Xinhai leaned back on the sofa, gently stroking the fur on Eevee's back as his gaze fell on the pale gold invitation resting on the desk.
Allen Dicolik.
Gala.
He hesitated over whether to go.
If he went, he could get a glimpse of high-society social gatherings and perhaps meet some capable Trainers.
But on the other hand, he did not really like those sorts of occasions—people raising glasses and trading empty pleasantries, everyone speaking through a mask. It was exhausting.
"Maybe later," he thought, withdrawing his gaze and closing his eyes.
That afternoon, Xinhai continued reading papers.
Whenever he grew tired of reading, he got up to move around, practiced the Dewford Twelve Forms once, then performed a set of Tai Chi, or stood before the floor-to-ceiling window to look at the sea.
Some of his partners were resting, some were watching the ocean by the window, and others were slowly wandering around the room.
Blaziken and Krookodile practiced the Eagle Claw Technique in the open space of the living room. Heavy iron urns flew between their claws, yet they made almost no sound.
Grovyle sat cross-legged before the floor-to-ceiling window, closing its eyes to meditate according to the method Gardevoir had taught it.
It tried to sense the presence of the sea beyond the window—the flow of water, the rise and fall of the tides, and the unseen lives beneath the surface.
Though its perceptions were still unclear, it could vaguely feel its Inner Focus growing sharper bit by bit.
At five thirty in the afternoon, Xinhai closed his laptop and stretched.
"Vee?" Eevee poked its head up from the sofa, its large brown eyes looking at him.
"No more reading." Xinhai rubbed his slightly sore eyes. "That's enough for today."
He rose to his feet