He'd defeated all the gyms in Johto, just coming short of the ultimate goal of the League. Anyone who'd gotten in his way, he'd pulverize with the power of his "tools", calling them such despite the arguments of a girl and a certain Dragon Tamer.

Any kind of challenge, and he'd immediately make the most of the opportunity; no matter if big or small, possible or seemingly impossible, he'd jump on it.

No, I can't take one more step towards you,
'cause all that's waiting is regret..

Yet, upon receiving the challenge of facing the gym of Viridian City, the red-haired boy refused. He could almost imagine the still-intact statue of the ex-gym leader, the man who "raised" him, sitting upon a pedestal. Even seeing the building from the outside made his chest ache, immediately void, and his heart empty.

With a pang in his heart, he walked away from the only challenge he refused to tackle.

And don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore?

And even as he walked, he wouldn't admit how weak his choice was. He still couldn't face his fear; he didn't want to be remembered as the only son of a major underground organization, a ghost of what he used to be. He didn't want to be like him.

You lost the love I loved the most.
I learned to live, half alive, and now you want me one more time.

And just when he learned to live half alive, without the support of someone who loved him, he figured it was time to try to conquer the League once more. Stepping into the giant building with royal-red carpet and statues everywhere, the red-haired boy felt confident with his skill and himself, until she showed up. The futile attempt of trust and love reared its ugly head once more, and the gray-eyed, red-haired boy couldn't bear it.

Yet, with the sight of her overly-giant, marshmallow-like hat, her cherry-red shirt, and the goofy sight of her denim overalls and thigh-high stockings, along with the foolish, happy-go-lucky smile on her face, the boy could feel his face grow hot, and a flip in his stomach. With the sight of her clear, happy eyes, he forgot where he was for a moment, only to find that reality would catch up with him in a split second.

Although he'd never admit it, he didn't know why.

And who do you think you are, running 'round leaving scars,
Collecting your jar of hearts, and tearing love apart?

And all he could do when Kotone addressed him was look away and hide his eyes, because she knew how to look and find the flaws in one's soul, trying to mend the scars of those who were hurt. He didn't need her to help him mend his lonely heart…

…because that would be weak.

You're gonna catch a cold…

When he figured it safe to look up, he'd look at her; her face, deep in thought of the current situation yet, filled with worry: worry for his being. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that his heart was freezing up; empty and cold right now, it would only turn to ice…

…from the ice inside your soul

..without her help.

Yet, at that moment, seeing that he was at an advantage by not seeing her eyes, he took hold of the opportunity at hand.

"Hold it," he'd say, reverting back to his cold demeanor. His sudden change in tone would make her look up, curiously. "You're going to have to give up that dream of yours. Right here, right now, I challenge you."

And of course, seeing the determined look on his face, her whole expression would change, nodding, to signal she was ready. That worried look on her face disappeared, replaced by a confident, strong face, telling him that she wouldn't back down.

He wouldn't lose to her, a mere girl, who was younger than her on top of that. He wouldn't lose to a child like his father had. HE would never be as weak and helpless as HIM. And at first, everything was going out well, for he managed to keep himself ahead of his opponent…

….until he came face-to-face with her giant, blue and red walking alligator, otherwise known as there, it all went downhill. Even his own starter was knocked out by the creature, although he knew he had a type advantage.

Watching his last hope crash to the ground, unconscious, he couldn't help but fall to his own knees.

"..Oh no…," he'd say, desperately to no one, "I-I still can't win, even after all that training…" By this time after the battle, he'd be able to hear his rival's footsteps, inching closer to his place on the ground. "I-I have to believe in them more…" And after that, the warmth of his rival's hand became evident on his shoulder as she attempted to comfort him.

"If it makes you feel better," she'd say, "you're definitely stronger than you were last time!"

So don't come back for me,

The happiness in her voice made him cringe; of course, she had the right to be happy, filled with relief; she had won. Finally looking up, the boy jerked his arm away from her touch, ignoring the lonely feeling he felt immediately afterwards. Getting up and brushing off his pants, he avoided her concerned gaze.

"No big deal. Sorry to have gotten in the way." '..again'

"…Silver, wait."

And as easily as she had said it, the boy froze; the way she spoke his name, concerned, soft, made him stop and ponder and bathe in the feeling that overcame him when he heard her say it. Yet, it was always for a mere moment.

"In the meantime," he muttered, trying his best not to sound clingy, dependent, "don't follow me. And don't come back for me."

Don't come back at all.

Turning around and leaving her speechless, Silver had cringed at the way he spoke to her.

And who do you think you are,

Wiping his now-sweaty hands on his black sweater, his eyes widened as, for a split second, his hands seemed to age.

Running 'round leaving scars,

Forcing himself to look down at the stairs in front of him, and not back, he could have sworn that the hair that hit his face was black instead of red.

and tearing love apart?

Tears welled up in his eyes as he somehow saw himself dressed in different clothes; the clothing of the ever-notorious underground society, with a large red "R" stamped near his heart.

You're gonna catch a cold, from the ice inside your soul.

And the first thing that came to contact with his hand when he reached inside his pocket was a handkerchief. THE handkerchief, with his own name neatly embroidered, that his father had given him. After all these years, he still held it in his hands.

Don't come back for me,

His eyes widened, as he dropped the piece of fabric in his hands. The way he traveled his life was wrong, the way he treated his partners were all too similar…

…the way he spoke to her, rejected her, this whole time…made him wince.

The way he tossed the idea of "love" over his shoulder, the way he scoffed at the idea of "friends", and the way he didn't care what happed to others, threw him to his knees once again. What hit him was that he didn't need to look like his father to live the same way he did.

Inside, he was becoming just like him.

Don't come back at all.

Down on all fours, he wasn't surprised to hear hurried footsteps run towards him.

She didn't care what he became.

Who do you think you are?

Shoulders shaking, tears falling to the ground, he knew the fear that he wanted to avoid finally caught up with him.

"Silver!"

Who do you think you are?

He was the weak one the whole time; he needed someone to hold him and care for him now, since he never had it then. He needed that warmth and support that he never had before. Broken down, he was a lonely boy who cried because of the fact that the cold feeling inside was getting stronger, worse. This time, it actually hurt.

Who do you think...

And as quickly as it had consumed his body, it had gone. The warmth of the girl, his rival, Kotone, being there, made him flinch; it was an unfamiliar feeling. And when he got used to the warmth of her arms, of her comforting embrace, he relaxed.

He finally relaxed.

…you are?