There was no denying it anymore. The nickname that had haunted Nessa's online persona—"The Most Beautiful Vase"—was beginning to feel painfully accurate.
She had the looks, the charm, the charisma. But strength? Authority? A gym leader's dignity?
That, it seemed, was slipping further and further from her grasp.
Last year's Galar All-Star Tournament had been a disaster. She lost in the first round. To Milo, the ever-smiling Grass-type gym leader. Of all people. Online forums tore her apart. The only praise she ever saw now was for her appearance.
And if that weren't enough, Chairman Rose had decided to pay her a personal visit.
Dressed in a lavish, custom-tailored suit that could feed a dozen Snorlax for a week, Rose strolled into Hulbury Gym with his ever-present secretary Oleana trailing behind him like a ghost with paperwork. He wasn't carrying battle data or League reports. No, today it was fashion magazines. Five of them. All featuring Nessa in swimsuits, dresses, and poses tailored to melt hearts and annihilate wallets.
"The modeling work seems to be going well," he said with an oily smile, flipping through a glossy spread where Nessa stood in heels and tight jeans.
Nessa stood at attention, unsure whether to thank him or melt into the floor.
"Thank you… Sir."
"But don't you think handling both the gym and a modeling career might be too demanding?" Rose said with mock concern. "Perhaps it's time to step back from battling and focus on what you truly excel at."
He wasn't subtle. Not even a little.
Last year, when she underperformed at the tournament, he told her to double down on training. But now? He wanted her to quit entirely. The implication couldn't be clearer.
She was no longer worth the League's patience.
…
"I'm so pissed off!"
The sweet aroma of cream puffs and strawberry tarts did little to calm Nessa's fury as she slammed both palms onto the tiny café table in Hulbury.
Across from her sat Sonia, calm as ever, sipping milk tea through a straw. Her orange-blonde hair was tied into a playful ponytail. Her black-rimmed glasses gave her a scholarly but mischievous edge.
"He wants to fire me. I know it," Nessa fumed.
"Well, yeah," Sonia replied with brutal honesty. "But it's probably for the best if—wait, wait! I was joking, don't kill me!"
Nessa glared. Sonia coughed and changed the subject.
"There's been a lot of buzz lately. You see this?"
She turned her phone around to show a headline:
*"Stow-on-Side Gym Leader Bea: Undefeated for Two Months Straight!"*
Nessa blinked. "Bea?"
"She's been steamrolling challengers. Out of nowhere, too. Did she catch some legendary or something?"
Nessa suddenly remembered a man.
That absurdly powerful trainer. The one who had knocked out Leon's Charizard with a single punch. The man who had casually declared himself an "ordinary martial artist."
The man who left with Bea two months ago.
She shot up from her chair so fast that her knees knocked the table.
"I'm heading out."
"Eh? Nessa! Wait! You haven't even—oh forget it." Sonia sighed. "You know, if you were half this fired up about dating…"
…
Hours later, Nessa stood at the front desk of the Stow-on-Side Fighting Gym.
The receptionist nearly jumped in surprise. "M-Miss Nessa! Are you here to see Gym Leader Bea?"
"Yes. Is she around?"
"She's in the back training room with Mr. Allen."
Nessa's brow twitched. That name again.
She followed the hallway, footsteps echoing in her ears, until she reached the training room door. She raised her hand to knock.
Then she froze.
"Oh… ah… Master, it hurts. Can you not be so intense…"
Nessa's hand hovered midair.
"It's been two months. Haven't you adapted yet?" came Allen's voice, laced with disappointment.
"My injuries from before haven't healed… I'm still sore… Master, you promised it'd be gentler today…"
"Didn't you say you weren't afraid of the pain before?"
"Uhh… then… please continue…"
Nessa's jaw dropped.
WHAT?!
With the fury of a G-Max Whirlpool, she slammed the door open and shouted, "WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU TWO DOING, YOU SHAMELESS MASTER AND DISCIPLE?!"
Inside the room, she found Bea standing upright in a tank top and sweatpants, blindfolded with a training ribbon. Around her, her Pokémon were mid-drill, sweating buckets. Allen stood calmly, a wooden pointer in one hand.
Both turned, blinking at the intrusion.
Bea removed her blindfold. "Nessa?"
"Oh, um… hi. Long time no see." Nessa wanted to teleport into a hole.
Allen looked mildly amused. "Did you misunderstand something?"
Nessa's face turned scarlet. "W-Well, you can't blame me! The things you were saying—!"
"You were projecting," Allen said flatly.
Nessa gaped at him. "What?!"
"Your thoughts were impure," he added, gesturing toward the Pokémon around the room. "This is a public training session."
"Ughhh…" Nessa groaned into her hands.
Allen turned back to Bea and the Pokémon. "Alright. Take an hour lunch break."
Plop! Bea's Machamp and Grapploct collapsed onto the ground. Even Hawlucha dropped to its knees, gasping.
"What kind of training is this?" Nessa muttered as she stepped closer. Then she froze.
Bea's arms, though toned, were covered in bruises. Some old. Some fresh. Her knuckles were scraped raw. Whip marks laced her calves like angry red vines.
Allen reached into his pouch and pulled out a small green bean.
"Eat this."
Bea nodded, popping the bean into her mouth.
Within seconds, color returned to her skin. The bruises faded, and the swelling receded.
Nessa's eyes widened. "What… what was that?"
"Custom supplement," Allen said simply. "A blend of healing berries and high-grade vitamins. Perfect for endurance recovery."
"Are you saying you beat the pain into her, just to show off your cooking skills?"
"No," Bea replied, smiling despite her sore muscles. "He's helping me find my limits. Then push past them."