In Viridian Forest, Yellow let out a sleepy yawn, covering her mouth with one hand.
It was another early morning. As usual, she came to the riverbank of Viridian Forest to fish, practicing her angling skills. While waiting for a bite, she picked up her sketchbook and worked on her drawings.
In the world of Pokémon, education was loose and flexible. Unlike the wealthy heirs of big families, most ordinary children began deciding their future path around the age of ten or so.
Those who wished to research Pokémon started learning knowledge and theory. Those who wanted to be Trainers had to begin traveling with Pokémon, preparing for their journeys.
Yellow was still very young—not even twelve yet. Like most kids her age, she wasn't expected to have chosen a future yet. However, under Logan's guidance,Yellow had begun working toward becoming a Pokémon caretaker.
This profession was much like a nurse or doctor for Pokémon. The most important skill wasn't raw battling power, but the ability to bond with Pokémon quickly, to communicate with them. For someone like Yellow, who possessed the mysterious Viridian Power, this was a natural talent.
"Alright! A brand new day! Aurorus, let's do our best together~~ This morning, we'll keep fishing and sketching, and in the afternoon we'll train your skills!"
Because of Logan's influence, Yellow also trained her Pokémon in her free time. Compared to Trainers like Red, she wasn't as gifted at battling or capturing Pokémon. But she worked hard and never gave up.
Aurorus lifted its head and let out a cheerful call, expressing its joy. Trainer and Pokémon walked their usual riverside path. Suddenly, Aurorus noticed something. It quickly tugged on Yellow's pant leg with its mouth.
"You found something, Aurorus?"
Yellow, who could sense Pokémon emotions, immediately understood. She followed Aurorus into a thicket. Using her fishing rod to push the bushes aside, she gasped in shock and covered her mouth.
"…Oh no, this Pikachu is badly hurt!"
The small Electric-type was covered in wounds and blood. Its breathing was ragged, its body trembling. Clearly, it had gone through a brutal battle. Even at the edge of death, its eyes still held fierce determination. With what little strength it had left, it dragged its tiny body through the dirt, refusing to give up.
When it saw Yellow, Pikachu's dimming eyes flickered with hope. With a weak cry, it called out:
"Pika…chu…"
"Hold on, Pikachu! I'll heal you right now! Aurorus, stay alert—don't let wild Pokémon come near!"
Aurorus gave a protective cry, standing guard.
Yellow dropped her fishing rod and rushed forward, gently lifting Pikachu into her arms. Her hands glowed with a soft green light—the power of Viridian flowed into Pikachu's body. Slowly, its horrifying external wounds began to close. At the same time, Yellow used her power to read its consciousness.
Before long, Pikachu's outer injuries were healed. But the damage had been too severe. Its spirit had been pushed past its limits. Exhaustion overcame it, and it collapsed into unconsciousness.
Yellow's small eyes hardened with resolve. She held Pikachu tightly in her arms.
"Aurorus, we're going to Pallet Town right now. I have to tell Big Brother Logan what Pikachu showed me!"
At that moment, Yellow seemed to merge with the entire Viridian Forest. The trees all shivered faintly, whispering as though echoing her determination.
Meanwhile, in the neatly kept courtyard of Professor Oak's lab, Logan stood facing Cynthia.
Their eyes locked—not with affection, but with pure, burning battle spirit.
"Cynthia, as the Champion of Sinnoh, I know you must be someone who loves battling, who cherishes her Pokémon, and shares an unshakable bond with them. How about a little spar here and now? Not a full six-on-six. Just… a small match."
Logan tossed a Poké Ball lightly in his hand, smiling.
"Even if you didn't say it, Logan, I already had the same thought."
Cynthia closed her eyes. When they opened again, her usually gentle gray gaze had turned sharp as steel. Her aura shifted instantly—soft warmth replaced by cold majesty, like a mountain immovable and eternal. Even the air seemed to freeze.
It was as if Cynthia had two personalities—gentle in daily life, but when in battle, another side of her awakened. The sudden transformation even surprised Logan.
"Haha, perfect! That's exactly the aura a Champion should have. Then—"
Logan's smile vanished, his expression growing serious. Neither said another word as they both threw their Poké Balls at the same moment.
"Garchomp!"
In unison, their voices rang out. Two identical Pokémon materialized on the field—Garchomp vs. Garchomp.
Trainer and Champion exchanged a glance. Their lips curled into faint smiles, an unspoken understanding between them.
These weren't just two Garchomps—they were twins. Though normally even same-species Pokémon bore subtle differences, these two were indistinguishable in size, appearance, and presence.
The dragons locked eyes, no recognition or familial warmth—only raw killing intent. Had they remained wild, they might have lived together as siblings. But as trained Pokémon, family ties meant nothing. Once their Trainers gave the command, they would fight to the death without hesitation.
"When I was young, my grandmother placed two Gibles in front of me. I chose the elder sister as my first partner. The younger one… was sent here to Professor Oak."
Cynthia looked at Logan's Garchomp, her voice tinged with nostalgia. Yet her tone was calm.
"I used to worry about what would happen to it. When I learned it had a Trainer, I worried whether that Trainer would treat it well, train it properly. But now, seeing how strong and noble it's become… I should thank you, Logan."
"…Back then, when I didn't choose it, the disappointment in its eyes… I still remember it vividly."
Cynthia exhaled, as though releasing a burden that had weighed on her heart for years.
But Logan's Garchomp only gave a disdainful look, its eyes practically saying, "You're lucky you didn't pick me back then."
Cynthia laughed softly. She knew well her species' pride. Garchomp were fierce, merciless, high-spirited creatures. Once bonded, they gave their all—but toward other Trainers, disdain was second nature.
"Then perhaps I should thank you, Cynthia. Because you didn't choose it, I was able to meet my Garchomp. Memories are precious, like pearls… but this is no time for reminiscing. Because the Garchomp you face now is not that little Gible. This is—a Champion!"
With a snap of Logan's hand, a gust of wind tore through the courtyard. His Garchomp vanished, already charging at Cynthia's.
"And you should be careful," Cynthia said coolly. Her voice was cold, proud, like a blade. "Because the Garchomp you face is also—a Champion!"
For the second time, Logan realized: this woman was truly a paradox. Gentle at home, yet ruthless and commanding on the battlefield—a powerful woman in every sense.
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