Mountain streams flowed gently, bathed in moonlight as bright as silver water. Ti itself seed to ripple with the current, trickling down the river's path, carrying with it the silence of two long months.
Tonight was rare—a full moon night. The brilliant moonlight poured down from the heavens, illuminating the earth below in a pure silver glow. Every surface shimred with that faint, dreamlike white, as though the world had been cloaked in divine light.
This was the deep wilderness of the mountains, a place rarely touched by human presence. At night, wild Pokémon road and hunted freely. Without the protection of powerful partners, a human would never survive here. Yet, within this secluded mountain forest, untouched by civilization, a small stream wound its way forward. Smooth pebbles in the water reflected the moon's brilliance, making the stream sparkle like liquid silver.
Beside this crystalline flow stood a slender young woman dressed in a kimono. She stood quietly in the moonlight, her obi untied so that her robe hung loosely about her shoulders. A faint fragrance drifted in the night air, as though the entire stream had been sprinkled with falling flower petals.
Bare feet rose delicately, stepping into the icy current. The cold made her shiver, her body trembling at the touch of the water, yet she forced herself to continue, walking slowly until she stood in the middle of the stream.
On both riverbanks, a Vileplu and a Bellossom stood watch, alert for any wild Pokémon that might appear.
Life in the wilderness always brought with it dirt and discomfort. For a young woman, such things were unbearable. Every two days she insisted on bathing, a ritual she clung to—not just for cleanliness, but for comfort of both body and soul.
Erika sighed softly. She rembered when she had first set out on her journey as a new trainer. Back then, surviving in the wild was difficult enough. Bathing was a luxury she didn't even dare imagine. Simply staying alive was already an achievent.
But things were different now. Even in the wild, during special training, she had the ans to seek out better conditions. Food and drink could be endured with patience—but for a girl, bathing was not sothing to be neglected.
What amazed her most was not the comfort of the mont, but the boy who had entered her life. At first, it was Misty's suggestion that led her to et him. She hadn't expected much, but slowly, through their ti together, she found herself drawn to him.
He was remarkable—possessing a will of steel. On the surface, he often looked indifferent, as if everything was a chore, as though he were reluctantly dragged into every situation. But Erika knew better. That was only the mask. Beneath it, he was a young man of unyielding discipline, never once allowing himself to slack.
n who devoted themselves wholeheartedly to their path… they always captured the eyes of won. Erika was the eldest daughter of the noble family of Celadon City, heiress to the city's traditions, and now its Gym Leader. Yet, beyond the titles and responsibilities, she was also a woman in the pri of her youth.
In her earlier years, when she was only a sheltered heiress, there had been many noble youths seeking her favor. But back then, she was too young, uninterested in romance. She had dreams, ambitions, and refused to let herself be distracted.
Her dream was clear: to beco a truly outstanding Pokémon Trainer.
She abandoned the comfort of her noble life, carried the determination to risk death, and left despite her parents' conflicting emotions—both hope and resistance. Without hesitation, she abandoned the silk and gold, setting out into the dangerous and colorful world of Pokémon with only her very first partner: a small Oddish.
The hardships of those two years were sothing Erika rarely allowed herself to rember. It wasn't sweet nostalgia, but raw suffering. Pain of body and heart. Many trainers chose to travel together, forming groups to survive. Erika chose the hardest path—alone. She was only fifteen then, a girl with nothing but her noble upbringing, her self-taught knowledge, and her sheer will.
She had no true battle experience, no survival skills. Knowledge was one thing, reality was another.
But little by little, the fifteen-year-old girl endured, growing stronger until success beca hers.
At the Indigo League, she secured a good placent. Returning to Celadon City, she was celebrated. With further rigorous training, she eventually challenged the reigning Gym Leader in an official League-certified duel. She won—and claid the highest honor of her city. She beca Gym Leader.
At that mont, she stood at the peak of her life. Her noble family flourished because of her efforts, elevated to a new height. But ironically, that sa mont also severed her chances at marriage.
The noble young n who once courted her withdrew. A Gym Leader was no longer soone they could aspire to reach. The gap was too vast. The divide between ordinary n and Pokémon trainers was an unbridgeable chasm.
One by one, boys disappeared from her side. Those who admired her only dared from afar. As for the few shaless ones who still pursued her—she had no interest. She wasn't so desperate woman who would settle out of fear of loneliness.
A young girl's heart is always touched by poetry. Seventeen, eighteen—those were the years of longing, of dreams of love.
Unlike Misty, whose journey was shaped by duty to her family's Gym; unlike Brock, who sought to lift his family from poverty; unlike Sabrina, who had no choice but to leave ho due to her uncontrollable powers—Erika's journey was born of pure will.
She was not forced. She was not bound. She simply wanted it.
Her heart was stronger, more proactive than anyone else's.
And so, when she t a boy who stirred her heart, even if only a little, she refused to hide behind shyness. She would not let the chance slip away. This was her principle: take hold of what you want, and only then decide what to do with it.
Yet deep down, Erika knew—her boldness was not just desire. It was also the crushing weight she carried. The safety and future of Kanto weighed on her shoulders. Even if she smiled serenely, her heart carried a burden heavier than mountains.
She was still a girl, longing for soone she could lean on. Soone to help her carry that impossible weight.
So, she sought release, indulgence—a way to vent her sorrow, to carve out an escape from the suffocating pressure.
Then ca footsteps. Soft, deliberate, echoing in the night.
Logan walked along the riverbank, one hand in his pocket. Soon, he was greeted by a sight straight from a painter's masterpiece.
Moonlight poured down upon the stream, illuminating the girl's pale skin. Water shimred across her body like molten silver. She seed less like a girl and more like a goddess descended to bathe in the stream.
No… with her elegance and otherworldly beauty, she seed like the Moon Princess herself.
Her kimono hung loosely, more draped than worn. She heard his footsteps, yet showed no sha—only her gentle, graceful smile as she turned.
And Logan saw her then, revealed in that moonlit water, her body nearly bare, half-concealed and yet more alluring for it.
Droplets traced her skin, sliding down her fra, and his throat tightened. He swallowed hard.
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