning contest, the girls slipped out into the sunny Castelia streets in search of lunch. The hustle of the city buzzed around them, but for once, Mira felt light and relaxed—ribbon secured to her Contest Pass and the rush of victory still humming in her chest.
They meandered past a few tempting eateries before settling on a cozy-looking café nestled between a boutique and a bookstore. A wooden sign near the entrance caught Mira's eye: "Small to Medium Pokémon Welcome – Limit 2 per Trainer unless cleared with staff." Eliza raised an eyebrow at it, and Mira gave a small smile, already knowing what that would mean for her team.
"Alright, team, café rules. Only two of you can be out at a time unless we ask permission, and I don't want to cause trouble. Snivy, you deserve a nap, so rest in your ball for now. Scout and Sewaddle, I promise I'll bring you out again soon."
With understanding looks, the three Pokémon returned to their Poké Balls, and Mira kept Petilil out for company. She clipped the others back to her belt and gave Petilil a gentle pat as the Grass-type snuggled comfortably against her.
They stepped inside and were greeted by a friendly hostess who guided them to a shaded table near the edge of the patio, overlooking the sparkling harbor. Mira quickly mentioned that Petilil and Glameow were with them, and the hostess nodded, bringing out two small bowls alongside their drinks—one with fresh berries for Petilil, and another with a neatly arranged fish-and-cream snack for Glameow.
After placing their orders—an oran-berry soda for Mira, a lemonade for Eliza, and a shared fruit plate—they sank into their chairs with sighs of contentment.
Mira stirred her drink with a straw, still wearing a dazed but happy smile. Eliza leaned back in her seat, sipping her lemonade. "Still riding the high?"
Mira nodded. "Yeah. It doesn't feel real yet. But I'm glad we took a break—I think Snivy's starting to get a little smug."
Eliza laughed. "She earned it."
Mira tilted her head, watching Glameow lounge elegantly beneath the table. "Hey, is Glameow your only Pokémon?"
Eliza blinked, then smiled softly. "For now, yeah. I started later than most, and I didn't score high enough on the trainer exam to get a regional starter like you did. But I still passed, and my mom gave me Glameow—not just any Glameow, but the daughter of her old Purugly. Her Purugly's been a companion Pokémon in our family for years—not trained for battles, just a part of the household. I do want to grow my team eventually. I've just been... waiting to find the right ones."
"Right ones?" Mira asked, curious. She understood what Eliza meant—she had felt it with Petilil the moment they met, and bonding with Snivy and Scout had happened naturally. Hopefully, her newest partner Sewaddle would be the same in time.
"Yeah. I don't want to catch Pokémon just to fill a team. I want each of them to fit—personality, goals, everything. Glameow's a diva, sure, but she's also sharp and clever. She's got this dream—she wants to be known as the cleverest Pokémon out there, and she says she won't rest until I'm the best Coordinator on the circuit. She makes me better."
Mira nodded slowly. "That makes sense. I think I feel the same way."
They ate in comfortable quiet for a few minutes, watching Wingull glide over the harbor.
"Are you nervous about your round?" Mira finally asked.
Eliza exhaled. "A little. But not like I was before. Watching you and Snivy perform—seeing how much fun you were both having—it reminded me why I wanted to do this. It's not about being perfect, it's about showing who we are."
Mira smiled. "Then you've already won."
They clinked their drinks together, and Mira checked her C-Gear. "It's almost 12:40. We should probably head back."
Eliza stood and stretched. "Let's go show them what a real performance looks like."
By 12:50, the girls had returned to the Castelia Contest Hall. This time, they followed signs leading them to a different wing of the building, one specifically set up for the Clever Appeal – Normal Rank division. Though the décor and layout were identical to the Cool Appeal hall, the energy in the air was different: quieter, more calculated, as Coordinators rehearsed carefully timed gestures or whispered through complex strategies with their Pokémon.
Mira followed Eliza into the waiting room designated for the Clever Appeal participants. It had the same layout as the one Mira had used earlier, with sleek benches, contest monitors displaying upcoming performers, and assistants guiding contestants toward prep stations.
Rather than hover over her friend, Mira gave Eliza and Glameow their space. She found a seat in the corner, far enough to let Eliza focus, but close enough that she could watch and support.
Eliza knelt beside Glameow, brushing over her sleek fur and whispering last-minute encouragement. The feline Pokémon preened with poise, then turned her eyes toward the stage entrance with a flash of ambition.
Mira smiled to herself. Glameow was just like Snivy in that way—poised, proud, and more than ready to prove herself. And Eliza, for all her nerves, looked completely in sync with her partner.
Soon, an assistant stepped forward and called Eliza's name. Eliza gave Mira a wink, and Glameow sashayed confidently toward the curtain.
Mira sat up straighter, hands clasped in her lap.
"You've got this," she whispered.
From a screen in the waiting room, Mira watched as the lights shifted and the announcer's voice rang out.
"Up next in the Clever Appeal – Normal Rank category, please welcome Eliza Hawthorn and her Glameow!"
A gentle hum of anticipation moved through the crowd.
Glameow stepped onto the stage alone, her tail arched high and movements slow, deliberate. The lights bathed her in soft lavender and silver hues as a quiet, twinkling melody began to play. She gave the audience a single blink—calculated, elegant—then turned in place with a delicate spiral of her tail.
"Eliza's Glameow is known for her refined execution and high-level coordination," Nurse Joy noted quietly.
Glameow opened with Fake Out, not to startle, but to draw attention—a crisp movement that gave a dramatic pause to the music. She froze mid-step, every muscle still, ears twitching just slightly. The audience leaned in.
Then, with a sudden shift in posture, she activated Assist. Glameow's body shimmered with borrowed energy, and for a heartbeat, the crowd was unsure what would emerge. A faint glow spread around her paws, and she smoothly transitioned into Captivate—making it appear as if she had "chosen" the move herself. Her eyes gleamed with a hypnotic sparkle, perfectly timed to the rising note of the background music.
The illusion of intentional choice added depth to her already clever routine. "Very clever use of psychological rhythm and planning," the Fan Club judge whispered.
For the final flourish, Glameow leapt high and used Aerial Ace, slicing through a series of floating, shimmering ribbons suspended from the rafters—props placed earlier for visual appeal. She didn't just cut through them—she created an arc of falling streamers that cascaded like falling petals. She landed with a dainty step, tail curled perfectly above her head.
The audience applauded, not with wild cheers, but with an almost respectful hush, like they'd just witnessed a piece of living art—all within the space of a single, brilliant minute.
Moments later, the scores appeared on the screen in the waiting room:
Contest Official: ★★★★☆ (4/5)
Nurse Joy: ★★★★★ (5/5)
Fan Club Representative: ★★★★☆ (4/5)
Total: 14/15
Mira let out a soft gasp. "She nailed it."
From her side of the stage, Eliza gave a small, grateful bow to the judges as Glameow dipped her head with elegance, clearly satisfied with the audience's reaction.