Chapter Seven: Present

The freezing temperatures on the summit of the mountain kept me from crying, but it took all of my strength to keep me standing. My legs shook under this sudden pressure, like the world had all of a sudden upped gravity on me alone. My heart beat again, perhaps visibly against my chest, banging and banging against it until it hurt. A sob caught in my throat, but I couldn't let any noise escape from my mouth even if it could.

The smile vanished from Red's lips, but other than this, he didn't seem to recognize how distraught I was. He was confused, perhaps, at my sudden disappointment, but this was nothing he needed to worry about. He wanted a battle, after all, and I had been eager to agree. Whatever was wrong couldn't possibly be his fault.

And it wasn't his fault, really. No one decided whether they would speak or not—well, that wasn't entirely true. Red didn't speak often, clearly, and that was by choice. But me—I had no choice. All the times I truly wanted to say something, to be heard, I never was. I didn't choose that, and maybe if I had the choice, I wouldn't pick it. But never, until this moment, did I feel so distant from everyone I knew.

Ethan was right, after all. I shouldn't have left home.

But what choice did I have now? I agreed to a battle—I couldn't just walk away now, and I doubted I would be able to win in my current state of mind. It would be a dishonor to both me and my Pokémon if I were to give anything less than my best, but it would be cruel for me to use my Pokémon to take my anger out on Red, which I knew would be the case were I to continue this battle. But I had no choice. I never did.

I curled my hands into fists and furrowed my eyebrows, and Espeon mewed at me. It was too late. The disappointment I felt turned into anger and resentment. I climbed this mountain to find a boy like me, a boy who would understand exactly how I felt every day of my life—for nothing. He, like everyone else, would never understand me.

I didn't care if he was a hero. He wasn't mine anymore. What a fallacy I had convinced myself into believing…

Looking down at Espeon, I blew on the tips of my fingers. Espeon cried out to Typhlosion, and flames shot out of the latter monster's mouth. I snapped my fingers, sure that my rather sudden attack—an advantage I had by not being about to speak—would catch Red's Pikachu off guard. I would, after all, show the boy no mercy.

But his Pikachu was quick—I should have expected nothing less from Champion Red and his most loyal Pokémon. It dodged the attack so effortlessly and without any command from Red. I could tell, then, why people thought he was mute; his communication with his Pokémon was trust. His bond was impressive. Yet, then again, so was mine.

I stretched my fingers this time, and Espeon called the command to Typhlosion. Typhlosion, though, wasn't fast enough for Pikachu. The electric mouse threw its body into Typhlosion, and—although the former was many times smaller than the latter—Typhlosion fell back. The Pikachu attacked over and over, electric sparks flying from its cheeks to my poor Pokémon's body.

I grimaced, returning my starter to its Poké Ball. If Typhlosion couldn't stop Pikachu, then I was never going to win this battle. But I needed to win. I needed to prove to Red that I was better than he was. That was the only thing that would make this day better.

Well, I just needed the type advantage. I threw a Poké Ball out in front of me, and Piloswine burst out of it. I smirked, expecting panic on Red's part. But his face remained ever stoic, no hint of emotion on his face. He just pointed a finger at Piloswine, and Pikachu squeaked in reply. I needed to react quickly.

I stomped my foot on the ground, and Espeon quickly relayed my message onto Piloswine. The ground began to shake, but Pikachu threw its body into the air. Its tail glowed silver, growing rigid as it twirled. I winced as it sliced at Piloswine—Iron Tail. That was super effective against Ice types like Piloswine… Shit.

One-hit, and it was done. That Pikachu was something, but it had to start wearing down eventually.

Sunflora was up next, but it wasn't a fan of the snow. It wiggled its leaves around itself, and I frowned, shaking my head. It needed to do something. This was a big battle!

I clapped my hands, trying to snap Sunflora out of its funk. I grimaced, whipping my hand away from me. Sunflora was slow in the cold, and it could barely get its Razor Leaf attack out before Pikachu shocked it. But the attack was weak against Sunflora, and the leaves cut Pikachu as it hit my Pokémon.

Pikachu stumbled back, its cheeks sparking. My attack had barely done anything, but one more hit, and Sunflora was down. I could waste Sunflora's special attack with Leaf Storm… it would be worth it, after all, since it was probably going down, anyway—

Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell was I thinking? This battle was starting to get to me.

But still…

I waved my arms around, and Espeon hesitated. It knew how I felt… it could sense it. But I needed to get rid of this Pikachu. It was either do nothing and lose Sunflora or use all of Sunflora's strength and still lose it. The options weren't very good either way, but it was what I had to do. It was strategy, wasn't it?

Espeon finally called the command, and Sunflora whipped up a tornado of leaves. The falling snow weaved its way into the attack, pelting Pikachu as it hit. I snapped my fingers, sure that this would finish it. But Pikachu brushed off the attack—although tired, it wasn't giving up just yet. Red's expression still didn't change.

I clenched my fists, ready to jump in this fight. This was ridiculous.

Sunflora was down in the next attack. Three of my Pokémon had already lost to one of his, and my team had barely left a scratch on his Pikachu. The only consolation I had now was that it was easier to hate Red if he beat me like this.

I sent out Kingdra next; at least it was part Dragon… it wouldn't go down without a fight. But if it did go down, I was screwed. My next type was Flying, and Pikachu had the obvious advantage there. My only hope would be Espeon at that point, but I hoped it wouldn't have to come to that. It wouldn't be pretty.

Kingdra bounced on its tail in the snow, and I rattled off attacks continuously. Pikachu had the advantage in this snowy field now, but Kingdra was good. It dodged, attacked, dodged, attacked. Its attacks held Pikachu back, although it avoided damage pretty well. But it had to be getting tired from running around…

And then it struck, its Volt Tackle pushing Kingdra to my feet. I closed my eyes as I returned Kingdra to its Poké Ball, trying to compose myself. But my anger was building, and my legs had begun to shake again. I was done. This was it.

Togekiss went down in a matter of seconds. It never even knew what hit it. Pikachu was levels above my whole team, far more experiences than any Pokémon on my team. I should have respected it—and Red, probably, too—but I hated it more than anything. I should have quit while I was behind…

Here was the problem: battling with one Pokémon left was difficult for me. I didn't usually get myself into this sort of situation, and I certainly hadn't planned on it now. Yet what did I expect? I knew that this wouldn't be my finest battle, and I recognized that Red was a difficult opponent. But I let myself mess up.

Espeon, although very fast and very well-trained, was no match for his Pikachu. None of my Pokémon were. And I knew exactly why.

I fell to my knees in the snow, looking anywhere but at Red. I lost, totally and completely. I was not a sore loser by any means, at least not usually, but I had never felt worse about a loss in my life. There was something humiliating about this whole thing, like my life was turning into one big joke. Everything went tumbling down the snowy hill real fast.

Red stepped towards me, and I finally looked up at him. His hat casting a shadow above his eyes, making eye contact with him a tad less awkward. The snow was falling harder on us now, and he was like a ghost walking towards me. His Pikachu, perched once again on his shoulders, didn't look like it had been scratched. The two could weather this a lot better than I could—but, then, they were the victors.

He stopped in front of me, holding his hand out towards me. I stared at it, my legs starting to freeze in the snow. Still, I didn't grab it. Losing this battle hadn't changed my mind about him—my new perception in place of the old. I had gotten my hopes up, and he had been the one to let me fall. So, I couldn't grab his hand. I couldn't afford for him to let go again.

He sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets after I ignored his offer. "You know," he said, and I winced at the sound of his voice. Crystal clear—a voice of someone trustworthy. Too bad he couldn't have my trust. "I've been up on this mountain for a long time. I don't know anything about the world below anymore. But I can tell you're someone important. You and I—we're a lot alike, I think."

I narrowed my eyes, glaring up at him now. No, we were nothing alike! I had thought so once. He was the Champion of Kanto; I was the Champion of Johto. He stopped Team Rocket; I stopped Team Rocket. He didn't speak; I didn't speak. It was like we were the same person. But we really weren't so similar after all. Two out of three was still failing.

"But…" Red looked off in the distance then, perhaps unable to hold my gaze while I glared at him. "There's something that's keeping you from performing at your top level. I don't know anything about you, and I don't want to make assumptions. I'm just saying that you didn't give that battle your all. I want to battle you another time when you're yourself."

You don't know who "myself" is, I wanted to say, but I didn't want to look like a fool signing or writing on my pad of paper.

"Come find me again sometime," he concluded. He smiled at me, taking a few steps back before sending out his Charizard. He hopped up on the beast's back, waving tentatively at me as he flew off the mountain and left me alone on the summit. He disappeared into the snow after just a couple of seconds, and then it was just me.

I wanted to scream. My Pokémon all fainted, and I hadn't brought any items with me. How could Red leave me all alone like that? I didn't care if he thought I needed it—that maybe I needed some sort of spiritual guidance that he had found on this mountain. I wasn't staying here. I was nothing like Red. I couldn't stay here!

I pushed myself to my feet, my legs shaking from the cold now. Wobbling my way back towards the caves, I crawled inside and sat in the mouth of the cave. The snow on the summit was falling harder and harder, piling up outside the cave, and I just prayed that the snow hadn't accumulated at the foot of the mountain.

Well, without my team all healed up, I would have to make my way very carefully through the cave.

I stood back up, shuffling my feet against the stone ground and holding my hands out in front of me. I was making good progress until I tumbled down a ledge, twisting my knee as I landed. I held my breath, clenching my teeth and squeezing my eyes shut in pain. Great. Things couldn't possibly get any worse for me today.

But they did. Oh, they did.

It began as a groan. The noise grew louder and loader, more like a roar. The wild cave-dwelling Pokémon cried simultaneously, and then the cave began to shake. I covered my ears, glancing around in the darkness and seeing nothing. The rocks and stalactites fell from the roof of the cave, clattering against the ground.

I pulled myself close to the ledge, pushing myself up against it. My knee protested, but I was better off in pain than dead.

Whatever it was that was happening—and I wasn't exactly sure in the darkness—stopped after what seemed like forever. I was relatively unharmed, but any light that had filtered in from the mouth of the cave was no longer available to me.

The cave had collapsed into itself.

Author's Note: Uh-oh. Trapped in a cave. Not good.

Lyra is a cocky little sucker in this chapter. I think her anger and disappointment went to her head. But really. She's not someone I would be friends with in this chapter. But her attitude is a result of her sense of betrayal. It's hard to be let down.

All right, all right. Clearly I'm not as reliable as I like to think I am. Work rushed on me all at once, so I was forced to take a hiatus. But here is another update to make up for it?