Mt. Silver was unforgiving, icy, enraged and always howling. Red, in a bout of snowed-in restlessness, had once compared it to a tantrum that never ended. At the very least, it was familiar. It was like home. In an extremely bizarre sort of way, Red wondered if that was what having a child was like—whiny and frustrating but lovable somehow.
There was a crunch in the snow behind him. One of his Pokémon must be going back in the warmer caves, he thought, not moving. He ruminated a little more on silly metaphors he would forget in an hour, if only to pass the time.
Suddenly there was a clap on his shoulder and a noisy, intrusive "Heya, Red!"
Red jolted with a soundless screech of surprise, whirling around. His face had already been colored by the cold, but now he was properly fitting his name.
Unwilling to say anything, he just glared heatedly at his—by its loosest definition—friend, Green. He was covered in the attire one should be wearing on a mountain's peak; a puffy jacket, scarf, hat, and gloves. Green's visits had become regular, but he usually gave more warning that he was arriving (usually in the form of cursing so loudly at the cold Red could hear him from a mile away). Green waved, wide grin still in place.
"Sorry, did I spook you?" he asked innocently. Red kept his angry stare and Green hardly flinched. "Come on, I climbed all the way up here for you. I have an offer you just can't refuse."
Red raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. His Pikachu scampered up onto his shoulder, watching Green curiously.
"So, I've been thinking," Green started, examining his nails—he has gloves on, why is he even pretending to do that—with an airy indifference. "You've been stuck up here on the peak of Mt. Silver for, I don't know, forever, and I was thinking that you need a vacation."
Red swiftly shook his head. Besides, he wasn't stuck on this mountain. He was completely here of his own volition. Not seeing the need to explain this, he turned around, assuming their one-sided conversation was over.
"Hey! Hold on, I'm not done. This isn't just any vacation, we've been invited to Alola! And the tickets have already been bought, so you can't refuse. See?" Green smirked proudly.
Red flushed again, pulling his hat down to cover his eyes. They'd…been invited? And the tickets were already bought? Now if he refused he wouldn't just be a wet towel, he'd be an active jerk.
"There's like, so many Pokémon there, Red. Hundreds. Like, hundreds plural. Remember when we thought there were only a hundred and fifty-one?" Green tapped the side of his head. "Yeah, well there's like, eight hundred now, and I know you love Pokémon."
Red hesitated. That did sound like a lot of Pokémon, and Red had only made the company of his own and the few that lived on the mountain. He glanced at his friends still curled around him, and they made eye contact. They seemed to like the idea, but Red still felt hesitant.
"You can't just sit on top of a mountain forever, Red. Alola will be sunny and warm and totally the opposite of this…hell-frozen-over mountain." Emphasizing this with a shiver, Green looked at him pleadingly. Red frowned and glanced at Pikachu, still sitting on his shoulder. The small creature gave an affirmative cheer. If his Pokémon wanted to, who was he to say otherwise?
He faced Green and gave what qualified as a nod: a short bob that went vaguely downwards. Green's face lit up like the sun.
"Yes! You won't regret this, Red, I am telling you. We've already got this place booked—'s called the Battle Tree—and you're gonna meet champions of all the other regions, like the Sinnoh region's Champ, you have to see her—"
Red already felt overwhelmed. Years of staring at snow made meeting other people sound like a daunting task. But Green was already grabbing his hand and dragging him down to the inner caves of Mt. Silver. Defeated, Red recalled his Pokémon into their Pokéballs and allowed himself to be tugged further down what he'd considered home.
Airports were unendingly loud and bright.
Red had never guessed at the multitude of things you had to do before entering the actual flight. Luggage checking, passport checking, waiting, more waiting. It wouldn't have been as bad if he weren't the champion of Kanto and all that. He kept getting wide-eyed looks, and several times people came to talk to him.
Luckily, Green had found some well-hidden seats in the corner of the waiting room that kept Red from getting too frazzled. He was bad with noise on the best of days.
"Excuse me, mister, are you Red?"
Red startled, snapping out of his reverie. Green looked up from the brochure he'd been reading. There was a young, teenage girl standing in front of him, holding her backpack straps tightly, eyes the size of dinner plates.
Red hesitated a second too long, an awkward silence stretching out. Then he gave a sharp nod and turned his eyes back to his feet.
"Really?! Can I see your Pokémon?! I've always dreamed of meeting you, see, but I could never get a ticket to Kanto and now I'm moving to Hoenn and I can't believe I'm really—"
"Hey, slow down," Green piped up, and Red practically sighed in relief. "Red hasn't done Pokémon battles in a while. Me, though…"
And suddenly the girl's attention switched to him. Once she identified him as the famous Professor Oak's grandson, she excitedly listened to his tales of exploring the Kanto region. Red watched until the girl's parents called her back; they eyed him curiously, not seeming to know exactly who he was. Green waved and went back to his brochure.
Red tugged on Green's shirt and smiled. Green stared at him as if he'd grown a second head, eyebrow raised in confusion. Red faltered, then tried again. He gestured towards the direction the girl had went and smiled once more.
Finally getting it, Green laughed. "Oh, that? No need to thank me. Having fangirls is part of my job, Red." he leaned back into his chair, hands meeting on the back of his head. "Being a former Champ and all."
Red nodded and continued to stare at the patterned floor.
When they got in line for the plane, the amount of noise and people swelled. Sometimes Red got jostled and pushed, and the heat of so many people was distinctly unappealing after so long on an icy mountain. His fingers itched to hold Pikachu, but he couldn't just clutch it like a teddy bear in public—and besides, there wasn't any room to throw down a Pokéball.
Apparently there had been an announcement that angered a few people; Red hadn't been paying attention, but suddenly there was arguing and more noise, and for a moment the desire for silence and howling gusts of wind overpowered anything else. Red pressed his hands to his ears and felt his heart stop pounding as the buzz of noise quieted to just a hum. Someone poked his shoulder and he flinched—it almost hurt, with how frayed his senses felt.
"Red," came an uncharacteristically quiet voice. "Red, they want our tickets."
Startling, Red pulled away his hands to see quite a few odd looks. His face flushed and he pulled down his hat to cover his face, pressing his hands in his pockets. He thought he'd learned from a young age that doing that was socially unacceptable, and now he was just attracting more attention than before. He handed his ticket to the attendant, of course, without a word.
The plane was far more bearable. It was cramped and on the arid side, but the noise was a dull buzz of people talking under the whir of mechanics. Red leaned back into his chair.
"Welcome aboard PokéFly Airlines, we're pleased you're flying with us today. This is a direct flight from Kanto to Alola, it should last about eight hours. Please make sure your electronic devices are on Airplane Mode, your seatbelt is fastened, and your tray is secured. It is about 4pm and the temperature outside is twenty-four degrees Celsius. We hope you have a good flight!"
The whir of machinery suddenly got far louder, much to Red's surprise. Green gave him a sideways glance and grinned.
"First time on a plane?" he asked. Red gave a small nod. His trip from Kanto to Johto had been years ago, and that had been by ship. Green laughed. "Well, it's a good thing you have a window seat! Trust me, it's nothing like flying on a Pokémon." Red didn't know how to silently respond to that, so he just nodded and stared out his window as the plane began to drive.
Red wasn't afraid of heights, living on a mountain and all, but he couldn't help but notice how clammy his palms where when the plane began driving faster, whirring and clicking.
Then they were off, and Red couldn't conceal a gasp of surprise. The sudden weightlessness pulled him down and he gripped the armrests, stunned. Green was glancing at him from the corner of his eye, face unreadable. It felt like free falling without the tearing wind. He couldn't help it when his heart started to pound.
"Hey, Red," Green piped up. "Listen to this."
Green handed him some of the plane's packaged earbuds, and Red unwrapped them—he flushed in embarrassment when he noticed that his hands were very obviously shaking. Green unceremoniously plugged them into his phone and let Red put the headphones in.
It was…ambiance of some sort. Wind. And yet the sound of it immediately calmed him down. Green pulled out one of the earbuds.
"It's a sort of a white noise app, it's calming. I thought you'd like the wind one. 'Cause you live on a mountain."
Red smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. He really only remembered Green as the teasing rival, smell ya later, and the like. Even after he'd bought tickets to Alola and kept crowds away did it really strike Red what Green was doing for him. He should…he should say something. To show he's thankful. It'd be rude to stay silent.
His nervousness came back in full force as he tucked a lock of hair up into his hat. He opened his mouth and willed something to come out.
"You're welcome," Green interrupted before Red could say anything, then pulled out one of the plane's magazines and opened it up.
Red smiled and put the headphone back in.
Green had since fallen asleep, but Red was glued to his window. They were…above clouds. It felt like he could reach down and grab them. He didn't realize he was grinning like an idiot until his cheeks were hurting.
He'd been staring for who knew how long—he didn't have a way of documenting time, thanks to all the timezone switches—and suddenly the clouds cleared and he was staring at a mountain range slicing a region in half. Red blinked twice in amazement. He leaned over and tugged Green's shirt, not taking his eyes away.
"Wha…? We land yet?" Green mumbled blearily. Red tugged more insistently and pointed at the window. "What? Oh, hey. That's the Sinnoh region."
It was beautiful—it looked nothing like Kanto or Johto, with its mountainous terrain, but similar at the same time; same shades of brown, gray, and green.
"You've never been there?" Green asked, sounding surprised and somewhat curious. Red frowned at the floor. He'd only been to Kanto and Johto, and once to Unova for some sort of championship thing. "You really ought to go sometime. It's pretty and chock-full of mythology and stuff." Green waved a hand. "Now wake me up when we get to Alola. And not when you see Kalos. Kalos is beautiful and all, but I've seen it."
Red rolled his eyes and resumed sticking his face to the window.
Jet lag was a frustratingly unique experience in that Red felt like his head was made of fluff and molasses.
"Red, I know you haven't slept in whatever many hours and it's unfairly hot here, but just remember time's not really real and your body doesn't know what it's talking about. That has helped me stay awake on many nights. We just have to make it to the Battle Tree." Red startled for possibly the 5th time, rubbing one eye. "Jeez, did you not get any sleep on the flight or something?"
Red met eye contact for a second and looked away. Green sighed. "No wonder you're falling asleep on your feet. Come on, lets find a taxi." Red couldn't help but wish he was on Mt. Silver.
Awkwardness wiped away by his exhaustion, Red reached over and tapped Green's watch.
"That won't work," Green said without missing a beat. "I haven't fixed it to Alola's time yet."
Red shook his head and tapped it again.
"What, you want to know what time it is here?" Green hesitated, pulling out his phone. "Um, it's five AM here, and twelve AM in Kanto." Red blinked, slightly confused. There was only a five hour time difference? "And if you're wondering, it's the previous day here. We kind of traveled back in time. Cool, huh?"
Red's internal clock did not find it very cool. In fact, it felt like if he stood still for longer than a second he'd pass out.
Somewhere in the blurring of minutes they found a taxi. The driver didn't attempt conversation, and the normally-talkative Green looked about as tired as Red felt.
"Red?" he asked midway through. "Can you still…talk?"
Red jumped, instantly alert. Green also looked similarly surprised. "Oh, sorry, I didn't…actually mean to say that."
It's okay, he thought. He just nodded and looked out his window.
"You can? Alright." Green bobbed his head, as if in consideration, before also turning to watch Alola rush by.
Red remembered the day he stopped talking with stunning clarity.
He had always had trouble with speaking; he could be as loud and witty and stubborn as he wanted at home, but for some reason he froze when speaking to other kids. The words would choke him as he imagined his voice crack or waver and the kids' laughter and the embarrassment. Green was different. Green was his friend. He could speak to Green perfectly fine—but not if someone was near. It was like he was afraid to be heard. Being heard meant being noticed. The idea was supposed to be a normal part of everyday life, but the thought terrified Red.
Then Green hung out with other kids who had the thought that Red was ridiculous, crazy, stupid. They called him words he wouldn't (couldn't) repeat. They spoke of him as if he couldn't hear. Their parents said he was a rude child who ignored everyone. And slowly, Green stopped hanging out with him too.
His mother always saw it as shyness he would soon grow out of. After all, he spoke easily and clearly to her, so he must just be a socially awkward kid. And Red thought so, too. Until it became increasingly clear that Red was more than shy: he literally couldn't speak to strangers. Even if it was awkward for him. Even if it created problems. Even if it was ridiculous, he could not talk.
Then he turned eleven and got Pikachu. Pikachu reminded him of playing with Green as a toddler. He could speak to Pikachu like he could speak to his mother, and sometimes it felt like Pikachu could do the same. That made two living beings on the planet Red could stand to communicate with.
Then he became champion.
His Pokémon journey had required surprisingly little communication. Eye contact, battle, no words needed. But Champion was a title. Red had been too naïve. He thought "champion" meant "strongest trainer in the region". And it did, to an extent. What it really meant, however, was "poster boy of the League". Of what the region had to offer. He was the youngest Champion ever and now everyone wanted to speak with him, to interview him, to ask him questions he couldn't answer. It was horribly miserable and Red couldn't believe this had ever been his goal.
The fateful day he left for Mt. Silver was gray and faded, but he could recall it.
Green strolled into his chamber, hands in his pockets and an air of absolute irritation around him.
"So now what is it?" Green growled. "You send me a letter telling me to come to you. You couldn't come to Viridian City yourself? You know I have a gym now, right? I had to beat the whole Elite Four over again—it wasn't hard, obviously—"
Red had to wonder. Why did people talk so much? How did words flow so easily from their mouths about things of so little importance? Red cleared his throat.
"I want you to be Champion," he whispered, confident that nobody else could hear him. And he…trusted Green, in a way. Trusted him to always be the same. Always a jerk. Always sneering and teasing. He wasn't a friend, per se, but Red could at least say what he needed to with him. Whether or not Red's voice came out stupid and dumb, Green would judge him either way, so what did it matter?
Green trailed off immediately, blinking twice in shock. Of course, Green hadn't heard Red speak since they were little kids. "I…don't like it here," Red continued softly. "I want to…go somewhere else. I've finished the Pokédex here, I've become Champion, there's nothing else I want to do but…explore."
Red waited for a reaction. At first, Green still looked completely dumbfounded. Then his face twisted in rage.
"You—you beat me after I came here, shamed me in front of Gramps, didn't even give me time to get in the Hall of Fame," Green said slowly. "And now you're just…you're not even challenging me. You're just—giving me the title. Just letting me win. Out of, what, the goodness of your heart?!" Green's fist clenched and he moved forward to grip Red's collar. Like lightning, Pikachu rushed out from behind Red and growled, electricity spurting from its cheeks. Green retracted his hand, instead glaring furiously at Red, who averted his eyes.
"Of course I'll fight you," Red explained quickly, hands instinctively fiddling with his cap. "I can't just transfer the title without a—"
"But you'll let me win. I won't really be Champion. You'll just lose without caring. I don't want a pity win, Red. I'm becoming Champion because I earned it, and not because you decided it's boring. It's a privilege, you know? You're famous, and I'm…not. So whatever. You can stay Champion. I'll beat you when you're ready to fight me."
It was Red's turn to be shocked. Green always wanted to be Champion, and now he was turning the title down because Red was giving it to him? Did his pride really matter that much?
Red's fist tightened. If Green, the strongest trainer Red knew, didn't want to take over…Red would just have to leave without a successor. Let the League find a new one. After all, he couldn't just waste the supplies he'd bought. Mt. Silver would be a difficult road. Red waited until Green left, then slung his backpack around his shoulders.
That was the last time he'd spoken face-to-face with anyone.
"Hey. I don't know if you're there. Your mom's worried sick. I think everyone else has kind of forgotten about you, though."
Red listened to the voicemail listlessly, staring out into the desolate sky outside the caves of Mt. Silver.
"So, if you're dead, then whatever. And if you're alive, I know you won't pick up. But I'm just saying—there's a strong trainer coming your way. And I mean really strong. They beat all the gyms in Johto, came to Kanto, beat all the gyms here—yeah, even me—and they're going to climb Mt. Silver next. Honestly, I think they have a chance. If anyone could find you, it'd be me, and they beat me. So. Yeah. Wherever the hell you are now, you can find them at that mountain. Call your mom to let her know you're okay, at least. If you are. Bye."
There was the sound of dead air on the other line, a crackling silence that teetered between "one more thing" and "never mind". Either way, whatever else Green planned on saying, he decided against it. An ambivalent beep ended the call.
Red smiled. He hadn't even said his traditional "smell ya later".
"Red, wake up."
Red mumbled tiredly, completely unwilling to open his eyes. The strange sensation of warmth, though, was unfamiliar enough that he at least rubbed at his face.
"We're here at the Battle Tree, come on. You snooze, you lose."
Red took a second to reorient himself. He was not on the precipices of Mt. Silver, rather in the tropical region of Alola. He blinked himself awake, squinting against the sunlight. He was still in the taxi, but Green was holding his door open for him, eyebrow expectantly raised.
Red flushed and pushed himself out, while Green enjoyed a small laugh at his expense. "There you are, Sleeping Beauty. Ready to start climbing?"
Climbing? Red shot Green a confused, bleary glance, to which Green answered by simply pointing up. Red followed his gesture and felt himself really wake up.
They were staying in a huge tree. Red had kind of assumed the "tree" part of "Battle Tree" was metaphorical, but it was definitely a bona-fide tree with leaves and branches. It reached towards the sky spectacularly.
"I was kind of planning on saying hi to some of the other Champs, but I'm about to fall asleep, so we might as well go. Normally, the best way to deal with jet lag is to wait it out and push through, but I am not gonna be able to stay awake for another twelve hours…"
Red allowed himself to be dragged up the many stairs of their new residence, while Green muttered through every step of the way—they have a huge tree-battle-spot, would it kill them to install an elevator?—until they finally reached their room.
"Here's your key. Your room is down the hall." Green waved him away and began to open his door.
Red blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He glanced at Green, then back at the key. Green was about to enter his room before he saw Red's face and squinted.
"You didn't think we'd share a room, did you?" his voice was incredulous. Red quickly shook his head, but Green was already grinning. "You did. Hah, that's funny. If you get lonely I'm right down here." Red made a clicking noise of irritation, but Green was waving him away. "Now if you excuse me, I'm gonna pass out on the couch for a couple of hours…"
Red hesitated, flushing at the thought of trying to voice his concerns without a voice. He pointed at his throat and then pointed vaguely down the hall, where he assumed his room was.
Green raised an eyebrow, frowning. "Um…is not talking linked to having your own room?"
Red nodded.
"No offense…but you can talk, though, right? You said as much, and I remember you being able to…"
Red looked away, nervously adjusting his hat. It was…incredibly hard to explain in charades. Red suddenly wished he had a pad of paper, or sign language, or something.
Once again reading his mind, Green held up a finger. "Hold on," he said, and disappeared into his room. He reappeared holding a pink, cutesy pad of paper decorated with some sort of Pokémon Red had never seen in his right hand, and a standard office pen in his left.
Red scribbled on the paper and handed it back to Green.
"Hard to talk to strangers," Green recited. He looked up at Red, down at the note, back to Red. "I'm not a stranger, though…?"
Red sighed. He gestured for the paper and wrote some more things. Room service. People knocking on the door. Challengers.
Green took the paper and his eyes lit up. "Oh, you're worried that you're gonna embarrass yourself. I mean, it's not like I'm paying for these rooms, so I guess it's fine if we share."
Red gave an inaudible sigh of relief. Now he wouldn't have to wordlessly communicate with anyone. This had absolutely nothing to do with the way his body shivered at the thought of being alone in a new place, and it certainly, one-hundred percent had nothing to do with the fluttery sensation he felt at the thought of seeing Green every morning.
For the first time in years, Red opened his PokéGear and made a call.
The phone rang once, twice, three times.
"This is Green of Viridian City Gym, who's this?"
He sounded irritated, worked-through. Red hovered silently, suddenly regretting this.
"Hello?"
Red breathed in to let him know he was there, at least. After a beat, the words came softly and huskily, rough from disuse.
"I lost."
"Who…" there was a brief pause, and then he heard Green inhale sharply. "Red?!"
The cold wind ate away any words Red planned on saying. He just made a small "mm-hm" noise into the receiver.
"What—wh—You're alive—Why haven't you called your mom, do you know how—how much I—where the hell are—what do you mean you lost?!"
Red pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at it mildly. Green's flood of questions continued, a tinny, quiet murmur from the distance Red held it.
"Are you on Mt. Silver?! I'm—" there was a shuffling of papers, then: "I'm coming there, right now, and if you run or something I'm gonna personally kill you, but first I'm calling your mom—if you just hung up on me I'm—"
Red couldn't help it. He laughed, very quietly, but laughed nonetheless. Green went silent and Red could almost taste his anger.
"You're laughing?! Red, you practically faked your death! I am going to punch you in the face when I get up on that hell mountain, god—you stay right there!" His voice cracked unexpectedly reaching the end of his hung up first, something Red didn't foresee. He observed his PokéGear and pocketed it.
Green could try to beat him up if he wanted; Red wasn't coming down from the mountain. And even though the visit would be full of rage from Green, Red couldn't help but anticipate it.
Red finished tying his shoes. Now all he had to do was wait.
He heard Green moving around in his room, getting ready to explore Alola with Red. There was the muffled sound of something falling to the floor and a small curse. Red tapped his foot impatiently against the floor until finally, Green emerged, hair combed and ready to go.
"Good morning," Green tossed his way, not even making eye contact as he searched for his sunglasses.
"Good morning," Red responded. His voice was unfairly raspy and hoarse, as if he'd been screaming all night, but it was definitely audible. He immediately flushed. Green reacted sharply—he startled and even made a small squeak of surprise. He scrambled to regain his composure by running his hand through his hair and coughing to hide the yelp.
"G-good morning," Green repeated, voice higher in pitch. Red smiled. Green peeked out at him from behind his arm. "Um…so you…"
Red focused on the words. He just had to say them. Green wouldn't judge him. He knew how to do this. "I can talk."
"Clearly." Green finally faced him, hands on his hips. His face broke out into a sheepish grin. "Don't force it or anything. It sounds like you haven't spoken in years."
"I haven't," and Red was shocked at how easily the dry answer left his lips. It still felt…wrong, somehow. Like he had to whisper else someone caught him. "Still can't talk. In public. Well."
"I remember," was Green's simple response. To Red's surprise, Green looped his hand through his.
"Sorry," Red says, for no reason and everything.
"Yeah," Green responds, but it's not unkind or dismissive. "Now come on. Lets go see what this Alola region is all about."
Red was silent during their walk through the region. He hoped that was okay.
"Hey, are you two from Kanto?" someone asked. Green said yes, and looked towards Red. There was a beat of silence that stretched a second too long before Green gracefully pointed to his friend and corrected himself, saying, "yes, we are."
"It's not a choice," Red explained when they were finally in their room. "I really want to introduce myself without help sometimes. I just…" it all crowds around and it's all locked up and it makes me feel more panicked and angry and guilty the harder I try. The words trail off. Despite feeling comfortable enough to speak around Green, he still wasn't good enough.
Green's hand rests on his wrist. "It's okay."
It's a detail Red can't believe he's forgotten: Green is as human as anyone else. Despite the unfailing bravado and overflowing confidence, Green is a person. He sings praises of himself, yet he has a remarkably low self-esteem. Ever since he was a kid, when they still had sleepovers and gossiped like girls, Green slept fitfully and restlessly.
He wakes up a few nights later and Green is leaning on the couch. His face is obscured, arms crossed, and he's visibly shaking. Red doesn't say a word and pretends to be asleep.
Red wonders if Green can't sleep thanks to him, thanks to the "hell-frozen-over-mountain" he's melded himself to. God, he hopes not.
A week into their trip to Alola, Red wakes up and sees Green sitting near the couch. Red opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when he saw Green was fast asleep, curled in an uncomfortable sitting position that was bound to give him neck pain the next day. He was close enough that Red could poke his hand out and touch his shiny, soft-looking hair. Red almost does it. He realized there were other sections of their hotel room, but Green came to the couch. Either he was watching (protectively?) or…reassuring himself. That Red was still there.
Red does something he hasn't since he went up to Mt. Silver: he makes a snap decision.
"You want to share a bed?"
Green's voice was shocked, but it wasn't…panicked, or nervous. He just sounded surprised Red was the one to suggest it.
"I mean…" Red fumbled for an excuse that didn't implicate Green. "The couch is a little uncomfortable, y'know?"
Green squinted at him, color filling his cheeks. Even someone less observant than Green could see Red was avoiding something. Red instinctively went to pull his hat down before Green shrugged without any more argument.
"Sure, why not?" he said nonchalantly, even as the blush rose to his ears. "We'll only be here a few more days, anyway."
Red was still awake at one in the morning, and he was still awake when Green pulled himself out of sleep with a shaky gasp. Red kept his eyes shut, but he heard sheets shuffle and the tell-tale sound of someone pulling their knees to their chest.
"Green," he murmured. Green startled with another gasp.
"You scared me," he muttered. "…Didn't know you were a-awake."
"Go back to sleep," Red responded. His hand snaked out from under the covers and grabbed Green's. "I'm not going anywhere."
Green sighed heavily, using his free hand to press it to his face. "That obvious?" he whispered.
Red shrugged underneath the covers. "I've known you since we were little," he said simply.
Green contemplated this, then nodded. "Yeah. Guess you have."
He turned and pulled the blanket up to his ears. Red only hesitated a second before scooting in closer. He expected Green to tense or move away, but he gave a sort of full-body shudder and accepted the contact hungrily. He started shaking, and Red didn't say anything else.
Malasada was a delicious food, Red decided. It tasted kind of like a donut. The shop was cute too, with plants everywhere and Pokémon designs printed on the walls. And Green was with him.
"Never took you for someone with a sweet tooth," his friend commented lightly. Red shrugged.
"I lived on a mountain for a few years, the only sweet things there were the berries." He finished his sentence with a decisive bite of malasada.
Green smirked. He looked like he was about to make some smart comment when a waitress walked by their table and gave a friendly smile.
"Enjoying the food?" she asked, voice bubbly. "Malasada has to be my favorite part of Alola."
Green gave a welcoming laugh and Red's heart did something funny. "Yeah, it's great! Red, which one did you order?"
Red moved to answer, but when the waitress looks at him it feels like she's not just observing him, she's analyzing, noticing every little movement he makes, and for a moment the words all clogged in his throat and he froze.
The silence stretched for just half a second longer than it needed to before he offered a weak smile and nodded. Green instantly took over, conversing easily with the woman. Any time the conversation turned to Red, Green deflected it. Red felt…somewhat jealous, but mostly he was burning with the awkwardness of it all. The waitress couldn't stay around forever, though, and she eventually turned to serve other customers.
The instant she left, Red pulled his hat down so he couldn't make eye contact with Green and felt slightly better.
"Come on, you did fine," Green insisted. Red scrambled for words again. He meant to make a coherent sentence but he instead muttered something that sounded like "sorry".
"Red…"
He couldn't see with his hat and all, but he heard a small huff of exasperation and Green shift in his seat, and suddenly—
Green's leaning over the table, his hand tilting Red's hat upwards. He was so close that Red would only need to slouch for their noses to touch. His eyes were all Red could see.
If Red was having difficulty forming words before, now he was hopeless. He could only move his mouth silently, like a fish.
Green looked like he was about to say something, but for a second their eyes met and he flushed. The shop felt suspended in time and for a second Red thought, ridiculously, he's close enough to kiss.
Green pulled away and let the hat flop down. "Okay! I paid, lets get out of here and check out the trails, how's that sound?"
His voice was certainly higher pitched. Red peeked out from under his hat and gave himself a second to recover.
"Sounds good to me," he finally managed. They were walking out of the store when the realization hit Red like a train:
He really, really would've liked it if Green did slouch forward, if his eyes had fluttered shut, if the lips snagged on his teeth just…
Oh God.
Shit.
Red couldn't focus for the rest of their walk.
Red was completely, utterly screwed, and he never even saw it coming.
It really was like a train—or at least, more like a train wreck. It was sudden, quick, and nothing was the same afterwards. Red noticed every little thing Green did and it was starting to drive him a little crazy. Let alone the fact that they shared a bed—Red couldn't tell if he regrets that decision now or what.
The problem with going up on a mountain when you're eleven and not coming down for a long, long time is that you miss a pretty big part of growing up: crushes. Red hadn't even seen many human beings in the last five years, let alone fallen in love with one. Now here he was, head over heels for his friend with absolutely no earthly clue how to deal with it.
His Pokémon all caught on immediately, as embarrassing as that was. Pikachu made knowing, smarmy trills whenever Green walked by and did an incredibly good job of wiggling eyebrows for a creature with none. It was all ridiculous. It was all stupid and juvenile and irritating.
"Hey, Red! Wanna battle?"
Red was snapped out of his reverie by a noisy, intrusive call. It reminded Red of when Green dragged him off Mt. Silver, except now if Green touched his shoulder he'd implode. It took him a minute to process.
"B…Battle? Why?" he stammered.
"'Cause we're legends and we gotta stay sharp," Green explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You don't wanna lose your title, do you?"
"I think I already have…?"
"Oh, never mind that. Come on, the Battle Tree has a great arena, being a Battle Tree and all."
They battle. Red won, but only barely. He would never admit it was because he was focusing on Green the whole time.
"Green, do you like anyone?"
Oh God, why did he say that. Why did he say that. Being in bed next to Green at one in the morning was doing things to his head.
"Where'd that come from?" The voice was muffled by pillows.
Red was silent. Green was too, for a moment. "Um," Green finally said. "I think I should probably tell you this, cause we're friends, right?"
Red's heart shot directly into his throat. He nodded, hoping Green heard the shift on the sheets and took it as a yes. Green was silent for a full minute and for a second Red thought he just fell asleep.
"I'm gay," he said, and Red thinks his spirit ascends only to slam into the ceiling and crash back into his body. He must've made a noise because Green's suddenly stammering, "I-I mean that's cool with you, right? I…probably just made everything more awkward since, since we're sharing a bed but it's not like I'll hit on you or—"
"It's fine," Red said, a bit breathlessly. "Green, it's…it's totally fine and not awkward. Don't worry."
"Oh. That's cool." Green breathed loudly out through his nose. "Just wanted to clear that up, I guess."
"When'd you find out?" Why am I asking these invasive questions? Why don't I just close my eyes and go to sleep?!
"Uh…" Green hesitated for a long minute once more and it was all Red could do to not slap his forehead. He was asking personal questions. He would be completely unable to answer, so why should he expect Green to? But he does, to Red's surprise. "I…I dunno, I just had a crush on a guy one day and…" he faltered. "No, it wasn't that simple. I liked him for a really long time and pretended not to because everyone was always telling me that stuff was…wrong, so I shoved it away and was a real dick to him to try and prove it to everyone—and myself—that I wasn't a weirdo." Green swallowed. "It didn't work."
"You still have a…crush on him?" Red asked, so quietly he has to strain to hear himself.
The tension was palpable, and even as Red was cursing his awkwardness his heart pounded to hear the answer.
"Yes," Green whispered, just as softly as Red. "I think I do."
Implications Red couldn't even bear to let himself think about exploded from that answer. Red wanted to ask more. What would you do if he loved you back? he thinks, but finally his nerves have overpowered his voice and he falls silent again.
He thought the tension would burn off like the sun cleans away morning mist, but the fog hung heavy over Alola even the next day. Red was back to being silent and Green wasn't being very talkative either.
"So…" Green stuttered over breakfast. "There's lots of nature and stuff on Poni Island, but I've been thinking it'd be nice to visit the other islands too, maybe…see the cities and stuff."
Red says the words carefully in his head before voicing them in an attempt to sound even. "That sounds nice."
Green's gaze lingered on his, and just that split second of non-physical contact was enough to make Red flustered. He tugged at the edge of his cap nervously and looked away.
"Did I make stuff awkward?" Green blurted out, loud enough to startle Red. He instantly flushes. "I-I…that was off-topic I don't know I thought maybe you were acting a little weird and I—!"
"No! No, I'm acting weird because I…" Red trailed off. How does he do this? Why did he start his sentence like that? How does he reassure Green that everything is fine, the only reason he's being on edge is because he cannot stop thinking of how Green seems so…
"I…" he started this sentence and he can't stop now. He has to say something and the moment is passing just say literally anything, Red! "I think I'm gay too?"
Green went silent. His jaw dropped a little bit.
"Really?" Green finally squeaked. "Oh. I…totally misunderstood then. Sorry." He took a split second to collect himself (far quicker than Red ever would have) and gave Red a sheepish smile. "So, how's Akala Island sound?"
Red was reeling from his own words and the speed of Green's recovery, so he just nodded numbly and let himself be dragged out the door.
Hano Beach. Red hadn't been to a beach in years—the last one might've been near Olivine City, or Cianwood perhaps. His thoughts felt muted by the rhythm of the water against the sand and the sounds of Staryu chirping nearby.
This region felt oddly familiar, despite being so far away from home. It was covered in Kantonian Pokémon, for starters. He absentmindedly dug his toes in the sand and looked to his side.
Green's here. That was the most warm reminder of home he could get, even more so than the Caterpie and Rattata playing so close by. Green, the person he can't remember life being without. Green, his childhood friend turned rival turned…now.
Another memory Mt. Silver's blizzards had eaten away: a time when Red hated Green. He remembered the negative space around the black shape of rage; he remembered satisfaction every time he won, he remembered anger every time he was teased, and he remembered a shimmer of cold satisfaction as Professor Oak so blatantly praised Red and never Green, but he couldn't remember truly hating him. Like Green had rooted for Red, saying my rival should be strong to keep me sharp, Red had almost subconsciously hoped for Green's success.
Green had always wanted attention more than anything else, especially with no parents, a sister who couldn't be a mother figure to him, and a grandfather so absorbed in his research there was time for little else. Green had cared about nothing but Pokémon, but so had Red. In Green's eyes, Red outclassed him in every way. Red was everything Green was, but better. Red was the world and Green was a continent. Green was strong, incredibly powerful, but only the second best, always only the second best.
Does Green still see Red as a being of perfection? Even after he lost? Does Green see himself as third-rate, now?
Red couldn't imagine that. Green was never second-best. He was a complementary hue, they were supposed to be partners in crime, friends forever.
Red looks to the person next to him thinks, maybe, he has always loved him.
"Green?" he whispered, and he felt a sort of finality, a preparedness in his tone that hadn't been there since forever. Perhaps it was the water and soothing waves calming him.
"Yeah?"
The words pierced the air like snow, which was odd since Red felt nothing but warmth right now.
"About your crush."
Red's hands skimmed the sand and found Green's. He interlocked his fingers with them. Green gripped back, as if subconsciously. "Do you plan to ask him out when we get home?"
Green met his eyes and Red suddenly felt as if this was a Pokémon battle. Which was good, because that was all Red had ever excelled at. He just had to execute his moves perfectly and dodge any attack and everything will be fine because he trusts and loves his Pokémon.
"I don't know." Green kept eye contact and now Red couldn't even hear the waves. "I'm not sure if he'll say yes."
"I think you have a good chance," Red replied. Someone handsome like you, he thought ridiculously, but he doesn't dare voice it—that move would be high risk, high reward, and he has never been a gambler in his battles.
"You think?" Green was suddenly closer, and Red resisted the urge to twist his cap and go silent. He wants to talk. But at the same time it's like he's forcing his mouth to do things when it's distracted. "I could tell him right now, if I really wanted."
"Oh yeah?" Red's heart was pounding so hard it might have burst out of his chest. "Is he close by?"
Green wetted his lips and Red was drawn to the motion. "Sure. He's right here."
There. That was the moment he needed to execute a move. It was such a small window that he didn't even have time to appreciate it before he was kissing Green. And he didn't have time to wonder if that was the most beneficial choice, if Green would pull away, if Red completely misunderstood, because Green kisses back and in Red's book, this battle was a smashing victory.
Red wakes up next to Green.
He smiles.
"Good morning."