Pokemon: The Legacy of Dragons

If it had been his past self, Logan thought, the old him who toiled day and night just to scrape by for a meager monthly wage…

To have a girl so stunningly beautiful, so gentle and refined, trying to please him like this—he probably would've grinned himself to sleep from sheer joy.

But now, Logan wasn't that man anymore. He wasn't the exhausted office drone struggling for rent.

Now, he had the means to stand atop the world.

He had new reasons to live, a future worth striving toward—and what he sought had grown far grander than fleeting comfort.

Still, Logan admitted inwardly, if something did truly happen with a girl as graceful as Caitlin, he wouldn't be foolish enough to turn it away.

More importantly, seeing how desperately she yearned to control her psychic power—to finally live a normal life—Logan didn't want to treat it lightly. He decided to teach her seriously.

"Let's go out for a walk. Find somewhere with people around to sit and talk," Logan suggested, rising to his feet.

"I don't really like empty places like this."

Sure, being alone with a beautiful girl had its charms—but in this new world, full of unknown Pokémon and unexplored wonders, Logan found himself craving the vibrant hum of crowds even more.

"Mm-hmm~ I like lively places too," Caitlin replied softly, a gentle smile blooming across her face.

But in her shining eyes, a faint shadow of sadness passed.

In her past, she'd always lived alone in that castle-like home, as if she were a caged songbird—never free to fly.

Loneliness and isolation had become habits, but habits weren't the same as love.

If she could choose, she longed to talk to people, to stand among them—even just to hear the trivial chatter of daily life.

"All right then," Logan said, "let's freshen up, then head to the battle hall. We can watch the other trainers fight."

Caitlin nodded. With a flick of her skirt, she skipped lightly to the sofa, slipping on lacy white ankle socks and sliding delicate feet into crystal heels.

Logan dressed himself as well: a relaxed yet elegant suit jacket and shirt.

When he was ready, Caitlin naturally hooked her arm around his.

Together, arm in arm, they stepped out into the corridor—heading once more toward the grand, golden casino hall they'd visited the day before.

The casino bustled with energy, even in the morning. Nobles and wealthy passengers gathered early to enjoy the day's pleasures.

At the sight of Logan and Caitlin walking in together, heads turned. Conversations hushed, then erupted into curious whispers.

But to onlookers, the pair—a poised, gentlemanly youth and a noble, elegant young lady—looked perfectly harmonious, like a prince and princess stepping out of a fairy tale.

Some whispered gossip floated by: surprise at how cold they'd seemed yesterday, only to appear so close today.

Just then, a girl hurried past. Head lowered, she seemed not to see where she was going and bumped right into Logan, nearly knocking him off balance.

"Hey! Watch where you're running!" Caitlin snapped sharply, her brows knitting in irritation before Logan could say a word.

"Easy now," Logan soothed, patting the pale hand wrapped around his arm. "Stay calm, stay elegant."

Realizing her temper flaring again, Caitlin drew a deep breath. The scowl vanished, replaced by a soft, graceful smile.

"S-sorry… I was in a rush," the girl stammered out an apology.

She glanced up—meeting Logan's gaze for a brief moment. There was something strangely searching, almost scrutinizing, in her eyes.

Without another word, she turned and hurried off.

"…Strange girl," Caitlin murmured under her breath.

Logan frowned slightly. Something about her had felt oddly familiar, yet no matter how he searched his memories, her face remained a stranger's.

"Never mind her," Logan decided. "Let's sit down."

They settled into a velvet sofa, ordering two drinks.

Then Logan began explaining, in careful detail, the way he controlled psychic power: the methods he'd discovered through countless trials.

Though Mewtwo served as an endless source of energy, the actual finesse—the art of wielding that power—was Logan's own.

"…Are you sure this is really okay?" Caitlin whispered, biting her lip.

Slowly, the golden cascade of her hair lifted, strands rising like a peacock's fanned tail under her psychic control.

"No problem at all," Logan reassured her warmly, giving her shoulder a gentle pat.

"With me here, even if your power slips, I'll keep it from spiraling out of control."

"Controlling psychic power takes practice. You must learn to command even the smallest details. Right now, just focus on making your hair float—don't overthink it. Don't let panic creep in. Train your concentration. That's how every psychic truly grows stronger."

Watching her carefully, Logan thought: She's blooming now.

Where once Caitlin had been like a tightly closed flower bud, now she dared to show her brilliance.

And maybe, he reflected, this is who she truly is—the most beautiful version of herself.

Moved by a sudden impulse, Logan stood, stepping closer.

Under her shy gaze, he gently removed the two white rose clips from beside her ears and pinned them instead near the ends of her flowing hair.

"There. Even prettier this way. Come on, Caitlin—lift your hair again."

Logan stepped back, eyeing his handiwork with quiet pride.

"I… I can't seem to do it again…" Caitlin whispered, frowning in concentration.

Earlier embarrassment still lingered in her chest, and the more she tried, the harder it became.

Frustration knotted inside her, tightening until her psychic energy stirred restlessly, threatening to flare.

Before it could boil over, Logan calmly reached out—one finger pressing lightly against her chest.

Her body trembled faintly at the touch, but his expression didn't change; in an instant, he smothered the turbulence in her power.

"I-I'm sorry… I really can't do it perfectly," she stammered, her voice cracking as if on the edge of tears.

Logan shook his head gently.

"You did well, Caitlin. You succeeded just now, didn't you? That's already a big step."

"No one achieves perfection at once. Humans are born imperfect—that's our nature."

"If you chase perfection too blindly," Logan went on, "you'll only invite misery.

Everyone has things they can do, and things they can't.

Do what you can, and leave the rest to others. That's why we humans need one another."

Inwardly, Logan couldn't help thinking: At this rate, I'm half her psychic teacher, half her therapist…

But seeing the look in her eyes, he knew he couldn't do any less.

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