After working with Ash on the S.S. Anne until the early hours of the morning, the two bid each other farewell upon returning to their cabins. Exhausted, Ryuuske collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep almost instantly.
However, the mont he opened his eyes the next day, he imdiately sensed sothing was off—his body felt unusually heavy, his neck was ticklish, and his nose was filled with an intoxicating fragrance that was decidedly not sothing a man would naturally carry.
Startled into full wakefulness, he looked down to find Caitlin clinging to him like an octopus, her golden hair spilling across his neck and the warmth of her breath ghosting over his skin. With a jolt, Ryuuske sat upright, his eyes darting toward the nightstand where wtwo's Poké Ball rested.
Unless he was in the wilderness, Ryuuske slept deeply in safe environnts—because wtwo stood guard, ensuring no life-threatening danger could approach unnoticed. If wtwo hadn't alerted him during the night, it could only an Caitlin posed no threat whatsoever.
"Good morning, Lord Ryuuske."
Like a drowsy Sleeping Beauty, Caitlin rubbed her eyes and let out a languid murmur, her long golden hair fanning across the sheets like a blooming white rose. The sheer volu of her locks was enough to make any girl green with envy.
Her adorable pink sleeping cap was still in place, and she hadn't even changed out of her dress. Her fair calves and delicate feet glead under the light, the veins on her instep faintly visible, her toenails painted a pretty shade. Curled up like a kitten, she was enough to make Ryuuske's blood rush.
He was, after all, a teenage boy.
"How did you get in here?"
He distinctly rembered locking the door this ti.
"I had Gothorita use Psychic to break the lock."
Caitlin said it so casually, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Right. Of course you did."
Ryuuske had no rebuttal. In a world where Pokémon existed, the impossible beca mundane.
"And why did you co here?"
The bed was large enough for two, yet Caitlin had insisted on clinging to him like a limpet.
"You said last night that if I had free ti, I should co find you."
Caitlin pouted, but Ryuuske didn't miss the mischief in her eyes. Freed from the erratic temperant induced by her uncontrolled psychic powers, the young noblewoman was finally revealing her true, willful nature.
Typical aristocrat behavior—raised in luxury and showered with praise, she had grown up believing the world revolved around her.
"So sleeping counts as free ti now?"
"Of course. I've always had too much free ti. Most days, I just sit around daydreaming."
Her tone was matter-of-fact as she smoothed out her dress, the fabric slipping slightly off one shoulder to reveal a delicate collarbone.
Listening to her, Ryuuske felt a headache coming on. Was she implying that since she was always free, he was now obligated to teach her psychic control all day, every day?
Great. So now I have zero privacy and no personal life.
Not that Caitlin wasn't beautiful—stunning, even. But Ryuuske had no interest in romantic distractions right now. His sole focus was growing stronger—strong enough to overco any obstacle, strong enough to achieve his ambitions.
He wasn't above indulging in certain… urges, like he had with Sabrina back in Mt. Moon. But having a woman cling to him 24/7? That was just annoying.
If Caitlin were strong enough to be useful—soone who could back him up in high-risk situations—he might've tolerated it. But as she was now, she hadn't yet proven herself worthy of his acknowledgnt.
In short: a nuisance.
"Let's table this discussion for now. Go wash up. It's already nine in the morning."
With a sigh, Ryuuske urged Caitlin off the bed.
Obediently, she hopped onto the carpet, barefoot, and padded toward the bathroom without bothering with socks or shoes.
"Aren't you going back to get your toiletries?"
"The S.S. Anne's first-class cabins stock multiple sets of high-end robes. I'll just use those."
Her voice floated back to him, and Ryuuske shook his head. The life of a noblewoman was truly different. Despite her claims of solitude, her everyday luxuries were beyond what ordinary people could afford.
That such a sheltered girl had the courage to beco a trainer—a dangerous profession—was comndable.
Or perhaps her family had pushed her into it. After all, trainers, especially powerful ones, held transcendent social status—perfect for furthering a family's influence. The Dragon Clan of Blackthorn was a pri example; despite Lance's indifference, they still shalessly tried to curry favor with him.
At least Caitlin was self-sufficient enough to handle her own grooming. Before long, she erged from the bathroom just as her phone, left on the tablecloth, began ringing.
"It's Darach. I'm not in my room right now. Yes, I'm next door. Co to Cabin 1024."
She hung up with a light tap, and Ryuuske didn't bother comnting. As for whether this would lead to misunderstandings—well, his reputation was already beyond salvaging. Might as well embrace the chaos.
Though he had mocked the cabin number earlier. 1024? Really? That's just asking for censorship.
Soon, a knock sounded at the door. Caitlin, now seated elegantly at the suite's vanity and applying light makeup with the provided high-end costics, called out like the lady of the house, "The lock's broken, Darach. Co in."
Caitlin's butler stepped inside—a handso man in his thirties with a polite smile. His gaze flickered over the disheveled bed, then to Caitlin, freshly showered and still slightly damp as she sat at the vanity. One eyebrow twitched.
"...Milady, shall I bring breakfast?"
"Have it sent here, Darach."
"Very well."
The butler asked no further questions, though the look he shot Ryuuske was decidedly frosty.
"Oh, Darach!"
"Yes?"
"...Never mind. It's nothing."
Caitlin hesitated, nearly blurting out, "You're fired. I don't need you anymore." But abandoning him after using him felt too shaless—and she did still need his assistance to return to Sinnoh.
Puzzled, the butler departed, leaving Ryuuske seated silently in his chair.
To be continued…
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