There's a saying: "A year's plan starts in spring, a day's plan starts in the morning."
The breeze of dawn swept through Pallet Town, gentle and refreshing. In the sky, Spearow and Pidgey began their morning hunt, swooping after their prey. Daytime Pokémon stretched awake, shaking off their drowsiness and racing joyfully through the grasslands, while nocturnal Pokémon returned to their nests, curling up into deep slumber until nightfall returned.
When Logan rose early, washed, and stepped into the courtyard of Professor Oak's lab, his eyes immediately fell upon a figure standing among the trees—Cynthia.
Today, she wasn't wearing her Champion's cloak. Without the imposing mantle, she simply wore a thin, pure black blouse. Her lower half was clad in wide, flared trousers, like bell-bottoms, with elegant high heels beneath.
Logan's eyes flickered with a trace of disappointment. The trousers were far too loose, hiding the long, model-like legs he knew she must have. And the wide hems covering her shoes left the graceful lines of her feet completely obscured.
Perhaps, though, the hidden was always more enticing than the revealed.
"Miss Cynthia, the morning air's a bit chilly. You should wear more—you wouldn't want to catch a cold," Logan called out, stepping into the sunlit courtyard.
He was still in his signature Champion's cloak, though the front zipper was undone, showing the stylish, casual outfit beneath. The slightly unrestrained look gave him an air of youthful rebellion.
"Good morning, Champion," Cynthia replied with a soft smile. Hearing his voice, she turned gracefully, lifted a hand, and waved.
"Good morning… Though Kanto is warmer than Sinnoh overall, don't take it too lightly," Logan chuckled as he came to stand beside her. Together, they watched the Miltank grazing peacefully nearby.
The collar and cuffs of Cynthia's jacket were lined with plush fur—a reminder that Sinnoh was far colder than Kanto most of the year.
"It's my first time in Kanto. To arrive in the place that's said to have the purest air and the most harmonious balance between humans and Pokémon—it's exhilarating. Honestly, I don't feel cold at all. To me, the weather here is perfect."
Stretching up on her toes, Cynthia raised both arms high and arched her back, letting out a long, satisfied sigh.
The faint sound of that sigh—soft, feminine, and content—made Logan's pulse quicken uncomfortably. Morning was, after all, when men were at their most restless. He turned his back quickly, walking a few paces ahead with a posture that might have seemed awkward, but mostly so she wouldn't notice his… indiscretion.
Once he had calmed himself, his stride returned to normal. Heading over to a wooden shed, Logan retrieved two empty bottles and said, "Pallet Town is Professor Oak's greatest life achievement. He staked his entire reputation to ensure this place—and nearby Viridian City—banned all polluting technologies. It's thanks to him that this remains the purest place in the world."
"Even modern tech, with all its environmental safeguards, still creates small amounts of pollution," he continued, "but here in Pallet Town, there is none. This is the world's only 'Pure White Town'—human life in complete harmony with nature."
"I can feel it," Cynthia said warmly. "Even the air is sweet. One deep breath here and I feel… enchanted. I don't even want to return to Sinnoh. The Pokémon here are so many, so diverse—and they seem so joyful. It's unlike anything I've ever seen."
She closed her eyes, spread her arms wide, and basked in the morning breeze.
"You could settle here, you know," Logan teased. "Aren't you passionate about history and legends? Pallet Town has one of the highest rates of Legendary Pokémon sightings in the world. Live here long enough, and if you don't encounter one… well, you'd just have the worst luck imaginable."
Cynthia chuckled, intrigued.
Logan crouched beside the Miltank and began milking expertly, filling the bottles. His practiced movements suggested this wasn't his first time.
"Then, Champion—what Legendaries have you encountered in Pallet Town?" she asked curiously.
"In Viridian Forest, not far from here, I once saw Mew," Logan replied casually.
And I caught it, he added silently, keeping that part to himself.
"The origin of all Pokémon… Mew," Cynthia whispered reverently. "They say it lives on 'Faraway Island,' a place carrying the scent of every Pokémon's birthplace. But no one knows where the island is."
Of course she'd know even this. A historian's excitement lit her eyes. Logan, however, smirked inwardly. Others might not know—but surely Mew does. And if no one else recognizes it… well, I can claim its homeland as my own private sanctuary.
"But right now," Cynthia continued, "my focus is on Sinnoh's myths. If someday I fully uncover its legends, maybe then I'll bring my grandmother and settle here."
"Dialga and Palkia?" Logan asked offhandedly.
"You know of them?" Cynthia's eyes widened with delight.
"Like you, I'm drawn to myths and legends," Logan said, smiling. "If you ever discover ruins or uncover new knowledge, I'd be honored if you'd share it with me."
He capped the bottle of fresh milk and handed it to her.
"Dialga, who gave us time," Cynthia recited softly, her voice almost like a chant, "so that laughter and tears alike flow equally. And Palkia, who gave us space, so that in life and death alike, we share the same realm. This is written on the ancient tablets of Celestic Town. Sadly, so much has been lost with time."
Her words carried deep reverence. And for Logan, listening to her passion sparked an unexpected warmth. To find someone of equal strength, equal knowledge, and a shared love of history—it was rare. To some, it was the greatest luck in a lifetime.
"My dream," Cynthia said firmly, eyes shining, "is to see Dialga and Palkia with my own eyes."
"I believe you will, Cynthia," Logan murmured. His tone was quiet, almost ambiguous—but carried a weight of conviction.
"Don't call me Miss Cynthia," she laughed. "It feels too distant. Just call me by my name."
"And don't keep calling me Champion," Logan countered lightly. "Call me Logan."
He held out the bottle filled with milk, smiling. "Want to try? Probably the best milk in the world—Pallet Town's pride. Fresh, pure, and untainted."
"Thank you, Logan."
Cynthia took it, their hands brushing. They exchanged a glance—smiles, quiet, and unspoken.
Friendship is like a diamond—formed unexpectedly, yet shining forever. With time, these moments would become the pearls of memory.
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