"Greetings, Champion of Kanto—Mr. Logan."
When Logan extended his hand, Cynthia blinked in mild surprise. Then, her lips curved into a gentle smile as she reached out and clasped his hand with both of hers.
Her fingers were long and elegant, nails trimmed to perfect proportion, polished yet understated. People often said you could tell a woman's beauty and grace just by her hands and ankles. Logan hadn't seen her ankles yet, but from this touch alone, he knew the saying was true.
Her hand felt like smooth, polished jade. Logan let go quickly—just the briefest brush—because this was their first meeting. He couldn't afford to leave the impression of being too forward.
Using that moment, he let his gaze take in Cynthia properly for the first time.
She had a cascade of golden hair that rippled freely down her back, its ends curling into natural waves. Her fringe fell long across her face, covering her left eye completely, leaving only her right—an elegant gray that seemed to pierce straight through you.
Tall. Strikingly tall. Taller even than Sabrina, and her presence carried the kind of commanding elegance that would have fit perfectly on any runway. Unfortunately for curious eyes, her attire was conservative, fitting but reserved, though the narrow cut of her bodice revealed a subtle curve of ivory skin at the neckline—a tempting glimpse of what lay beyond.
But Logan couldn't judge her figure completely. Her clothing was tight, cinched at the waist, the kind of design that could enhance what might not be so generous by nature. To know for certain whether that delicate curve was natural or crafted… well, only a very different kind of test could confirm.
Regardless, she was stunning. Not just in looks, but in presence. The kind of woman who radiated grace and intellect so naturally that beauty became secondary to the aura she carried.
Logan's eyes fell on her hair ornaments—a pair of unusual pieces most might overlook. But Logan noticed. Their shape resembled the horns of a Garchomp.
"Were you looking at these?"
Cynthia touched the ornaments lightly, her lips curving with soft amusement. "They look silly to some, I suppose. But I imagine you can see the meaning. After I won the title of Sinnoh Champion, I had them made. A token of gratitude to the partner who carried me here—my Garchomp."
Her smile never showed teeth, her tone warm and open. It was elegant, yet there was a surprising hint of innocence in it too—something that clashed gently with her otherwise mature aura.
"In that case, I feel a little embarrassed," Logan replied with a faint smirk. "Would my Garchomp be upset, I wonder? Maybe I should have a pair of horns made for myself as well."
"Ahahaha…" Cynthia covered her lips with her long fingers, laughing softly.
"Has anyone told you, Miss Cynthia, how beautiful your smile is? Honestly, when I first saw you, I thought you would be difficult to approach. But you're far warmer than I imagined. I'm impressed."
Logan gestured toward the seats, and Cynthia gracefully took one, while Logan and Daisy Oak sat opposite beside Professor Oak.
As the 'host' here, Logan knew it would be improper to sit directly beside her. Courtesy demanded proper placement.
But before Cynthia could respond, Daisy already pouted slightly, her eyes locked on the woman across the table—the kind of woman that made other women feel small.
Strong. Elegant. Beautiful. Warm. Cynthia seemed to embody every quality that belonged to femininity.
"No one's ever said that to me," Cynthia admitted, adjusting a strand of her hair delicately as she sat.
Her tone was composed, but Logan caught the faint trace of shyness buried beneath.
He understood instantly. In Sinnoh, who would speak to her like this? As Champion, she was surrounded by respect, reverence, even fear. But someone her own age, speaking casually, even playfully? Rare, perhaps nonexistent.
That was the difference between them. Champion to Champion. Logan didn't need to bend with excessive courtesy. Kanto and Johto prided themselves as the pinnacle of Pokémon strength, often dismissing Hoenn and Sinnoh as lesser. There was even an old joke that Kanto had so few legends because its trainers were too strong—they'd driven them all away. Half jest, half truth.
But Logan didn't push further. He'd already seen her character—refined, reserved, even if she tolerated jest. Push too far, and she'd silently mark him down and close her doors forever.
So his smile faded, and his tone shifted—serious, official.
"Then, Champion Cynthia, why have you come to Kanto to find me? Official business—or personal? I'd assume personal, otherwise you would have gone through the League, not through Professor Oak."
Her composure never faltered. Her elegance remained intact as she replied, "This visit is personal. If I have disturbed you or Professor Oak in any way, I must apologize."
"Not at all, Miss Cynthia."
Logan and Professor Oak both waved their hands quickly, exchanging a glance. They couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
How to describe her? She was… unassailable. Whether in casual talk, or official rhetoric, Cynthia handled everything flawlessly. Unshakable.
Logan had intended to steer the conversation, but he abandoned the attempt. Cynthia wasn't like the playful girls he'd outmaneuvered before. Her intellect, her grace, her experience—it was all too much. She was not someone you could take lightly.
Not the sly warmth of Sabrina, but a pure, unyielding gentleness—the kind that left you humbled.
"Truthfully," Cynthia continued after a thoughtful pause, "I came not only to see this land—this birthplace of humankind—but also on behalf of a friend."
"Caitlin?"
Logan guessed instantly.
"Yes. Caitlin. She is still traveling, and due to certain private matters could not come herself. So she asked me to deliver this gift to you."
Her hand drifted to her belt. She drew out a Poké Ball, setting it gently on the table.
"This little one hasn't stopped struggling since being caught. Reminds me of Garchomp when it was young. Dragon-types are always difficult to tame." It's little Deino….
Logan picked up the Poké Ball. "Deino?"
Inside, he could sense it—thrashing, furious. Yet, the moment his hand wrapped around it, the restless Dragon stilled. Silent. Calm.
"Caitlin is thoughtful indeed."
Logan exhaled, touched by the gesture of the noblewoman who had entrusted him with such a rare and precious partner.