"Go on," he says, voice quiet, tone kind. He's listening.

It's probably not surprising that these past few months, he's started to genuinely care about her. He didn't really, at first - had just written her off as any other teenager. And even though Cooper's not sure when he started getting curious about her past (that was probably due to a number of little things), it's not exactly difficult to understand why learning about it has him feeling all kinds of sympathy for her.

And not only that - on some level he's a little frustrated that he can't help, somehow. Because that's what he does, has always done: try to set things right. Try to help. Do the Right Thing.

But there's nothing he can do about anything in Johto and it's left him without the feeling of purpose that accompanied his job. He stopped introducing himself with his title many months ago, but somehow it still feels ... almost empty, not having that anymore.

But he can still listen. He's always been good at that. He uncrosses his legs and shifts a little, hands gripping the edges of the table almost as if bracing himself for what Heather might tell him.

Someone worse, huh?