Beside the Indigo Plateau headquarters stood a League-owned hotel. Unlike normal establishments, this one was not for profit and not open to the public—it served only as a residence for the League's upper ranks.
This time, six of the Kanto Gym Leaders had taken up residence here, waiting for the Indigo Conference to begin.
Only six Gyms, because Viridian City's Giovanni was… well, Giovanni. As for Fuchsia's Gym, Koga had gone missing after facing League sanctions, leaving the entire facility unattended.
But honestly, the Kanto region had a reputation for this kind of chaos. Gym Leaders vanishing without notice was almost normal here. In other regions, Gym Leaders carried themselves with a sense of responsibility—they didn't disappear without a word, nor rebel at whim.
Kanto, however, was different. The League had always struggled to control it. This land constantly birthed powerful, unpredictable Trainers, each living with a kind of reckless freedom. At best, the League managed to maintain a fragile balance of stability here.
The League hotel didn't accept outsiders, but Trainers were technically allowed to pass through. Still, Logan chose not to walk in openly. He knew too many people inside. If word spread that he was here and he failed to pay respects to certain acquaintances, it could leave a sour impression.
Aside from the Gym Leaders, notable figures like Professor Oak were also staying in this hotel. With a simple psychic disguise, Logan discovered the floor Sabrina was on and quietly made his way upstairs.
The League's exclusive hotel was a marvel of its own. Every suite overlooked breathtaking highland scenery.
In one such suite, Sabrina sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, her cold profile framed by thin gauzy curtains swaying in the breeze. A cup of tea rested in her hand as she quietly sipped, her icy face as still and perfect as a snow-carved statue.
She was always like this—indifferent, uninterested in anything outside of her Pokémon. It wasn't unusual for her to sit silently in one place the entire afternoon.
What few people knew, however, was that despite her icy exterior, Sabrina did harbor a strangely normal hobby: she enjoyed movies. Whether comedy or tragedy, she watched them all. Even so, her face never changed—cold and unreadable, even in the theater's glow.
Knock, knock, knock—
A measured knock echoed against her door. Her brows drew together, delicate and sharp. Setting the teacup down, her voice floated like drifting snowflakes—cold, distant:
"…Who is it? I told you not to disturb me."
She assumed it was hotel staff.
She had few acquaintances here. While her relations with some of the other Gym Leaders had improved slightly, Erika and the others still regarded her with caution. As for Surge—well, she knew that man well enough. Right now, he was most likely drinking in some bar near Indigo Plateau, bragging loudly, then finding himself female company for the night.
But the moment she spoke, Sabrina froze. She sensed it—a familiar psychic signature.
Her heartbeat quickened. She stood abruptly, striding to the door with uncharacteristic haste.
She flung it open—only to be greeted by a familiar smile. The boy who stood there, waving casually, was a head taller than when they'd last met. Nearly six feet now, his figure bore the maturity of battle-forged discipline. His very presence radiated authority, suffocating yet reassuring.
No… not a boy anymore. A man.
The thought alone made Sabrina's cheeks flush red, her legs suddenly weak.
"It's been over a month. Did you miss me, Sabrina?"
Logan grinned shamelessly as he stepped past her, entering the suite without hesitation.
For the briefest second, joy sparkled in Sabrina's cold eyes. The corners of her lips even lifted. But just as quickly, the mask fell back into place—her ice queen composure restored, leaving the fleeting warmth looking like an illusion.
She didn't stop him, only shut the door quietly. "...Why are you here? Competitors have their own lodging, don't they?"
"The competitors' quarters? Too small, too plain. Sure, they're five-star in service, but only thirty square meters. Compared to this—" Logan swept his gaze around her room, whistling low.
A sprawling 200-square-meter suite. Plush carpets, luxury European minimalism in cool tones. A massive bed near the window overlooked the snow-capped peaks beyond.
"Compared to us Trainers… officials really know how to live," Logan mused.
He turned back to Sabrina, eyebrow raised. "What's the matter? Not happy to see me?"
"Do as you please," she replied coolly.
Logan only chuckled. He knew her too well. Cold words were her nature—yet they didn't hide the truth. He remembered the one time she'd completely broken down crying. It wasn't who she was—it was a momentary slip, a rare crack in the ice.
His eyes glinted as he took in her appearance. Sabrina wore a long, pale house dress—its straps exposing her delicate collarbones and smooth shoulders. Her skin gleamed alabaster-white, like flawless jade. The skirt's lower hem was sheer, a gossamer veil that revealed the length of her long legs beneath, teasingly hidden and revealed in turn.
Her fingers—slender, immaculate—were tipped in carefully painted polish. For all her cold detachment, Sabrina was still a woman who took care of herself, refined and beautiful down to every detail.
"I came straight here from beyond Mt. Moon," Logan said lightly. "Haven't eaten all day. Call up something for me, will you?"
He collapsed lazily into the chair she'd been sitting in moments earlier, utterly at ease.
Surprisingly, Sabrina liked that about him. She had almost no friends—her life had been colleagues, subordinates, and rivals. Never intimacy. But Logan treated her differently, without distance, without reservation. With him, she didn't have to be the untouchable psychic prodigy. She could just… exist.
"What would you like to eat?" she asked softly, turning toward the phone.
"I don't know what they serve here. Just order a set meal, whatever's fine."
Logan waved her off casually.
By the time she finished placing the call, he had moved behind her without a sound. Suddenly, his arms wrapped firmly around her waist.
"You—"
Her words cut short as her face flushed crimson, heat rising through her pale skin. His hand slid slowly, deliberately, up the silk of her gown, pressing higher across her stomach.
"It's daytime…" she whispered, trying to sound calm though her voice trembled faintly.
"So what?" Logan murmured. "Look outside—the only thing watching us is the mountain. Endless snow, nothing else."
Sabrina's eyes flicked toward the vast peaks beyond the window, their majesty cold and eternal. Her heart pounded.
"The food will be here soon…" she offered weakly.
"I heard you," Logan smiled. "But you told them to just leave it outside the door, didn't you?"
His voice was low, intimate.
Sabrina sighed softly, shoulders relaxing. Truthfully, she hadn't planned to resist at all. Her body melted into his arms, yielding, trusting.
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