A/N: Tone will shift a little bit for the course of the rest of the story. I think you'll see it happen in this chapter. To be expanded upon at the bottom.

Chapter 4: Houses

Dusk shadows stretched across the beaten path as Red walked the road that led to his home on the outskirts of Pallet Town. Poli and Pika were at his side, the water pokemon casually keeping pace while the more energetic electric mouse bounded off in and around the weeds flanking the dirt path. Red looked around at his hometown before looking down at his oldest companion.

As if sensing his trainer's gaze, the poliwrath turned its bulging eyes toward him.

Red smiles at his partner. "Sure feels weird coming back here, doesn't it, Poli?"

The fighter grunted, letting out a sharp breath from its nostrils.

Pallet was small; the smallest village in all of Kanto, even more than Lavender. There were few people, and even fewer houses, and farmland that stretched for miles between Route 1 and the sea.

Red breathes in and out, twice, Pallet's fresh air filling his lungs for the first time in what felt like decades. "It's the same, isn't it, Poli? It hasn't changed a bit."

A sound deep within Poli's spiral similar to a gentle gurgle reminded Red of Lake Rage. He let out a chuckle before rubbing the spot between the beast's eyes.

"Yeah, I feel that way, too, buddy."

It's been years since Red was in the heart of Pallet. Oak's lab was at the edge of the village boundaries and straddled the border between the town's fields and Route 1 and Red's home was in the opposite side of the village. There was never any reason for him to go. There hadn't been a reason for a very long time.

And yet the years of his childhood came back to him and he found his way easily. The roads were the same, simple and straightforward. There was the scarecrow standing proudly over its garden. Follow the gentle curve right, and there stood the huge rock that the village children were never able to figure out how it got there in the first place. Climb over the small hill and there was the fire hydrant that hadn't seen use in what seemed like centuries. And just a few meters farther down was the pothole in the road everyone had tripped over at least once in their lives, resulting in a few sprains, fractures, and even broken bones in some more serious cases.

Past the pothole and under the sparse shade of a loan oak tree, stood a tiny house where the beaten road ended.

Red's home (or at least the home under his name) was a small, humble thing that didn't have any of the signs of abandonment he expected it to have. The walls were the shade of off-white that he had always remembered it having. The porch was clear of any weeds, no ivy clung to the bricks, the roof looked sturdy and well-maintained.

Red was slightly confused. He hadn't been there in years. Why did it look so neat? Then, his eye caught the sign beside his mailbox bearing the proud words in letters far too curly and fancy for them to have come from him: Red of Pallet Town, Undefeated Champion of Kanto.

Ah. That made sense.

Red's gaze paused briefly upon the front door, feeling the beginnings of a frown crease his brow. The sun was nearly halfway below the hills now and the shadows stretched dark hands across the wood. Two small windows along the top of the door were black as midnight, a gaping emptiness like a pair of hollow eyes. A dull, brass knob hung and caught the remnant light of the day like fingers grasping at water, getting wet but never really containing it in its hold.

It spelled of a cold that didn't match the warmth of the summer evening.

He closed his eyes briefly and imagined a different door opening up for him to reveal a sunshine smile brighter than the sky, arms poised and ready for him to step into them. He opened his eyes and couldn't help the disappointment when he saw nothing but a house that wasn't a home and a door made of wood, but might as well had been steel.

Pika, ever curious, bounded up the steps leading to the front door before pausing briefly on the second step when it creaked beneath his weight. Red and Poli watched the tiny rodent make its way to the front door where it pawed at the wood curiously. Poli hesitated only slightly before following the yellow creature, stepping onto the porch and reaching the brass knob to wrap its white hand around it easily.

Red nearly flinched at the sight. He saw a tiny poliwag gazing intensely at the knob too small to reach it, with no arms to open it even if it could.

The front door creaked open and Pika slipped in first. Poli was large now. When it had been but a poliwag, it would have slipped in just as easily as Pika but now…

Now, it had to angle its wide shoulders to fit through the narrow door. Red let out a chuckle at the clumsiness of his oldest friend as it struggled to enter its old home. He wondered if he looked awkward, too, staring at this unassuming building as if it was a battlefield and not a childhood home.

No longer hesitating, the Champion of Kanto entered the home of his childhood with a sigh, allowing the door to creak closed behind him.

It was a humble abode. A living room, a kitchen, a room, and a bathroom. And absolutely nothing had changed, except everything had changed. There was the sofa that was always piled high with clothes and magazines and various knick-knacks Red never bothered to put away. It was empty and neat now, with pillows he didn't know he had that were fluffed up and arranged neatly at the corners. The coffee table that was never spotless before was immaculate now, glowing in its cleanliness. There was the TV he used to always use but it was the most recent version, the best and not the sorry lump of tech he used to own. The kitchen counter used to always be piled high with dishes he didn't bother to wash, but was now empty, wiped down with not a single speck of dust to be seen.

"It was never this clean," Red said, half amused and half disturbed. Poli nodded its head in agreement. It lumbered around the small living room, wondering where it might rest before choosing an unassuming corner that bordered the kitchen and the living room. It sat down heavily and the building shook slightly at the sudden drop.

Pika sniffed around the house, smelling none of its Trainer's scent, even though this was supposed to be his home. Red was sunshine and adventures and courage and this building was anything but. The electric rodent ran this way and that, into and out of the room until, satisfied, it contented itself at Poli's side where the lumbering water pokemon wrapped a friendly arm around the creature, careful not to get itself zapped.

The Champion looked around and sighed. It felt cold and abandoned, despite it being so clean. It didn't look or feel like a home at all. At least, not in the way it felt at Yellow's.

At her home, the scent of the trees floated through the constantly open windows. There were the sounds of pokemon and wind and swaying leaves. Chattering pidgey that stopped at the birdfeeder Yellow always restocked beside her window. A vase of Viridian flowers upon the kitchen counter. The smell of pancakes in the morning. A sweet voice wishing him good night in the evening.

There was none of that here. Only memories.

Red glanced at the sofa and saw a tiny poliwag making a mess on the cushions. He looked toward the kitchen and saw a small six-year-old crying amidst a chaotic clutter of pots and pans. The door that led to his room showed him a bag overturned with stray pokeballs and potions scattered across the floor.

He turned to the fireplace, mounted upon the mantelpiece was a single frame with a single picture. His eyes flashed. His fist clenched. For years, it had always faced down. He never did find the courage to throw it in the fire like he wanted. But here it was, standing proudly as if it belonged there. As if…as if…

He turned away swiftly, startling his lounging pokemon with his sudden movement as he moved to the kitchen.

"I wonder if the neighbors were nice enough to restock my refrigerator?" he wondered aloud, trying to fill the emptiness of the house with anything and everything.

But his pokemon were much more perceptive than that. Pika pulled gently at Red's pant leg while Poli fixed its watery gaze upon its Trainer knowingly. At Red's hip, his pokeballs felt heavy and the one holding his venusaur twitched slightly.

He wanted to laugh, always delighted by how well his pokemon knew him. He knelt and reached down toward the pikachu at his feet, scratching it behind the ears.

"Sorry. I guess I can't hide anything from you all, huh?" he chuckled before taking the small rodent in his arms and cradling it against his chest.

He glanced around at the strangely familiar-yet-unfamiliar space. "It just…feels weird."

Pika's nose twitched but its knowing gaze fixed itself upon its Trainer. "I lived here for ten years and yet it feels nothing like…like…"

Like Yellow's is what he couldn't say.

"I know it's the right thing to do. I couldn't just stay at her place. Not when…"

Not when she was still so beautiful even after she wakes up. Not when he could see her walk out the bathroom and smell the vanilla-scented soap she used. Not when he could take not twenty paces and find himself at her side, take her in his arms and—.

"Not when I don't even really belong there."

More pokeballs twitched at his belt as though in protest.

He chuckled. "Seriously, guys. It just wasn't a good idea."

Poli's gaze asked him, But coming here was?

Red looked left and right before settling on the front door. He thought of Viridian flowers and berry pancakes. He thought of kisses shared and a hand soft and small and stronger than his.

He thought of midnight hair and eyes like blood and a memory deep within him that he shoved away so hard he stood up and turned away from the only pokemon that knew. Poli's eyes drilled into his back, the question burning from its gaze.

But Red remained silent because he hadn't an answer at all.

It felt very strange to him at first, living alone in that tiny house.

He had stayed at Yellow's for only about two weeks, but he was already getting used to seeing her first thing in the morning and coming back to her at the end of the day. It made the days feel longer (and there was always that ache within him to see her again), but every evening when they would welcome each other back felt sweeter and sweeter as the days passed.

At her home, he had only to think of Yellow and what was to come in the day ahead. And to be perfectly honest it was the best. It was amazing how a simple relationship status could change everything. Every day with her as his girlfriend felt more precious to him than the last nine years they'd known each other. He always treasured and loved her, as a friend or a sister during those years. But that can never compare to the single moment their mutual feelings reached each other in that crystal cavern. Now, it was like an entire year passed in a minute. Suddenly, everything she did was a melody or a masterpiece. When she hummed in the kitchen in preparation for dinner or when she was sketching in the forest or when she passed her time fishing in the Viridian rivers. She was like a sculpture or a painting in motion.

Every moment with her became like a diamond, a moment so precious he wanted to carry it deep in his heart. The texture of her palm against his, the softness of her lips against his, the way her hands felt when she played with his hair, or the comfort he felt when he placed his head on her lap.

It was like an adventure in itself. Suddenly, he was learning all sorts of new things about Yellow. This is how she looked when he caressed her cheek softly. That was how she reacted when he pulled her in for a hug. That was the sound of her voice just after having woken up. It was like he was meeting her all over again.

How different it was in Pallet Town! Where before he needed only to turn around and there she'd be, now, he turned around and the only company he'd see were the memories of days long since passed. Before, all was in a single moment: the joy found in the present. Now, he came home every day to the shadows of a place stuck forever in the past.

But the moments he spent with her rejuvenated him in ways he didn't care to admit. And for a full six months, they made it work. The warmth of summer bled into the cool of fall and finally to the chill of winter. The days grew shorter, the shadows longer and sometimes it made living in Pallet Town even more unbearable, but the softness of Yellow's smile anchored him. The sweetness of her voice lifted him. So, even though tearing himself from her side almost every evening wasn't something he particularly looked forward to, the increased cold that came with the change in weather did nothing to dampen his mood. And soon he found himself living an ordinary life.

His days were becoming more routine. Before this, it had been all about training, battling, adventuring. When he signed the contract with Davy, it had been battling, modeling, trips, shuttles, roads.

But now, with Yellow, it was so much calmer. In the morning, he'd get requests from various people, maybe Oak (though this was rarer), maybe Blue, but more often than not it was the League.

It wasn't often they called on him, which was all well and good for Red. He was left the freedom to do anything he wanted when they didn't, but he was still beholden to some of the League's whimsies: a cameo for a tournament here, an exhibition battle for a festival there, clear up rampaging pokemon on a route over there.

These requests usually stayed within the region, so Red could show up, do what he needed to do, and leave as soon as his time was up. He could usually get back to Pallet Town by the end of the night, giving him just enough time to visit Viridian on most days.

So, his life now was more structured. He'd wake up, go off to do whatever errands or jobs he needed to complete, then come back to have dinner with Yellow when he could, and then retire to his home in Pallet Town before the day was out.

It was a lifestyle he wasn't used to. The idea that he could come home to someone every night; it was equal parts thrilling and strange. But if Red could be called anything, it was adventurous. He took this new rhythm in his life in stride.

Even the home that had seemed so abandoned before gradually seemed more and more lived in. The silverware drawer often got messy because he was too lazy to rearrange it. There were piles of dishes left in the sink, unwashed for days, sometimes. The bed in his bedroom was left unmade more often than not. Piles of mail, mostly spam, were strewn about on the coffee table, ignored.

But some things remained the same. The brass knob was never polished. The sofa never used. And the frame on the fireplace faced down, its perpetual position.

Red was different in his house than when he was at hers, or anywhere else really, Yellow noticed.

It was hard to put a name on it, but he seemed more…reserved. He moved around his home carefully, almost. Even his pokemon tended to stay in just a few places. The house was too small for any of Red's larger pokemon (Venusaur would probably crush the coffee table and the sofa if he were called out) but even Poli stayed in just a few places: that corner straddling the kitchen and the living room, the bathroom, the doorway of the bedroom, the path behind the sofa to the front door. Even Pika seemed just a tiny bit careful and the rowdy rodent usually never cared for indoor spaces.

Yellow glanced at the pile of unread mail on the coffee table and smiled to herself. Red never was particularly clean.

From the kitchen, Red followed her gaze and smiled bashfully. "Uh, yeah. Sorry about the mess."

Yellow looked up, eyes traveling from the coffee table to the kitchen counter and finally landing on the pile of dishes left in the sink. Her gaze seemed to burn a trail of red across the Champion's cheeks.

Red stuttered. "Yeah, I really should have thought about cleaning up before you got here, but, well, I had that exhibition match yesterday and today was just full of errands and stuff and—."

Yellow couldn't help but laugh. "You never were the neatest person in Kanto, huh?" she teased as her gaze swept from him to the lounging Poli in the corner of the room to the sofa and then finally to the fireplace where, curiously, she saw a single picture frame (so unassuming! She didn't even notice it until now) face down, its back sticking straight up.

"Oh, did the picture fall?" she asked, pointing at said frame, curiosity brimming from her cheeks.

Red froze, so brief she thought it was her imagination, before saying, "Oh, yeah, it did. Don't worry about it. I'll fix it later."

She was dying to see what sort of picture it was! Was it him as a child? Perhaps an embarrassing baby photo? Maybe a picture of his parents?

She was going to offer to fix it herself so she can take a peek at what secrets it might hold, but Red's voice caught her attention.

"So, for dinner, I wanted to make…"

Yellow glanced at him, feeling strange. Was it her imagination or did his voice sound a little strange? His tone a little forced?

But his smile was as bright as ever, radiating from his cheeks like starlight, effectively calming her. Well, she thought, she'll ask him about the picture later. Chatting with him, she brushed past him to the sink to get started on the dirty dishes.

He protested, but she insisted: "Come on, I thought you were going to cook me dinner?"

His face seemed conflicted before it relaxed into a smile. Yellow ignored the way it made her heart beat. "Yeah, you're right," he conceded.

Moments later, the dishes were clean, the meat prepared, and the only thing left to do was cook it all. Red had his back to her as he faced the stove and Yellow just watched from her seat at the kitchen counter.

She admired him, she really did. It was just over six months since they were together and yet it felt the same now as it did when everything was new. And every day with him was wonderful and new and exciting, but she still couldn't shake the feeling that something was different about him as he stood there at his stove, in his kitchen, in his home.

Maybe it was the strange feeling she had when he first invited her over (was it strange that he hadn't asked her once in the entire six months they were together, until now?). Maybe it was the way he stiffened when he opened the door (or was it her imagination?). Was it the way Pika didn't seem to jump on top of everything and anything?

Poli briefly shook her from her reverie when it got up from its corner and lumbered over to Red.

"What's up, buddy?" the Champion asked as he glanced down at his companion.

An inquiring gaze and a gesture from its white fist later, Red pulled out his pokeball and allowed the amphibian to retreat inside.

Sirens blared inside Yellow's head because she knew Red's pokemon. She knew how energetic Pika was. How tough and resilient Saur was. How acclimated to freedom and vast skies Aero was. And she knew in the same place she knew Dodosuke loved sweet things and that Golsuke adored rolling down hills, that Poli would rather be outside its pokeball where it can taste the winter air, smell the food for dinner, and lumber over to its trainer to receive a pat between its eyes or a hug from Yellow or a gentle nuzzle from Pika or…or anything that meant it was here in this world and not, definitely not in the tiny space of its pokeball.

Maybe it was nothing, she tried to convince herself. Poli was among the smaller of Red's pokemon, but he was still large, a bit too large for the tiny house Red stayed in. Perhaps he felt cramped.

But then, Poli would have just walked outside, the way he would usually do. Was there something about this house? Maybe the large amphibian felt sick?

"Is…is Poli okay?" Yellow tried, uncertain.

Red turned toward her briefly. He cocked his head and asked, "Sure he is. Why?"

"Well, he asked to go inside his pokeball. He…never really does that?" She frowned, brow creasing in frustration that she couldn't be more specific than that.

"Oh." A single syllable before a long stretch of silence. He turned his back to her. "I think he was just tired."

Yellow wanted to believe him; she never had any reason not to. But when he wouldn't look her in the eye, when Poli and Pika were both acting strangely, when he didn't seem comfortable in the very place he came home to…

I don't believe you, was Yellow's thought and surprised herself.

She attempted to sound nonchalant. She wasn't sure it worked. "Is that so? Was today very tiring?"

Red's back remained turned toward her as he stirred the pot. "Yeah, I guess so."

Are you lying to me? She didn't want to think he was. Because Red was a lot of things: he was an adventurer, a battler, a friend, a lover. But he wasn't a liar.

"Are you sure?" she tried, purposefully pushing it.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Finally, he turned to her and smiled.

Yellow's heart dropped to her stomach. It was almost unrecognizable: the way it didn't reach his eyes, the way it stopped at his cheeks like stone. Why are you lying to me? The question was at the tip of her tongue. She bit it back. She needed to respond to him.

"Oh. Okay," was what she came up with.

She wanted to believe in him. If Red was lying to her, he most likely (probably) had a good reason.

She thought to the picture frame left faced down on a mantelpiece, the only piece of decoration in the entire house. Did his hesitation have something to do with that? Was he trying to hide something from her?

She tried to convince herself it wasn't so. That she was over-analyzing a simple situation. She'd known him for nearly ten years now; what could he possibly have to hide from her?

And yet, the questioned burned on her tongue, but throughout the evening, whenever she would suggest anything remotely close to either the picture frame or Poli's strange behavior, he'd change the subject. Right then and there.

Yellow stared over the food on her plate that smelled like heaven and probably tasted like it, too (she couldn't really tell; so distracted was she), and locked her gaze on the young man sharing her meal. He smiled at her, head cocked to the side adorably and Yellow is once again reminded of how beautiful he is: the ruby shade of his eyes, the sculpted contours of his jawline, the way his hair fell over his forehead.

She stared and stared and wondered why he looked so far away.

A/N: So I was thinking a lot about this story and realized that Red and Yellow were far too good a couple to just do shameless fluff (and also; shameless fluff was getting a little redundant. I needed some DRAMA in my life! Haha!). So, I'm shifting the tone of the story a little. Not too much because I don't want it to be a complete break from the lightheartedness of the past few chapters, but meh. It's a bit more fun to write this way, anyway. Shameless fluff was never my forte, I guess.

Anyway, this all meant that I had to put more thought and effort behind what I want to write for the next chapters (and the rest of the story). I hope that you will enjoy the plot threads I will be weaving and that this story will still brighten up your day even if just a little.

Happy (slightly late) New Year and have a blessed day!