"Hey, don't just stay quiet!"
Green pouted, clearly unhappy. Talking to herself wasn't her style.
"What exactly do you want me to say? I've been asking you questions this whole time—why are you suddenly the one interrogating me?"
"Because boys are supposed to treat girls better, right? Ladies first~~ Now, answer me honestly: what's the deal between you and Erika?"
Green pressed on relentlessly, her tone teasing and spoiled. Her soft, playful voice carried the charm of a southern maiden—sweet enough to make one's heart tremble. Even when she acted stubborn, it was hard to stay mad at her.
"That's none of your business. Private matter!" Logan shot back firmly.
"Bleh~~"
Green made a face, pulling down her eyelid and sticking out her tongue. "You're so boring. But from the way you reacted, I already know you do have something going on with her."
"You think you know me that well?" Logan asked with a helpless smile.
"Of course I do! I'm pretty good at reading people. You're the type who—if there's no relationship—you'd admit it outright or even joke about it. But if there is a relationship? You'd never say it, not even if your life depended on it!"
Green looked smugly confident in her judgment. And though Logan didn't want to admit it, her words left him momentarily speechless. She'd figured him out far too well, considering they hadn't spent that much time together.
"What a shame," Green sighed dramatically, "I found you first… but someone else beat me to the prize."
Her words hovered ambiguously between truth and jest. Logan didn't bother to respond; there was no point in overthinking whatever came out of her mouth.
"Isn't it tiring holding the umbrella like that, Green?"
The girl wasn't tall, barely over one-sixty, while Logan—after nearly nine months in this world—had grown considerably taller and sturdier, past one-seventy. To hold the umbrella above his head, Green had to stretch on tiptoe, her arm straining.
Logan reached out and gently took the Ditto-umbrella from her. Green instantly relaxed with a sigh of relief.
"Well, at least you have some gentlemanly manners. Seriously, what have you been eating? You've shot up like a weed these last few months." She twisted her slender wrist back and forth, trying to get the blood flowing again.
"You, on the other hand, haven't changed a bit. Still the same size as before, huh, Green?"
Logan's gaze flicked downward to her chest, his tone playful.
Her cheeks flushed bright red—whether from his teasing look or his casual intimacy, even she couldn't tell.
"Oh, right," Logan added slyly, "back on the S.S. Anne, I remember how well you controlled your Pokéball sizes. Perfectly matched to your figure. Most people would think you'd simply developed nicely, not that you'd adjusted anything yourself."
Green froze, then huffed. "Talking about a girl's chest in front of her? Is that how you flirt with Erika too?"
Logan laughed loudly. "Hah! So you do care! I knew it—girls always get flustered about their figure."
He was certain Green wasn't carrying any Pokéballs tucked against her chest right now—the difference was obvious. Compared to when they'd first met, she was at least two sizes smaller.
"Anyway, enough nonsense. Why did you really come find me? Since you once saved me, I'll return the favor—whatever you need, I'll help."
After a stretch of banter, Logan brought the topic back to business.
"It's nothing major," Green said lightly. "I've been investigating Team Rocket's plans. But lately, I've hit a dead end. I can't find any new leads. My gut tells me if I follow you, I'll uncover something important. So… here I am!"
Logan studied her carefully. Normally, he'd dismiss her words, but this time his instincts told him she wasn't lying.
"Following me, huh? Fine, suit yourself. I'm headed to Cinnabar Island. If you're serious about sticking with me, then that's where we're going."
"Cinnabar Island? Perfect! I've never been there before." Green's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Do you have a Flying-type Pokémon?" Logan asked, already knowing the answer.
She shook her head awkwardly.
"Figures. I don't have one suited for long-distance flight right now either. But you do have a sea-crossing Pokémon, don't you?"
"Of course!" she grinned, tossing a Pokéball. "Come on out, Blasty!"
The enormous Blastoise emerged with a heavy stomp, towering over three meters tall. Its energy aura radiated strength; Green had clearly trained it well. She might not specialize in direct combat, but she was undoubtedly a capable Trainer.
"That's Professor Oak's Blastoise, isn't it?" Logan noted calmly.
"Stole is such a harsh word," Green said innocently. "I just couldn't bear to leave him all alone in the lab. Everyone else already had partners—Charmander, Bulbasaur—they'd all gone. Poor little Squirtle was left behind with no friends. So I brought him along. That's all."
Her logic was twisted, but not entirely wrong. Back then, Squirtle had been left alone while the others had already departed on their journeys.
"Fair enough. But I didn't expect him to evolve this quickly."
Green smirked. "Hehe, evolving Pokémon is something I excel at."
Her cheerful face suddenly flickered with a faint shadow. Logan caught it instantly—the way she avoided certain memories about evolution hinted at something painful in her past. But he wasn't the type to pry into someone's scars. He acted as though he hadn't noticed.
"Well, with Blastoise, we're all set. Let's get going. Even with nonstop travel, it'll take days to reach Cinnabar Island."
But to his surprise, Green recalled Blastoise instead of riding him into the waves.
"What are you doing?" Logan frowned.
"Don't you know? Dragonair is considered the most comfortable Pokémon for ocean crossings. Yours is big enough to carry two people easily." Green smiled sweetly, hands behind her back.
"Hah. You really are something else…" Logan shook his head with a chuckle. He leapt onto Dragonair's back and reached a hand out to her. "Well then, please come aboard, Miss Green."
Her soft, pale hand slid into his palm. Logan pulled her up effortlessly, her delicate fragrance brushing past his senses. But before he could savor the moment, she leaned close like a curious pup, sniffing him.
"…So that lingering floral scent is from Celadon's Gym Leader, huh?" she teased, eyebrows raised.
Logan's lips pressed into a thin line. He had no intention of letting this conversation wander further.
"Dragonair, let's move!"
With a thunderous cry, Dragonair leapt from the cliffside into the roaring sea. Rain slid off its sleek body like water against glass, its mastery of weather shielding them from the storm as it surged forward.
Meanwhile, high above the Indigo Plateau, a massive firebird soared through the skies. Upon its back, Sabrina activated her communicator, her voice cold as ice.
"Are you ready, Blaine? Traitors must always pay the price."
On the other end, Blaine sneered. "You forget one thing, Sabrina… I am the true master of fire!"
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