Daisy sat primly on the couch, watching the two with a mild but warning gaze. She hadn't made a sound vocally, but the gentle psychic pressure in that throat-clearing ahem was unmistakable: Behave. Machop immediately straightened up, abashed, and Lairon lowered its head in something like an apologetic nod. Hiroshi smothered a laugh. Daisy had long ago established herself as the matriarch of this motley crew, and even the boisterous ones knew better than to get truly out of line under her watch.
While that mini-drama played out, Raichu had been busy making mischief elsewhere. The orange electric mouse had leaped from the couch as soon as it appeared and zeroed in on the open-plan kitchen. "Rai, rai," it whispered to itself, nose twitching. It could smell food. In a blur of tan fur, Raichu scampered up onto the kitchen island and beelined for a decorative wooden bowl that sat on the counter. Sure enough, it was filled with a welcome gift from the hotel: assorted snacks and fruit for the esteemed guest. To Raichu's delight, there was a bag of chocolate-covered biscuits peeking out (an indulgence likely meant for Hiroshi, but Raichu had other ideas). Glancing left and right with a conspiratorial air, Raichu extended a paw and quietly snagged the bag from the bowl. It held the treat behind its back, long lightning-bolt tail swishing as it considered how to open the packaging without alerting anyone. Perhaps a tiny Thunder Shock to zap it open? Just as a spark danced on its cheek sacs, a voice called out:
"Raichu… I see you over there." Hiroshi's tone was singsong, amused but cautionary. He had one eye on the kitchen even as he strolled toward the fridge. The mouse Pokémon froze, paw literally in the cookie jar. Slowly, Raichu turned its head toward its trainer, big ears drooping innocently as it tried to hide the pilfered snack behind its round body. "Chu?" it squeaked, as if to say Who, me? I wasn't doing anything….
Hiroshi raised an eyebrow, fighting back a grin. He crossed his arms in an exaggerated display of authority. "Drop the goodies," he ordered playfully. "Unless you want double training drills later." Raichu considered this, weighing the cookies against the threat. Finally, with an exaggerated sigh, it set the bag back into the bowl—albeit with obvious reluctance. Satisfied, Hiroshi gave it a warm wink. "Good try, though. You almost had it," he teased, and Raichu responded with a cheeky grin, leaping off the counter to trot back toward the living room now that its heist was thwarted. As it passed by Hiroshi, he reached down and gave Raichu an affectionate scratch behind one long ear. The electric-type purred happily; it couldn't stay mad when it earned some attention in exchange.
Not far from the kitchen, Ivysaur had discovered a tall ceramic vase in one corner of the suite, artfully filled with an arrangement of fresh local flowers and greenery. The Grass Pokémon's eyes lit up. "Ivy!" it chirruped, padding over on four stubby legs. The pink petals of a camellia brush inside the vase beckoned irresistibly. Ivysaur gently inserted its broad-nosed snout into the arrangement, taking a deep sniff. A blissful expression crossed its face as the floral aroma tickled its senses. Content, it settled down next to the vase, the bud-like plant on its back quivering slightly as it absorbed the faint rays of dawn beginning to peek through the window. One vine lazily extended from Ivysaur's side, curling around the vase not to tip it, but almost as if hugging it. Trust Ivysaur to find the only greenery in the room and make a friend of it.
On the opposite side, Charmeleon and Wartortle had made a beeline toward the hallway that led to the bathroom. Wartortle's sensitive ears had picked up the faint sound of water—likely the filter of the Jacuzzi tub or maybe the auto-refill mechanism for the suite's humidifier. Either way, the turtle Pokémon toddled eagerly toward the bathroom door, shell bobbing. Charmeleon, not particularly interested in water (in fact, usually avoiding it), followed at a more relaxed pace, mostly sticking its nose into every open doorway out of simple curiosity. As Wartortle pushed the bathroom door open with its paw, a humid waft of scented air greeted them—there were indeed some spa features active, perhaps a small indoor fountain on the vanity or a high-end humidifier making the air dewy. Wartortle's eyes went wide at the sight inside: a sunken whirlpool tub, probably big enough to fit four humans. It was currently empty, but that didn't deter the water-type's imagination. With a thrilled cry of "Tor-tleee!", Wartortle scampered up to the tub's edge and peered inside. It patted around, found a digital panel (blinking in standby), and began pawing at it curiously. Charmeleon poked its head in over Wartortle's shoulder, arms crossed, a dubious expression on its red snout. "Char?" it growled softly, as if to say What's got you so excited? But when Charmeleon saw the tub, it just rolled its eyes and gave a harumph. Water—how boring. Charmeleon instead turned its attention to the fancy electronic toilet nearby, sniffing the unfamiliar contraption and accidentally triggering the motion sensor so the lid opened automatically. The startled fire lizard jumped back, tail-flame flaring in surprise. Wartortle, hearing the whirr of the toilet lid, glanced over and burst into laughter (a series of rapid "Wartortle!" chuckles). Charmeleon grumbled and swatted the air, pretending it wasn't spooked, then decided to leave the bathroom to the water-lover. It brushed past Wartortle with a gentle shove of its claw (a "hmph, have your fun" gesture) and ambled back out toward the main room, drawn by the smell of…was that food cooking?