Yes, indeed. While his Pokémon explored, Hiroshi had set to work in the kitchen. He'd flung open the double-door refrigerator to assess the promised provisions, and he was not disappointed. "They weren't kidding about stocked ingredients," he murmured, eyes scanning the bounty within. Fresh meats neatly wrapped in butcher paper, an array of vegetables and fruits (including a whole shelf of various berries—perfect), cartons of eggs, packages of rice and noodles, even a selection of sauces and spices. Everything he could possibly need for a hearty meal was at his fingertips. And after months of surviving on field rations and quick grabs of convenience store food, the prospect of cooking a real meal—even a quick one—was positively thrilling.
Hiroshi rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt and set about his task with efficient determination. "Alright, let's do this," he said to himself, tying a spare apron (left hanging on a pantry hook) around his waist. He began plucking items from the fridge and cupboards, moving with sure-footed grace around the kitchen. In no time, he had several things going at once: a frying pan sizzled on the stovetop, a pot of water came to boil, and a cutting board was piled with sliced fruits and vegetables.
As he worked, some of the Pokémon started to gravitate toward the mouthwatering aromas wafting through the suite. Machop's stomach gave an audible gurgle after its exertion with the weights, and it bounded over to the kitchen area, peeking up over the island counter with excitement. Charmeleon, drawn from the bathroom, sauntered in more casually, nostrils flaring at the scent of searing meat. It licked its fanged lips unconsciously. Ivysaur lifted its head from beside the vase, the tendrils on its back twitching as the smell of roasting vegetables reached it; with a happy little rumble, it trotted over as well, sitting itself down by the kitchen entrance, nose in the air.
Hiroshi deftly flipped a pair of salmon fillets in the pan, their skin crackling to a perfect golden-brown. In another pan, thin slices of beef sizzled in garlic—he'd found Wagyu strips in the fridge (nothing but the best, apparently). He tossed a pinch of salt and some Pokémon-safe seasoning over them. On the counter, a large salad bowl sat filled with a colorful mix of leafy greens and chopped berries, lightly tossed in a mild dressing – a refreshing dish for the more delicate palates on the team. Next to that, he had arranged a tray of neatly chopped sweet berries drizzled with honey and yogurt, almost like a parfait without the glass, for the sweet-tooth duo. Knowing Lairon's needs, Hiroshi also pulled out a container of specialized mineral kibble (the hotel had even stocked Pokémon food, bless them). He poured a generous heap of the iron-enriched pellets into a metal mixing bowl he'd found; it wasn't exactly a gourmet dish, but Lairon would prefer those crunchy minerals to anything he could cook.
As he stirred a bubbling pot of oatmeal (into which he was mixing oran berries and nuts for a hearty side dish for the others), Hiroshi felt a gentle tug at his pant leg. He glanced down to see Akemi the Kirlia looking up at him with bright eyes, her hands clasped in front of her pleadingly. "Kirliii~" she chimed, standing on her tiptoes to peer at the sweet berry tray on the counter. Being a Psychic/Fairy-type, Kirlia had a well-known penchant for confections and fruits.
Hiroshi chuckled and reached over to ruffle the little Pokémon's green bowl-cut hair. "Don't worry, Akemi, I haven't forgotten you," he said kindly. With a quick flourish, he took a small porcelain saucer and plated a few of the honeyed berries on it, adding a dollop of whipped cream from a tub he'd discovered in the fridge. He handed the treat down to Kirlia. "Here, a preview. But pace yourself, okay? Breakfast is coming in just a minute."
Akemi beamed and gave an excited twirl (almost spilling a berry in the process). She took the saucer in both tiny hands and pirouetted away, nibbling a raspberry happily as she went. The Kirlia settled herself on the sofa armrest near Daisy, kicking her little legs contentedly. Daisy glanced at the saucer and shook her head with a fond smile; she telepathically reminded Akemi not to spoil her appetite, earning a good-natured giggle from the younger Psychic-type.
By now, other Pokémon had gathered around the open kitchen, noses twitching and eyes wide. Machop was practically bouncing on the balls of its feet, trying to peek over the counter to see if the meat was done. Charmeleon leaned coolly against the wall, but its constant tail swish betrayed its impatience. Wartortle emerged from the hallway as well, drawn by the scent of food (and perhaps realizing the tub would have to wait); it trotted over, still dampness clinging to its turtle-shell from the humid bathroom, and licked its lips at the smell of grilled fish. Dragonair had coiled its long body near the dining table, its elegant head raised inquisitively as it detected the aroma of fresh salmon—Dragonair loved a good fish meal. Alakazam had floated nearer as well, though he hung back with his arms folded, hovering just at the edge of the kitchen—aloof, but definitely interested. Even Lairon had clanked over, excited by the general anticipation of feeding time, and settled next to Ivysaur, its armored tail thumping the floor thud…thud… with eagerness.
Hiroshi found himself surrounded by a semi-circle of expectant eyes and salivating snouts.. "Alright, alright, patience!" he scolded playfully as he juggled pans and plates. "I've only got two hands here. Daisy, mind giving me a little help?"
At his request, Daisy inclined her head gracefully from her place on the couch. Without needing another word, the Gardevoir's eyes glowed a soft blue and several objects in the kitchen glowed in response—knives, spatulas, bowls lifting as if guided by invisible strings. With careful precision (and clearly mindful of not startling her teammates), Daisy used her telekinesis to assist: the cutting board slid aside as soon as Hiroshi finished chopping; the knob on the oven turned off exactly when the pastries warming inside were ready; a stack of plates floated out from a cabinet and landed gently on the counter, ready for serving.
"Thanks, sous-chef," Hiroshi quipped over his shoulder. He felt a pulse of gentle affirmation from Daisy's mind to his—she was happy to help.
In short order, Hiroshi began plating up the impromptu feast. He worked swiftly, arranging each dish with care because he knew how each Pokémon liked their food. For Daisy and Milotic (who he could see watching from the entryway, her long body half in the hall eagerly awaiting a call), he prepared the delicate salmon fillets, placing them on a bed of lightly steamed vegetables with just a pinch of salt. The flavor was mild and refined, just how those two liked it. For Charmeleon and Machop, he heaped plates with the garlic-sauteed beef slices and a mound of protein-rich scrambled eggs on the side. "Extra protein for the heavy hitters," he announced as he set those plates down on the island. Machop flexed in excitement and Charmeleon actually let out a pleased growl, flames flickering at the tip of its tail more brightly.
For Wartortle and Dragonair, Hiroshi split the difference: each got a salmon fillet as well (both being fond of fish), but he drizzled Wartortle's with a bit of soy and citrus for a zesty kick and gave Dragonair an extra portion of salad to appease its more dragon-like taste for fruits and herbs. Ivysaur's plate was a colorful salad bowl topped with assorted berries and a side of the berry-nut oatmeal (Ivysaur loved sweet fruits and veggies, and Hiroshi knew it wasn't keen on meat). The Grass-type waddled up happily as he set the salad on the floor for it, immediately nibbling at the greens with a content "Saurrr."
Akemi's and Swablu's treats were ready too: he presented the little berry parfaits he'd assembled, plus a couple of flaky croissants he'd found in the pantry and warmed in the oven. He placed Kirlia's portion on the coffee table where she and Daisy sat; Kirlia clapped and practically sparkled with joy at the pastries and fruit. Swablu fluttered off the bed at the smell of those croissants and zoomed back into the living room, perching right on the coffee table's edge. The fluffy bird pecked curiously at a blueberry on its plate, then chirruped in delight and began gobbling its sweet breakfast, occasionally wiping its beak on its cottony wing with dainty manners. Akemi giggled and broke off a piece of croissant to feed to Swablu as they shared the desserts, the two smallest Pokémon enjoying their sugary dawn feast together. Daisy watched them with a gentle, indulgent expression, occasionally taking a delicate bite of her own steamed veggies. Refined as ever, Daisy ate slowly, savoring the simple, clean flavors and giving Hiroshi an approving nod from across the room.
Lairon, who had been stomping impatiently (making the silverware rattle) as everyone else got their plates, finally got its turn. Hiroshi knelt down and slid the big metal bowl of mineral kibble right in front of Lairon. "Here you go, big guy. Your favorite: rocks and iron," he teased affectionately, patting the steel-type's sturdy flank. Lairon gave a delighted grunt and immediately shoved its snout into the bowl, crunching the mineral chow with a sound like a garbage disposal chewing gravel. Hiroshi winced playfully. "Geez, Lairon, not so loud… Chew softly, for our neighbors' sake, huh?" Of course, soft chewing was impossible for a creature with jaws like a nutcracker and a taste for literal rocks, but one could hope. Lairon at least tried to lower the volume by slowing down a tad, munching with what might pass for guilty moderation.
Within minutes, the suite was filled with the sounds of a very happy breakfast: munching, slurping, contented growls and chirps. The air smelled of cooked fish and warm bread, giving the sterile luxury of the hotel suite a cozy, homey atmosphere. Hiroshi leaned against the kitchen counter, finally allowing himself a moment to breathe. He watched his Pokémon eat with a fond, almost parental smile.
Machop had plopped itself right on the floor by the island, legs splayed out as it shoveled strips of beef and eggs into its mouth with uncontained zeal. Halfway through, Machop remembered its manners and looked up. "Ma! Machop!" It flexed an arm as if to say this is great fuel! then gave Hiroshi a thumbs-up with a goofy grin, cheeks stuffed. Hiroshi chuckled, "Glad you like it. Slow down or you'll choke." Machop dutifully slowed its chewing, though its eyes sparkled with bliss at the rich protein.
Charmeleon was more restrained, but only just. It sat cross-legged near Machop, poking at the scrambled eggs curiously before scarfing them. The fire lizard's tail flame danced with each bite—Charmeleon's equivalent of a wagging tail. At one point, a stray ember from its tail landed on the rim of its plate, charring the edge. Charmeleon snorted and quickly tamped it out with a claw, glancing up to see if anyone noticed its little accident. Daisy did, giving it a light telekinetic flick on the ear—not painful, just a hey, careful gesture. Charmeleon lowered its head sheepishly and resumed eating with a bit more caution, carefully curling its tail around its feet to avoid further mishaps.
Wartortle devoured its salmon with gusto, gnawing and slurping until not a scrap remained. It licked a bit of sauce off its stubby fingers and sighed contentedly, rubbing its belly. Noticing Dragonair still had a few bites left on its plate (the elegant serpent ate slowly, taking small bites with its tiny fang-like teeth), Wartortle sidled up and gave Dragonair a wide, hopeful grin. "Tor? Wartor!" it begged, pointing to the remaining morsel of fish. Dragonair rolled its big violet eyes good-naturedly and flicked its tail to slide its plate toward Wartortle, conceding the last bite. With a happy yip, Wartortle gobbled the offered piece and nuzzled Dragonair's side in thanks. Dragonair responded by gently coiling the tip of its tail around Wartortle in a brief hug, then slithered away toward the balcony window, seemingly energized by the meal and the approaching sunrise.
Alakazam finished its modest portion of oatmeal and fruit quietly, dabbing its mouth with a floating napkin like a gentleman at high tea. It hovered over to Hiroshi's side then, giving a slight nod of thanks. Hiroshi nodded back, knowing Alakazam was never one for chatter—but the contentment in the psychic Pokémon's eyes was clear.