A curious boy from Pallet Town.

That's who Red was.

Just a curious boy from Pallet Town, ready to set off into the world with a feisty Charmander at his side. Ready to escape the boring town he called home and become a legendary champion. Ready to take the first small step into the tall grass - the step that began everything.

The boy whose decisions were often impassive and logical, but whose heart burned with ferocity matched by no other. The boy who loved and cared for his Pokémon dearly, doing all in his power to train them correctly. The boy who beat me at every battle - all the way until the end - because of his skill and his love. The Legendary Champion.

That's who Red was.

Now, he's just a lonely boy. A lonely boy atop a tall, cold mountain.

Three years ago - that's when this began. We were both eleven. We weren't always rivals; it wasn't until we first saw each other in Professor Oak's lab that our fight for greatness began. Oak, my grandfather, had three Pokémon to give away and had invited me to come and choose one. Little did I know that he would be there - Red, my childhood friend, a scrawny little black-haired kid who I hadn't spoken nicely towards since we were both pretty young. He chose the Charmander - obviously the strongest; Red was always one for logic - and I chose the Squirtle, a little unhappy with my choice but determined to do anything to win the upper hand against Red. From the moment I saw him in the lab, poring over which Pokémon he would snatch up, I knew we would be rivals. Against each other until the end. Our brief friendship was a distant memory, replaced by a passion to beat the shit out of him in every battle.

"Wait, Red! Let's check out our Pokémon! Come on, I'll take you on!"

"Uh, sure. I bet I'll beat you, though!"

Red grinned broadly, and his ruby red eyes seemed to flicker, like flame.

I smiled back, though more menacingly (I hoped) and pressed the button on my new Pokéball- a bright flash of white temporarily blinded me, but when it faded a Squirtle stood in front of me, ready and raring. I was so excited.

But Red stuck true to his words - I lost my very first Pokémon battle. With both Pokémon pretty weak I chalked it up to luck that Red had beaten me. He was so pleased, though, the damn smartass. I was determined then to get stronger - losing to a little kid like Red burnt like acid on my tongue. I remember every second of my first Pokémon battle, but the thrill of fighting didn't quite put out the fire that losing caused. Afterwards, I set out ahead of him.

We shared more battles as the year went on, but Red was somehow always a step ahead of me. Every battle I would be the one that appeared the strongest, with more training under my belt and more experienced Pokémon at my side. But every time the little fucker beat me. Hard. For a long time, I was resentful and jealous.

But then our dynamic began to change. Or, at least mine did. No longer was I eagerly awaiting the next chance I could have to crush him. Instead, I began to be excited just to see him. Happy to challenge him, not nearly as bitter when I lost (which was always). I began to notice things about Red that made him so cool - almost subconsciously.

Red had this certain grace about him. Whenever he moved, it was sometimes like smooth, calm waves, but other times it was like tails of bright fire. He flowed.

Red also always seemed to know what the right answer was to something. He would ponder a decision for less than a few seconds, and he would have it - the right path to take. This in particular was what probably gave him an advantage over me in battle.

Although Red was always striving to be logical and mathematic about things, he was at heart an optimist. He would always look on the bright side of things - it was just in his nature. I always thought it fit well with my rather care-free view on life.

I'm not sure when the change began, or how, or why. But it was almost as if my very purpose in life had shifted. Instead of wanting to beat Red, I just wanted to be around him. I was confused about this for a long time. Who, in the history of forever, was happy to see their rival? Sure, friendly competition was welcomed for most people, but I wouldn't say that anyone was exactly glad to see the person that beat them at their own game every single fucking time.

So why was I?

I hated to think of the answer. No matter how great Red was, no matter how much I wanted to see him, no matter how many times I lost to him but still had a fucking smile on my face because Red was so damn happy, he was still my rival.

Or was he my friend? I think he was my very best friend - the one that always stuck with me, even after every bitter battle. Could that have even happened? Did I let my guard down enough for that tiny bastard to worm his way into friendship position?

Maybe. Or maybe it was more than that.

Damn, this is when my head starts to hurt. It's been three years since I've seen Red and I'm still confused to hell about what we were.

And I say were. Because then I became champion.

All of the glorious visions in my head, ones I've had since childhood, of standing tall and proud above all other trainers had finally become true. I was the best. The best of the best. Number one himself! And when Red came along, I smiled with the joy that the title of champion brought me, and challenged him to a battle I knew in my heart I would win with ease.

But after every Pokémon had been sent out, after I had exhausted every move and tactic that I possessed, after I finally let go of the tiny shard of hope that I had been holding onto that maybe he would slip up, that maybe I could still beat him, the battle was over.

I felt like I had been stabbed in the heart by the boy who was my best friend. Nothing in my entire life had been more painful than to watch Red take my place.

How long had I been champion - a few days? I must have held the title for the shortest time ever on record. I was humiliated. I bled from the stab wound in my heart like a river. My purpose as a Pokémon trainer was draining away. And so was my friendship with Red. I never exactly let him know the extent I was hurt by my loss - what difference would it make? It would have only made me look more pathetic than I already felt.

Afterwards, I took my place at Viridian City's gym, a low position compared to my last. He moved up to Mt. Silver soon after winning, and he stayed up there alone, training for Arceus knows why. He came to visit his friends every once and a while over the next few years, but he and I never really spoke. I saw him maybe once or twice when he came to Viridian, but he mostly stayed out of my way. I knew he could tell I was still mad.

There's not any cell service on Mt. Silver. I've often wondered if that's really a blessing in disguise - I'm not sure how much I trust myself to talk to Red these days. All the shit that's been bottled up inside of me - shame and bitterness over being usurped, painful pangs of longing for the very person that usurped me - it's been a bit too much. My naturally confident and abrasive nature had begun to fade over the last two years. As Red and I slipped away, I grew from a loud and cocky thirteen year old to a reserved and sullen fifteen year old; an unwelcome change in every aspect.

Every day I think of Red. I know that sound trite and bullshitty, but it's true. Honestly, he never leaves my mind. During gym battles in Viridian I often let my mind wander back to our battles - how Red had a quality that no other trainer I've ever battled has possessed. How he fought with a ferocity that burned bright, how there was a fiery grace in every one of his moves. How his Pokémon adored him. They seemed to almost be extensions of him; they worked so naturally with him, heeding his every command.

I wonder a lot if he misses me. Again, trite and bullshitty. But true nonetheless.

Honestly, the reason for my increasingly reserved nature is much less losing championship status than having Red ripped out of my life as well. It's like the stab wound in my heart refused to heal, and I've been just bleeding dry for the last three years. I'm well aware that my feelings go beyond friendly rivalry. I'd hazard a guess that they go beyond friendship, even best friendship, as well.

And my head is hurting again because no matter how many times I try to deny it no logical explanation exists for caring so much about the person you'd sworn to take down.

Except for maybe one.

Maybe you're in love with them.

Maybe I'm in love with Red.