A/n These can be read separately or as a whole. There will be sixteen drabbles altogether to illustrate these two parallels. These take place in the Diamond and Pearl gameverse. Please review.
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.
Everything empty
He watched her, always. She was amazing, even he had to admit. She had been young when he'd first met her, but then, so was he. He'd always known she'd amount to something. What, though, was undetermined until now. 'So now, you're a champion. I see.' He would soon become a champion too, but in a far different sense.
They would be opposites, intertwined always, so wholly different, but unmistakably parallel. 'Parallel . . . we shall never meet, it seems.' Yes, they were too utterly the same for each other's differences. They should, hypothetically, not be able to have any sort of relationship at all, aside from the one of hero and villain.
'So she shall be the hero, the wonderful, amazing, powerful hero. And I am to be the lowly, twisted, foolish foe, for which there is no redemption.' For a moment, he is scared. Scared that perhaps it is to be his fate. 'But no. I am no villain.' Some nagging voice inside says that if he is no enemy to her, then she is not a hero. 'That does not define it, that word, hero. She defines it, or at least, to me.'
The voice inside stays loud and impertinent. He has no choice but to shut out the thought altogether.
He is empty.
She knew he was aware of what she'd become. He always was. She'd met him when they were young, so full of life, even him with his odd mannerisms and cold countenance. He'd been drained of that somewhere along the line, somehow. Now, he had his goals, and they were his life. It was an unfulfilling life, to say the least. It would end sad and alone.
She often considered that in sorrow.
They were opposites. She knew that. He knew that. Everyone else in the world had no inkling of the friendship the two had once had; the bond they'd shared. He'd hacked away at it until she couldn't hold it together anymore. But there was still a strand of what had been.
'They call me the hero. That's what I'm supposed to be. I cannot exceed their expectations, nor even match them. I am merely human. They want more of me than there is.' She doesn't like where this is headed. Some nagging voice inside reminds her that this was what she wanted. She had to cut all ties to her town's traditions for that, and that was no small feat. 'It's too much for me. He'd understand. He's the only one I can think of that would.'
But that voice says he's the villain. The night to her day. The red to her white. It makes her stop. It makes her wonder.
She is empty.