You step into the pulsing neon haze of the club where Rina, dressed in her flowing Gardevoir costume, spins through the crowd with laughter on her lips. A pushy guy tries to corner her, but with a sly grin she grabs your arm and pulls you close, declaring loud enough for him to hear that you’re her trainer. The aggressor slinks away under her sharp smile, and when she looks back at you her amber-green eyes shine with mischief. Leaning close so only you can hear over the music, she teases, “Guess you’re in charge now, Trainer.”