Prologue
Thousands of metres above the ground and hundreds of miles from the northeast of Pallet Town, a black haired boy sits at the peak of a freezing mountain, his clothes wet with snow. Absentmindedly, he lifts a thin hand and strokes the slumbering yellow mouse cozied up in his lap. As he stares into the distance, he attempts a sigh- but all that comes out is a hoarse grunt, his voice scratchy from neglect and disuse. He instead sighs with the only way he knows now, with the dimming of his red eyes and a heavy drop of his shoulders. He gingerly cradles the sleeping Pikachu and gets up, shuffling back towards his cave with a weariness that his former self would never have had.
Red can't remember the last time he's been in human company. It seemed to him that this mountain and the constant blizzard had always been- something that was endless and unrelenting. As he cranes his head in thought, he wonders if he can even remember sunshine and heat, or how his mother looked on Saturday mornings when she made pancakes and omelettes for him. All that consumes his thoughts these days was the confident, golden eyed boy who had approached him several weeks ago, claiming he was Johto's new League Champion and asking for a battle. Red remembered wondering if this cocky newcomer had a death wish, and had gone into battle expecting an easy victory. After all, it wouldn't have been the first time a challenger had climbed the mountain, called himself unbeatable, and was trounced in five minutes flat.
Then this young hotshot had wiped out all his pokemon within fifteen minutes, leaving many of them with severe wounds and stripping him of his title as the ultimate champion.
Red hadn't known what to do with himself. For this young trainer had stripped him of not only his title, but also his honour, pride, and self-respect. For weeks afterward, he had slacked on his training and slipped into a listless state, unable to come to terms with his defeat. He had patched up his pokemon as best as he could, but he lacked the skills and medicine to heal them correctly. As a result, several of them still had marks of deep gashes across their backs, or walked with limps, or had come down with fevers. Of course he had considered going back to society and taking them to a Pokemon Centre, but how was he supposed to tell everyone that he, the invincible Red, had lost? He laughed humorlessly, but no sound came out.
Red hung his head and sat down heavily on the floor of his cave, taking a tattered blanket off a makeshift shelf and wrapping the yellow rodent firmly in it. After making sure Pikachu was comfortable, he took the other pokeballs from his waist and turned them over and over, accessing them. Burn marks, splotches of dried blood, dents and claw marks adorned them- and the pokemon inside were in no better condition. Was that really the same strong, triumphant team that had proudly strode into the Hall of Fame after defeating the Elite Four? These pokemon were wrecks- dishevelled, wounded and haggard version of their former selves. Red knew of the pain they were in every moment of the day, and his conscience smote him as he thought of all the suffering they endured for him.
Maybe I should get off this mountain, he thought. After all, without his title, without his pride as a trainer, without his honour, he was nothing. What more could the mountain hold for him?
I'll go back tomorrow, he continued. I'll stay with Green or Leaf for a few days to rest the pokemon, and then I'll go back to Pallet Town.
Thinking of Green and Leaf, his two best friends, gave him a strange ache in his chest. A pang of longing. His dim memory conjours up images of the three of them as kids, swearing they'd be the best trainers Kanto had ever seen. Pictures of them in Oak's lab, battling each other with their newly obtained pokemon, fill his head. He remembers the sound of Green's young, arrogant voice, declaring that he'd surpass Red for sure. But he brushes away the memories, lays back on the floor of the cave, and shuts his eyes.
As Red is about to drift off to sleep, a familiar voice pierces the night.
"Red?! Where the hell are you?!"
The voice is muffled and vastly overpowered by the blizzard, but Red caught it.
"Red?"
"It's Green!"
For a moment, Red bolts upright and peers outside the cave, a tiny shimmer of excitement lighting his dull eyes. Then, he drops his eyes and lays back on the floor, curling himself into a ball.
It's just another hallucination, Red tells himself. Go to sleep. It'll be gone in the morning.
The last thing Red remembers before he drops off to sleep is a dark shadow carrying a furry brown bundle, blocking the mouth of the cave.