The sun hung high over the sprawling tropolis of Heartho City, turning the white-stoned buildings into pillars of light. The air was thick—not with the humidity of the surrounding forests, but with a palpable, electric tension. It was the scent of hairspray, glitter, and the nervous sweat of a hundred trainers.
"Breloom, Spore! Higher!" "Gloom, Razor Leaf! Slice through the center!" "Dratini, just like that, don't let the rhythm drop!"
The sounds of commands echoed across the temporary training plaza outside the Heartho Contest Hall. It was a chaotic symphony. Frisbees were being shattered in mid-air by razor-sharp leaves; balloons were being popped by strategic bubbles; and hoops of fire were being jumped through by Pokémon of every shape and size.
Everywhere I looked, Coordinators were frantically putting the finishing touches on their routines. So had been here for weeks, camping out just to secure a spot on the practice field. Now I understood why, seven days ago, I couldn't find a single square inch of grass to train on. Between the Gym challengers and the wave of Contestants, Heartho was currently the most crowded city in Sinnoh.
"Wow... are there really this many people participating?" I muttered, leaning against a lamp post while holding a very excited Togepi in my arms.
I scanned the dozens of groups. In so ways, a Pokémon Contest was far more brutal than a Gym Match. If you lose to Fantina or Maylene, you just go back to the drawing board, train for a week, and try again. The Gym Leader isn't going anywhere.
But a Contest? It was a at grinder. Dozens, sotis hundreds, of hopefuls entered, but only one walked away with the Heartho Ribbon. You needed five of those ribbons to even set foot in the Grand Festival. The stakes were sky-high, yet as I watched a trainer unsuccessfully try to get his Bibarel to balance on a beach ball, I couldn't help but feel a bit of a "disconnect."
"I have to say, Togepi, the logistics are a nightmare," I whispered. "But looking around... 70 to 90 percent of these people have no idea what they're doing."
Most of the "performances" in the plaza were basic circus tricks. Catching a Frisbee is fine for a park, but the judges wanted to see the soul of the Pokémon reflected in its moves. I hadn't seen a single Pokémon with Official-level strength yet. Most of the real threats were likely hiding in private rooms or secluded spots, just like we had been. After all, if you're still practicing the basics an hour before the curtain rises, you've already lost.
Ding-dong~
A chi rang out through the speakers, silencing the plaza. "The Heartho City Pokémon Contest is about to begin! All registered Coordinators, please proceed imdiately to the backstage preparation area."
The chaos of the plaza shifted instantly. The frantic training stopped as people scrambled to pack their bags and groom their partners. Togepi looked up at , his eyes wide. "Pri-pri! (It's ti!)"
"Let's go, buddy," I said, adjusting my own jacket. "Ti to show them that a hotel room rehearsal is better than a park circus."
The interior of the Heartho Contest Hall was a marvel of architecture. The dod roof was designed to slide open, allowing the natural light to dance off the stage. I stood in the wings of the backstage area, feeling the hum of the crowd through the floorboards.
The lights dimd, and a spot-lit woman with a microphone ascended to the center of the stage. Her voice was bright, energetic, and carried that classic "showbiz" flair.
"When people and Pokémon et, it brings happiness~!" she announced, her arms open wide. "The exciting, the charming, the one-and-only... Pokémon Contest! I am so sorry to have kept you all waiting!"
The crowd roared.
"We are gathered here in Heartho City, the place where hearts connect! Our champion today will walk away with the prestigious Heartho Ribbon!" She held up a glittering purple ribbon, its silk catching the light. "And rember, five of these will earn you a ticket to the Grand Festival, where only the Top Coordinator will reign supre!"
The host gestured toward a long table at the foot of the stage. "Now, please welco our esteed panel of judges! First, the Director of the Pokémon Contest Committee—Mr. Contesta!"
"Hello, everyone," said the man in the immaculate red suit. He adjusted his glasses with a stern but expectant look. "I am highly anticipating the flawless cooperative performances between Pokémon and their partners. Precision is key!"
"Next, the President of the Pokémon Fan Club—Mr. Sukizo!"
A small, round man with a permanent smile leaned into his microphone. "Heartho City... I like it! It's very remarkable!"
"And of course, the heart of our local dical community—Nurse Joy of the Heartho Pokémon Center!"
The pink-haired nurse waved gracefully. "Such charming and adorable Pokémon! I wonder what wonderful stories they will tell us today. I look forward to eting every one of them!"
I peered through the curtain at Nurse Joy. Even with my Aura training, which was still in its infancy, I couldn't detect a single physical difference between her and the Nurse Joy from Jubilife or Oreburgh. It was one of the world's great mysteries. Truly, as the saying goes: Those with the sa face and squinting eyes are a force of nature.
"And finally," the host's voice climbed an octave, "a very special guest for today's tournant! She is the 'Enchanting Soul Dancer,' the Leader of our own Heartho Gym, and a Top Coordinator herself... the one and only, Lady Fantina!"
The applause was deafening. Fantina glided to her seat at the end of the table, her purple gown shimring like a nebula.
"Oh~ Bonjour, everyone! I am Fantina~" she called out, waving to the fans. "Welco to this dazzling stage! As you know, I love both the dance and the battle. Most of the ti I am awake, I am doing one or the other! Whether it is a performance or a fight, I am ve~~ry happy! I hope everyone who steps onto this stage today can feel that sa joy. Dance for us! Bring happiness to the world, just like my Mismagius!"
Fantina caught my eye for a split second from backstage and gave a tiny, subtle wink. I felt a jolt of energy. She was expecting a show.
"I am your host, Marian! Please be kind to !" the announcer added. "We begin with the Appeals Round—the Performance Stage! This is where a single Pokémon demonstrates its beauty, cleverness, and power through moves. Let the first contestant take the stage!"
The music swelled—a rhythmic, upbeat tempo that got the heart racing. The heavy velvet curtains swept aside, and the first Coordinator ran out, tossing a Poké Ball into the air.
The Heartho Contest had officially begun.
"Togepi," I whispered, feeling the little egg tremble slightly—not with fear, but with anticipation. "Our turn is coming. Rember the rhythm. Rember the smile. We're going to make Fantina glad she judged this."
Togepi balled his tiny hands into fists and let out a determined, "Pri-pri-pri!"
I looked at the stage, where a shower of sparks from a Cyndaquil's Fla Wheel was already painting the air. The competition was fierce, the lights were blinding, and the world was watching. It was ti for the "Mommy" of the team to show the world that we didn't just win badges—we won hearts.
The curtain is up! The Heartho Contest has started with a bang, and Fantina is watching from the judge's seat with high expectations. Julian and Togepi have spent a week rehearsing in secret—now it's ti to see if their "adorable" routine can stand up to the veterans.
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