Like No One Ever Was
Though he heard the other trainer's approach, Red didn't bother turning around. He nodded, almost imperceptibly, as the newcomer panted, trying to regain their breath. Red knew firsthand how difficult it was to climb Mt. Silver for the first time. As he waited, the only sounds being the falling snow and the other trainer's labored breathing, Red looked out to the north. If he squinted, he could almost see the Sinnoh shore. Perhaps he'd travel there later- or perhaps he already had. It all seemed to blur together after the first few regions. Finally, the newcomer regained their composure.
"Red."
It wasn't a question so much as an accusation, which caught Red off-guard. He had thought he'd covered his tracks well over the past year, but clearly someone had figured him out. For the first time, he turned to face the trainer, taking in his new opponent. It was a boy who looked to be about eleven, wearing jet black sweatpants and a red hoodie. A yellow and black hat covered his dark hair, but the boy's most striking feature was the red box clipped to his belt.
A Pokedex.
Red's fingers absently brushed over his own, much older model Pokedex; he always carried it with him, even though he hadn't used it in years. If this boy had found him, knew who he was, and owned a Pokedex... clearly the old man had been busy. It was a conceited assumption, Red knew that, but it was the type of thing Oak would do. It was only natural that when one of his experiments went "rogue," the professor would simply froom another one to take it's place. Sending this kid to fight Red was a mere passing of the metaphorical torch.
A second glance made him pause- the boy seemed fairly innocent, if slightly annoyed. It seemed obvious that he was doing this for the spirit of the adventure. Maybe Oak had nudged him along slightly (after all, the guards had allowed the kid to explore the mountain), but there was no malice in his eyes.
Red wished the same could be said of his belt.
Amidst five generic red and white spheres, one stood out. Mostly purple, with two light pink circles adorning the top, the Master Ball seemed to shake. Whatever was inside was looking forward to the challenge.
Nothing more needed to be said. Both boys reached for their respective belt, unhooking a Pokeball. The newcomer lifted a hand to the brim of his cap, turning it backwards. Red barely contained a grin at the wave of nostalgia the movement provoked; he himself had made that gesture many times when he knew a battle would be challenging. But while the opponent may have been strong enough to scale the mountain, he was no Red. The master's cap remained pointing forward. Simultaneously, the two Pokeballs were thrown, and the battle began.
As the continent Pokemon rushed towards the mouse, Red muttered a single word: "Pikachu." Then again, perhaps he hadn't said it at all; the link he shared with all of his Pokemon seemed to transcend words. Though Red rarely spoke, they always picked up on his most subtle suggestions in battle. Especially Pikachu. From their very first battle, the trainer and his starter operated on the same wavelength; they were practically two parts of the same creature.
In response to his trainer's commands (be they verbal or something deeper), Pikachu vanished just as Torterra was about to slam into it. The Grass-and-Ground type screeched to a halt and looked around quizically, before Pikachu, tail glowing, dropped from the sky. The smaller Pokemon rotated in the air once, before crashing down tail first on Torterra's head. Red noted with some satisfaction that it was a critical hit, but his mind was already beginning to wander. After all, this battle wasn't nearly as important as many of the others before it...
Suddenly, Red wasn't facing the kid. He was a kid himself, maybe eleven or twelve. So was his opponent, a cocky boy wearing a black sweater with a blue and green yin-yang symbol on the front. His brown hair was characteristically messy, and despite his predicament, Red found his rival's trademark smirk oddly comforting. Rather than the cold peak of the continent's highest mountain, the two fought on the Pallet Town streets, the usual crowd of spectators watching them. His eyes snapped back to the battle- his rival's Rhydon sported the same cocky smirk as its trainer as it held Red's Pikachu above the ground. The mouse squirmed, clearly uncomfortable, as Red's mind raced. Thunderbolt. Thunder Wave. Hidden Power. Sing. None of thse would do much against the titanic Rock-and-Ground type.
Silently, Red cursed his luck. His rival hadn't given him this much trouble in ages. Both were down to their last Pokemon, after an exhaustive battle. As Rhydon threw the injured Pikachu at Red, it occured to the trainer that he might actually lose this one.
Pikachu slammed into Red with a squeal, knocking the trainer to the ground. He grunted as a stray spark from the Electric type singed his arm. No matter. They had both gone through worse... Red pulled off his backpack, looking for a Full Restore, when an Earthquake from the Drill Pokemon knocked him over again. He swore as his backpack flew out of his hands and onto the barely conscious Pikachu, who moaned breifly. Red ran over, searched among the former contents of his backpack (now scattered across the floor), and sprayed the first thing he could find it on the tiny mouse. It was only a Super Potion, but it'd have to do for now. Pikachu's ears perked up, and it bounced back to its feet, accidentally crushing a disk that had falen from the bag. Red made a barely noticable shrug; the disk was a gift from the former Hoenn champion, but the fact that Pikachu was back on form was much more important. The tiny mouse's eyes lit up as it rushed over to Rhydon. With a burst of speed neither trainer nor Pokemon knew it had in it, Pikachur jumped, twisted, and slammed it's tail into the Rhydon's mouth.
The colossal Pokemon blinked, dazed, as its opponent, clearly using the last of it's energy, crouched down and swung with its tail again. It collided with Rhydon's feet, knocking it to the ground. The taller Pokemon tried to glare at Pikachu, but the effect was dampened by the fact that it was now at eye level with the mouse. Panting heavily, it tried to prop itself up, but a third Iron Tail smashed into its nose...
A cry of pain snapped Red back to the present, and made him realize with a start that he had been daydreaming. Pikachu was covered in scratches, and sharp looking leaves were scattered on the ground. Torterra chuckled wearily; clearly the opening Iron Tail hadn't been easily shrugged off. Its body shook slightly, and a second volley of leaves propelled from the tree on its back. Red and Pikachu glanced at each other, and as one, nodded.
The Pokemon grinned and jumped towards its larger opponent. Once again, it's tail began to glow. The Torterra's trainer frowned, and spoke for the first time since the battle began. "It's using Iron Tail again! Torterra, shoot an Energy Ball above you!"
Torterra complied, shooting green spheres from its mouth towards where the mouse would be. Pikachu chuckled as Red smirked; everything was going according to plan. Suddenly, the Pikachu's whole body was covered in the white glow that was on its tail, and in the blink of an eye it was underneath the Torterra, slamming into its belly with unbelievable speed. Iron Tail was still a key player in Pikachu's moveset, but they had both progressed a long way from the time they needed to spam the move to win. Especially when all it took were some slight mindgames and a Quick Attack. The Continent Pokemon slumped to the ground, defeated, as Pikachu ran our from under it. Red noted with interest that its second Razor Leaf had destroyed quite a large chunk of the ground beneath the two Pokemon.
The younger trainer frowned, and wordlessly withdrew Torterra. It was replaced by a scowling Swampert, and the battle recommenced. Once again, Pikachu opened with Iron Tail, but with a dismissive shrug, Swampert countered with an Earthquake. Red winced as his starter fell, and sighed as he recalled the mouse. Just as he was considering who to send out next, the silence was broken by a shrill ringing. The elder trainer raised an eyebrow as his opponent grinned sheepishly.
"Sorry. Do you mind if I?..." Red shrugged, and the younger trainer, still apologizing, answered his Pokegear.
"Hello? Oh. It's you.... Yes, you told me.... I'm sure it is. That's why you have so many badges... Uh huh. Wow, almost? That's amazing! You've been standing on Route 30 for how many weeks now?... Look, I'm sort of in the middle of something. I gotta go." Sighing, the young boy closed the Pokegear. He quickly glanced at the object, and the edge of the cliff below, seemingly weighing the benefits of simply tossing it off the mountain. With a sigh, he seemed to think better of it, and merely placed the it in his bag.
Both trainers looked at each other, one tilting his head inquisitively, one smiling embarrassedly. "Sorry. Fanboys. You know how it is."
Somehow, through silence and a raised eyebrow, Red managed to show that he knew exactly "how it was," and that one of his own fanboys appeared to have scaled a mountain for a shot at the Pokemon Master. The younger boy scowled, and pointed out matter of factly that someone would get shoved off the mountain if they didn't send out their next damn Pokemon.
With a slight chuckle, Red complied, and sent out his trusty Venusaur. To many trainers, sending out a Grass type against a Swampert may have seemed unsporting, but in Red's opinon, it showed his faith in the opponent. The best trainers, in his experience, made sure that their Pokemon were able to at least put up a fight against an opponent with a type advantage. No one had ever questioned Red's philosophy on this subject (for a number of reasons. Red being Red, he had never mentioned it to anyone before. Even if he had, Red being... well, RED, anyone who doubted him would immediately be branded as ignorant.), but he had formed that belief well before becoming a Trainer himself. After all, he reasoned, if super-effective attacks were all it took to win a battle, Gym Leaders would be pushovers. (The fact that he found them pushovers anyway could be attributed less to a lack of skill on their part, and more to the fact that their opponent was, in case you missed it, Red.)
It took a lot to climb Mt. Silver. Skill, smarts, trust, cunning, and balls the size of Golems. Red wasn't entirely convinced that his opponent would be a huge challenge, but the sheer fact that the kid had managed to get to him meant he held Red's utmost respect. Sending out anything else in order to go easy on him would be almost insulting. Besides, you didn't get to be the Pokemon Master by cutting your challengers any slack.
His faith in the boy was not misplaced. Before Venusaur could use the Giga Drain Red hadn't even bothered to order, Swampert struck it with an Ice Beam. The Pokemon wasn't close to defeated by the attack, but to Red's annoyance, it was frozen.
Frozen... As he pulled a Full Restore out of his bag, Red's mind began to wander once more.
Somewhat surprisingly considering how many battles he'd been in, only one of Red's pokemon had ever been frozen once before;it had been Venusaur that time as well. Well, Ivysaur at the time, but his point still stood. (Why he felt it necessary to clarify a point he had only made in his head, he didn't know. For someone who talked so little, his brain never seemed to shut up.) Red recalled swearing under his breath as the Grass type was frozen by its opponent, A fearsome Articuno. He had known that Ice types inhabited the Seafoam Islands, but he had never expected to run into a Legendary Bird while training. The large blue bird let out a cry of satisfaction as its opponent froze, before glaring at the trainer with the audacity to enter its territory. It took a step towards Red, light blue energy forming around its mouth. Red frowned and quickly reached into his backapack, hoping to find something to cure Ivysaur's dilemma, but to his dismay, it was almost empty. With a pang of regret, Red recalled storing his Ice Heals in order to hold more Ethers. After all, he had never needed the pink spray before anyway. After eighteen hours of nonstop training, all his bag held was a single Ultra Ball and a Master Ball.
For the second time that day, and the third time in his life, Red swore. Without much confidence, he tossed the Ultra Ball at the advancing Pokemon.
It shook once. Twice. Three times.
On the second shake, Red allowed himself to breathe. As it shook the third, he let himself think he had a shot. Then his prior experience as a Trainer kicked in, he realized that was insanely fucking stupid (four) and he had already run over to Ivysaur by the time the Ball exploded in a shower of smoke. As the unbelievably pissed off Articuno roared in anger (five), Red covered his frozen Pokemon in his jacket, before turning to face the Legendary Pokemon. If he was going to die due to his own unpreparedness, so be it, but he'd be damned if he'd let any of his Pokemon be killed by an overgrown Pidgey with a bigger case of blue-balls than the Pewter Gym Leader. Hugging Ivysaur for what he thought would be the last time, he placed the Pokemon on the ground and glared at the advancing Legendary. Locking eyes with the creature, he clenched his fists and gave the longest speech he'd made in months.
"Back the fuck off. Six."
To the mutual surprise of everything in the cave, Articuno hesitated.
It wouldn't be obvious, but a hell of a lot was racing through Articuno's mind at that point. Despite being rather protective of its twin islands, Articuno wasn't by nature a violent creature. It had never killed, maimed, or even shat on a human, and it was honestly rather offended that this young child thought otherwise. However, there was something about the boy that honestly scared the feathers off of the Legendary. His very presence made it feel like pushing itself further than it ever had before. Not even necessarily to win, but simply because anything else would be... dishonest? Disappointing? Regardless, the child was driven, and he perceived Articuno to be a threat. The bird briefly considered that it might be in its best interest to break it's rules and kill the human.
Red's mind was also racing. Ivysaur was hurt, badly, due to Red's own incompetence. If he got the chance, he needed to go to Pallet and put P125 in the jar by his fridge. On the subject of Pallet, he was relatively certain he had seen a girl he knew from down the block using a surfing Tauros of all things. He also had to think of a way to defeat an angry Articuno without any usable Pokemon. (The thought to use the Master Ball never even crossed the trainer's mind. Some part of him deep down considered the bird unworthy of the item.)
The two glared at each other, although Articuno's heart wasn't in it. It would be unwise to make the child an enemy. Finally, something inside of Red snapped.
"Ivysaur."
Perhaps responding to the trainer's voice, or perhaps to something deeper, the ice covering the Grass type shattered. Ivysaur stepped forward, clearly damaged, and looked at his trainer. After a few seconds, he conversed briefly with Articuno, to Red's bemusement. Eventually, the two seemed to come to an understanding. The small Grass type wrapped onto the bird's back with a vine, and grabbed his trainer with another. Surprised, Red made an undignified squawk, which only increased in intensity as Articuno began to fly.
The Pokemon in the cave must have laughed for weeks at the ensuing sight. The Legendary Articuno, clearly scared shitless, was transporting an equally frightened thirteen year old, and an Ivysaur that was trying its hardest not to crack up. Eventually, Articuno deposited them at the exit, nodded to them both, and flew the fuck north. Sinnoh, it reasoned, was looking like a particularly nice place to live these days. Less crazy trainers.
Red smiled as he sprayed the Full Restore on Venusaur. That had been the first Legendary he'd ever fought, and he frowned slightly as he realized that by the end of the day, he'd fight one more, if his opponent's Master Ball was any indication. But first...
Venusaur grinned, and shook his head as he was thawed. It'd take more than one Ice Beam to take him down. Especially if it wasn't even STAB'd. With surprising speed, the Venusaur launched a volley of powedery spores towards its opponent. The Swampert grunted and closed its eyes; the Sleep Poweder had taken effect ridiculously quickly. A groan from its trainer indicated that the boy had neglected to bring any awkening items with him. This would be easier than they expected.
The Master chuckled and patted his backpack; he may have made the same mistake some years ago, but he couldn't resist lording it over the younger boy. Glancing at the sleeping Swampert, Red snapped his fingers. In response, Venusuar's flower began to glow with a green light, drawing in emerald blobs of energy from Swampert. Maybe if it had been up against any other Grass type, the Mud Fish Pokemon might have won, but Venusaur had spent six years being trained by Red. Trainer and Pokemon smirked, knowing the round was theirs.
His opponent frowned. "Yeah, no. Swampert, Sleep Talk." The Water type muttered its name quietly, as blue energy gathered in its mouth. With a roar, the energy blasted forth. This time, the Ice Beam grew in intensity as it struck the Seed Pokemon- a critical hit. Venusaur growled, and shook its body angrily. Another hit would be all it took to defeat either Pokemon.
Glaring, Red uttered his first spoken command in years. "Frenzy Plant." As massive vines snuck out of the flower on Venusaur's back the challenger once again ordered Sleep Talk.
Swampert's eyes opened.
Upon seeing the stance the Swampert took, both trainers groaned. Before Venusaur could react, Swampert slammed into it, with enough force that both Pokemon took damage. The two starters locked eyes, neither willing to be the first to fall. Finally, the Swampert buckled. With one last smile of satisfaction, so did Venusaur.
Red withdrew Venusaur as his opponent recalled Swampert. The kid threw out another Pokeball, and with a burst of smoke, his Typhlosion emerged, ready for battle. In response, Red simply whistled.
Three minutes passed, the three of them just standing there. Eventually, the challenger spoke. "Aren't you going to call out your next Pokemon?
Red smiled, and answered simply. "I did."
Before the younger trainer could ask what he meant, a rush of air answered his question. To the boy's surprise, he heard the steady thumping of beating wings behind him. Turning around, he found himself face to face with a smirking Charizard.
Sweat dripped down the boy's face as the mighty lizard roared. Unlike it's trainer, Typhlosion wasn't impressed; the Volcano Pokemon simply crossed its arms and looked dismissively at the dual-type. The Charizard let out a low chuckle, and flew next to his trainer, who waited impassively. While Red held complete trust for all of his Pokemon, there were times when he didn't see eye to eye with Charizard. Not surprising, considering he was simply borrowing it.
He was fifteen again. Green, his best friend and rival stood to his right, his trademark smirk plastered on his face. For once, it wasn't directed toward Red, but instead the two trainers standing in front of them. Green said something (most likely a smug attempt at trash talk), but Red couldn't hear it over the roar of the audience. Truth be told, he'd always hated battling in front of large crowds, but it was good publicity for the Kanto region. Any battle involving Red or Green was bound to draw an audience, but a double battle between themselves and the two most recent champions of Hoenn brought even more attention than he could imagine. The Indigo Plateau stadium was packed more than he had ever seen before.
The battle hadn't even begun yet, and already Red was feeling bored. Hoenn must have had a complete lack of talent if two clowns like these were the champions. They may have been decent trainers, but for Arceus's sake, they used themed parties. Water and Steel... Red or Green alone could take them both down; combined their opponents stood no chance. The Steel trainer (Steven, Red believed) stood with his arms crossed, and a somewhat pained expression. He appeared to have the same aversion to audiences as Red. His partner on the other hand... "Attention whore" didn't even begin to descrive it. He was wearing a cape, for fuck's sake. Who the hell wore a cape in public? Of course, that wasn't nearly as bad as Green's new mullet...
To Red's complete disbelief, the roaring crowd actually became silent when Professor Oak, standing at the side of the battle field, raised his hand. "The double battle between the Kanto and Hoenn Champions will now commence! No items may be used, and each trainer may use one Pokemon. For the sake of the Champions and their Pokemon, we ask you to please remain quiet, and silence your Pokegears. Recording any portion of this match is prohibited!" Oak's voice lowered slightly. "...although I'm sure it'll be up on ChuTube in a matter of hours. Trainers, are you ready?"
Wallace flourished his cape and laughed. "The question isn't whether I'm ready. The question is if everyone else here is prepared to be marvelled by the beauty of my Pokemon!"
Green wasn't amused. "Quit the showboating and fight. No one came to see you dance around in tights and a cape!" Steven sighed, caught Red's eye, and shrugged. Partners could be stupid sometimes.
Oak shrugged. "I'll take that as a yes then. Game on!"
His grandson smirked. "Charizard, let's rock this bitch!" The orange lizard burst from its Pokeball, smoke shooting out of its nostrils.
Wallace gasped. "Such profane language! Children are watching this performance! Milotic, take the stage! Show this ruffian your elegant charm!" With a shower of bubbles, the Tender Pokemon came forth. Red noted with some disgust that it's Pokeball was covered in seals.
Steven rolled his eyes at his partner's theatrics. "Metagross, go." The Steel-Psychic type came forth simply, and stared at the other two Pokemon.
As for Red... "Pikachu." The mouse hopped down from it's perch on Red's shoulder and ran next to Charizard. This would be one hell of a fight.
Unsurprisingly, Green was the first to issue a command. "Flamethrower!" Charizard complied, blasting a stream of white hot flame towards the Metagross.
Wallace jumped to action. "Milotic, take the hit, then use Recover!" The serpentine pokemon instantly uncoiled and sprang forth, taking the brunt of Charizard's Flamethrower. As could be expected, it did minimal damage to the water type, but the red tinge taken on by the struck areas showed that it had been burned. Milotic glowed briefly, restoring the initial damage from the attack, but winced in pain seconds later.
Steven was the next to take the offensive, ordering a Psychic attack. The Iron Leg Pokemon's eyes shone with a blue light, and a concussive force seemed to strike Pikachu from out of nowhere. The mouse shook its head and grinned; it would take far more than that to knock it out. For the sake of the audience, Red elected to actually state his command: "Volt Tackle."
Pikachu ran forth, lighting crackeling from his cheeks. As it sped up, the lighting expanded, and enveloped his entire body. With a cry that sounded like thunder, the mouse slammed into the Milotic with all of it's strength. The Water type winced, and collapsed, unconscious.
Wallace sputtered something incoherent as he recalled his Pokemon. His partner shrugged. "Typical. Metagross, it's up to us now. Pikachu's taken a lot of damage between your Psychic and its own Volt Tackle. Let's finish it off quickly. Earthquake."
The Iron Leg Pokemon slammed a steel claw into the ground, cracking the entire battle field. The force of the tremors damaged the electric type enough, but the chunks of earth they caused to fly out did the real damage. With a squeal, Pikachu fainted.
Green groaned, and patted Red on the shoulder. "Don't worry dude. We still got this. Since you got Captain Fabulous out of the way, it's just Charizard and Metagross now." Red nodded. He himself may have been out of the fight, but Green would be able to handle the rest.
And handle it he did. The two Pokemon stared at each other, waiting for their opponent to make the first move. Finally, Steven spoke. "Shadow Ball." The pseudo-legendary gave a breif nod, before it opened it's mouth. With an odd buzzing, a dark purple sphere of energy shot forth, smacking Charizard in the stomach. The starter roared in pain, while his trainer commanded a Smokescreen.
Black smoke billowed forth from Charizards nostrils, clouding the entire arena. Steven, however, would have none of that. "Psychic." From within the obscured battlefield came yet another roar of pain; obviously Metagross's attack had hit.
Red frowned. Charizard had already taken a lot of damage, and being hit with a STABed Psychic wasn't anything near pleasent. Green, however, seemed completely unphased. In fact, the former Kanto Champion was laughing. "Just as planned. Charizard, let's go. Blaze!"
The area was still surrounded by black smoke, but from within the center shone an immensely powerful light. Slowly, the light grew to the shape and size of Green's Charizard, before expanding rapidly into a firey aura."Now. Blast Burn!"
The smoke cleared as Charizard flapped its wings. The blazing aura surrounding its body was sucked into it's mouth, which closed with a snap as the Charizard's eyes began to glow red. The fire on its tail grew rapidly before shrinking into a tiny white flame. With a single roar, the largest stream of fire Red had ever seen blazed forth, directly towards the Psychic type. There was a blinding flash, a deafening roar, and then...
The light dimmed. Red stared in awe at the scorched arenea, and the completely unconscious Metagross. Smoke issued from its now red hot body. Nodding, Steven recalled his Pokemon. "Good job."
Three hours later, back in Pallet Town, Red sat at his computer, thinking. The battle had gone well, he couldn't deny that. The Kanto team had won, meaning that they would host the next month's National League. That'd keep most of the people he knew happy, but Red himself couldn't be bothered. Another league was another league. He'd be expected to enter, and expected to win. Really, after all the years, he'd have rather have been out doing anything different. Maybe he'd give contests a try for a while. Those might provide a challenge.
Still... He didn't understand how he could be bored with battling after losing to Metagross. Clearly, the challenge was still there; that wasn't the problem. While Red would probably have trounced Steven in a single battle, that didn't change the fact that he had lost right then and there. Back in the old days, he had loved the entire experience of battling. Winning, losing, it all excited him, made him feel alive. But these days, it was like some dark tentacles from the deep had come and taken away the excitement. The spark was gone, and he didn't know why.