maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
The movement of his hands felt awkward and stunted in a way he had never felt before. The twists and turns made his head spin, and he when he attempted to say one thing, it would come out as something entirely different and wrong.
Considering the idea of speaking to anyone in any capacity sent shivers of anxiety down his spine, he thought he'd have gotten around to learning how to speak sign language years ago. Red was sixteen that year, and only after one too many stunted conversations with Green did the other boy decide to do something about it.
"Like this," Green murmured and contorted Red's hands into the correct position, "it means family."
Red went to nod, but paused instead. He raised a hand in an upright fist and rocked it back and forth. Green grinned encouragingly.
It wasn't as though many of the actions were hard to do. The basics were easy to copy, and certainly didn't require particularly dextrous fingers. But Red had never been very good at school and while he had mastered communication via quick yet barely legible writing early on, things like studying and exams had continued to evade him even now.
It was truthfully the reason why he had ignored the problem for so long – he just couldn't remember all of the signs. He could barely remember ten of them.
"Now this is how you say hello, my name is Red," Green told him patiently, but raised an eyebrow as Red adopted a look of panic. "Don't worry so much – I don't expect you to learn it all in a day, I'm not a monster."
Red thought for a moment before joining all his fingers with his thumb in an attempt to communicate.
Green looked confused. "Huh? What do you—oh!" he exclaimed as Red shook his head back and forth to clarify further, looking more and more dejected as he realised he had gotten the sign wrong. "You mean no – it goes like this," Green said and fixed Red's fingers, "close, though. You'll get there."
Red fought down the urge to remind Green that he had learned it in a week after making the executive decision to teach Red sign language, then realised that he had yet to learn sign language himself – and there was no pen and paper in sight.
(Green had removed all writing utensils when they started an hour ago in an attempt to force Red to use his newfound knowledge. Not that he was actually retaining any new information, but had reaffirmed that he still hates Green although they've managed to patch things up over the past few years.)
Viridian's gym was quiet and eerie for once, and it unsettled Red more than Mt. Silver did during a snowstorm. The lack of trainers and challengers, the sound of battling pokémon and yelled commands made the space seem empty and cavernous. The room – and Green's expectant expression – made him anxious.
Red frowned and went to stand up, only to have Green grab his arm and pull him back down.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked indignantly. "We have thirty more signs to get through tonight, and then we'll revise what you've learnt."
Red recalled that Green never had a problem in school. He aced every exam and didn't even need to suck up to the teacher for better grades. He had always known what to say to their classmates which quickly made him the most popular person in the class. Being the grandson of the local professor certainly helped, as did inviting everyone around to the laboratory to see the pokémon, which eventually made him the most popular person in the entire school.
Red had just been happy to ignore everyone else in class and stare out the window.
Needless to say, Green had never had difficulties in anything – that is, until Red faced him five minutes after his own ascension to champion – and that had clearly gone to his head.
Red simply wasn't made to retain information that wasn't about pokémon.
He looked at Green and was surprised at the look on the other boy's face.
"Don't you want to have a real conversation with me?"
Red paused for a moment before slowly signing yes – he was getting that one down, at least.
"I've known you since we were kids," Green said slowly, "but we've never talked, ever. It doesn't matter to me, because I know that's not who you are but—" he struggled with the next few words. Red couldn't remember the last time Green didn't just blurt out whatever he was thinking at the time. "I'm just saying – I get that you don't wanna speak and all, but it would be nice to talk for once."
Red paused a moment to take all of it in.
Green had never been the most open of people, even when they had returned to being friends after their disastrous stint at rivalry. He was a boisterous person who cared little about what people thought about him, but even the most confident of people had trouble expressing themselves.
Red knew that he himself appeared to be collected on the field during battle – which was true, admittedly, though the calm he felt while battling was the exception rather than the rule – but the second he finished, he returned to the boy who was consistently apathetic about his surroundings in the way only the truly disillusioned can be.
Intrinsic apathy and confidence did not inherently equal being good at telling friends you care about them.
Green looked as though he was going to continue to talk, most likely to repeat the same sentiment in different variations until Red put him out of his misery.
Red put a hand on Green's arm, and signed family. Clumsily, shown when Green corrected the placement of his fingers again, but the sentiment was still the same.
Green smiled at him, and Red resolved, by the end of the week, to know I love you by heart.