Hilda plopped down on the swings and groaned. The stinging taste of defeat was not what she was used to. Even if she was losing to the best trainer in the world, it still wasn't right. She was the freaking champ of Unova, had befriended Zekrom AND Reshiram, took down Team Plasma and shut them down. And now here she was, defeated and pissed. Angrily she kicked at a rock and yelped in pain when it was a Crustle that bit her. It growled until it noticed the menacing Braviary perched above her. Scuttling off in fear she mumbled about how everyone ELSE would scuttle off. Except for him. God. Those damn red eyes and quiet manner. It threw her off. Practically everything about him was aggron-vating. (A/N PokePuns!) He was everything she was not, and he won the battle. In short, she was pissed. A low musical cry from Braviary alerted her that the sun was going down and it was time for her to rest.
Dawn broke through the clouds of the gray that preceded it, and with it, the girl from yesterday comes into sight. His cold eyes, the color of rubies cuts through the snow to rest on her figure. A slight grunt slips from his lips. She is one of the few who comes back for more defeat. He questions why she chooses to come back, when she would just be beaten again.
"The chance is slim but I'll take it."
He knows the chance she speaks of. The chance of victory. The chance she may not experience today or tomorrow. He simultaneously reaches for the Pokeball as she does.
It is midday. He swears that her 'mons are stronger this time around. This time she is prepared. This time she may win, but he always has a trick up his sleeve. A full restore. Maybe two.
"All right, Stoutland!" The sixteen year old brunette yelled, "One more attack and we'll have this one!"
Red smirked and tossed a full restore at his Pikachu. He allowed himself a satisfied smile at her jaw dropping to the ground. Then he cringed when he heard Hilda's rampant string of curses. Clearing his throat, he said, "Thunderbolt." Stoutland dropped to the ground and the chance was gone.
Hilda groaned and drew the fainted 'mon back into its ball. Red knew she must have been very upset.
"Hey, it's okay."
"I just thought I was going to win that time."
He shrugs and tells her he will heal her Pokemon and will see her tomorrow, assuming if she comes back.
It's winter and there have been countless battles. It's been almost half a year since she first challenged him. He notes that she still strives for the chance to win; she refuses to give up. He also notes that he looks forward to her daily visits. He is slowly, slowly but surely, remembering what it is like to be alive-remembering how to love.
Did he seriously just think that? He rested his head in the palm of his hand and waited for her daily visit.
Hilda makes the trek up Mt. Silver for what seems like the hundredth time. Every time she nears the peak her pulse speeds up as if it were on some sort of spiked Rare Candies. She can't help it, getting all jacked up on anticipation and adrenaline and hope and-love…
Out of all the things to think before a battle.
She shrugs and tenses once she sees his solitary figure, alone on the peak as usual. She is prepared. This time, she will win. (A/N well thats what she thinks lol)
"You seem distracted."
"Maybe I'm attempting to throw you off with a new strategy."
Red snorts and with a flick of his wrist, his Venusaur sends out a vicious RazorLeaf towards Hilda's Samurott, "Come on Samurott! You can take those wimpy leaves!"
Her four-legged beaver thing dug in its heels and took the "wimpy leaves", which to be honest, did leave a numerous amount of small cuts on him.
"STOP LOOKING AT THE DISTANCE AND FIGHT ME FOR REAL, HILDA!"
"Urf, sorry…"
Needless to say, she lost very badly.
"I have to say, that was the worst performance I have seen by a trainer. Ever. Including that kid, Youngster Joey."
"...Sorry."
God she sounds like me. When I never spoke.
"Okay, clearly something is up. Spill."
Hilda is quiet. She does not know how to react, instead choosing to think for a while.
"Are you going to respond or what?"
She stands up and brushes off her shorts, and Red does as well. She tilts her head upwards to gaze into his red eyes. He cocks his head to the side questioningly and in a burst of adrenaline and craziness Hilda kisses him, a quick sweet one, and runs off like a horde of Zubats were chasing her. Red is shocked, but he remembers, he finally remembers what it is like to be alive.
He waits. Days become weeks; weeks become months. It is almost a year since she last climbed the mountain; a year since he saw her. He berated himself for not responding, not kissing her back, not showing that he loved her too. He continues to wait, fighting trainer after trainer, those who think they can take him on. They don't have the same spark of life and determination in them. Not like her. He waits, not to find someone who can finally defeat him, he waits for her.
He waits for two years. It is winter again when he sees her. The snow is drifting down slowly like diamond dust. He picks out her familiar figure on the mountain slope. Six months of non-stop rematches left an impression. Six months to develop a love. And then, three years, three torturous years of silence and snow, and she is back. She gives him a quiet nod, so unlike her. He steps forwards, slowly, unsure. Before she can react he is hugging her and planting a solid kiss on her lips.
"You came back."