"Have you seen Green?"
When Logan arrived at Green's designated lounge, he didn't find her there. His brows furrowed, and he immediately grabbed a nearby staff member to ask.
The staffer's face lit up with excitement the moment he realized who was talking to him. His eyes brimmed with admiration as he quickly pointed in a direction.
"I just saw Miss Green running that way!"
"Thanks!"
Logan nodded his thanks and rushed forward in the direction indicated. A few strides later, he realized where he had ended up—outside a restroom.
But this wasn't a public restroom. It was a private one reserved for tournament competitors, without the usual division of male or female. Logan pressed the handle and immediately noticed it was locked. From inside, faint sobbing sounds leaked through.
Logan didn't bother knocking. He knew Green would never open the door for him in this state. And when it came to girls crying, he wasn't completely inexperienced. Without hesitation, he gripped the handle with his psychic power, twisting it sharply until the lock broke.
Pushing the door open, he stepped into the spacious restroom. The tournament's facilities were luxurious, not a hint of foul odor in the air. His eyes quickly fell on a figure huddled in the corner—Green, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, her pretty face buried against them, shoulders trembling as she sobbed.
Seeing her like this, Logan finally relaxed a little. Crying was good. If she had just been sitting there, silent and hollow-eyed, that would have been far worse.
Logan knew well—Green was deeply insecure.
Her cheerful, mischievous façade hid a fragile, self-conscious heart. Childhood trauma had carved that into her. Like children bullied after losing their parents, she had built walls around herself. It was why she always avoided expensive clothing despite her beauty—because deep down, she didn't think she deserved it. She saw herself as a stray child, unworthy of the life of luxury others had.
Even though she was breathtakingly beautiful. Even though she was strong enough to earn anyone's respect.
Logan could even guess: Green wasn't truly angry that he had defeated her by exploiting her weakness. As a Trainer, she understood that was fair—battling was all about finding openings. What crushed her pride wasn't the loss itself, but the fact that she had cried. And not just anywhere—before more than 200,000 spectators in the stadium, and countless millions watching on television.
For someone as proud as Green, that was unbearable.
She wasn't angry at Logan. She was angry at herself—for being weak.
Logan walked over quietly, leaned against the wall, listening to her stifled sobs. After hesitating for a moment, he reached out and gently stroked her light brown hair. His voice was low, almost tender.
"…Green."
"Don't bother with me. Just let me cry for a while…"
She slapped his hand away sharply.
Logan didn't mind. He knew better than to get angry over a girl's stubbornness in such a moment. He might be a little blunt at times, but he wasn't so clueless as to respond with macho pride. That kind of man would stay single forever.
Instead, he crouched down and simply wrapped his arms around her, pulling her slender, trembling body into his chest.
Green struggled fiercely. But against Logan's solid build, honed over the past year, she stood no chance. She might be stubborn—but she was still just a girl.
"Let go of me!!"
"No."
Logan shook his head firmly. In moments like this, sometimes what mattered most was sheer persistence. He held her tightly, one hand stroking the back of her head gently, like soothing a frightened kitten.
Gradually, Green's struggles weakened. She finally stopped resisting, instead clutching tightly at Logan's shirt with both hands, burying her face against his chest. Though her body trembled and her sobs continued, the tears themselves had already run dry.
She was, after all, a strong girl. She wouldn't let herself fall apart so easily.
Just then, Logan noticed a Pokédex lying beside her. It was open, a message displayed across the screen.
His sharp eyes scanned it. He wasn't superhuman, but at this close distance he could make out the words.
"Silver? Silver… don't tell me you've got yourself a secret boyfriend?"
Logan's tone was teasing, deliberately light, because he'd already noticed the word at the end of the message—"Big Sister Green."
Green didn't lash out with sharp words as many girls might in such a vulnerable moment. She simply twitched her shoulders and murmured against his chest, her voice muffled:
"…Silver is my younger brother. Like me, he was taken away as a child. We escaped together and survived by relying on each other…"
"Hah. So that brat's the one who wants to 'teach me a lesson'?"
Logan chuckled as he read the message. Silver's words were filled with both worry and determination, declaring that he would avenge his sister.
"Don't you dare bully Silver!"
"Bully him? He's the one threatening me! …Hah, you really care about him, huh? I can't wait to meet this little brother. I'll show him how to properly speak with respect to his elders."
Logan's voice was laced with mock jealousy and mischief. He loved teasing kids most of all.
"Pfft—"
Green couldn't help but laugh through her tears at his tone. And hearing that subtle note of jealousy in his voice brought a strange, secret warmth to her heart.
She gently pushed away from his embrace, finally lifting her head. Her fox-like eyes were swollen from crying, her tear-streaked face so delicate and pitiful that she looked like a flower battered by rain.
Quickly, she wiped her cheeks, turning her head aside in embarrassment.
"…Don't look at me. I must look awful. My makeup's all ruined, isn't it?"
Logan just smiled, saying nothing. Instead, he pulled out a photograph and handed it to her.
"This is…"
Green's eyes fell on the picture—and her body froze.
It was an old, blurry photograph, edges yellowed with age. The image showed a bird-like Pokémon soaring through the clouds, clutching a small girl in its talons.
Her pupils shrank. Of course she recognized it. That girl was her—when she had been taken at the age of five.
"This was taken eleven years ago in Pallet Town. A villager happened to snap it, though the photo came out blurred in the rush. He handed it to Professor Oak, hoping the professor could identify the Pokémon and help rescue the child."
"…But the photo was too unclear, and the Pokémon too distant in the clouds. Even Oak couldn't identify it. They organized a search around the town, but it ended in failure."
Logan looked into her tear-filled eyes and continued softly:
"After the Saffron incident, I became close with many of the Pallet Town villagers. They told me the story. When your parents had no news after a year, they finally left Pallet Town. They said they would spend the rest of their lives searching for their missing daughter."
His hand cupped Green's pale, delicate face as his voice dropped into a gentler register.
"…Even if the Indigo League didn't go perfectly, the appearance of the Legendary Birds—and your reaction—will spread like wildfire through the media. Your face, your name, will be broadcast across the world. If your parents are still alive, no matter how many years have passed, I believe they will recognize their daughter."
Green stared at him blankly, eyes wide with emotion. Slowly, she lifted his hand to her lips, clutching it tightly, before breaking down into quiet sobs once more.