(Wotcher! I've got a new chapter for you, and you're probably all going to kill me for it, if you hadn't guessed already. I will get back to the actual plot next chapter, but since she's so cool, she needed her own flashback-tastic chapter. If her symptoms aren't perfect, I'm sorry, I don't have a lot to go on. At the very least, I hope you like it.

Peace out, I don't own.)

Do you know when you will die?

I do.

Feels like one hundred years away, but then again, life is not always best viewed in the sideways mirror.

It'll come for me.

I will face Death as an equal, and on my own terms. I won't let her sneak up on me from behind, grab me by the neck, and drag my away, kicking and screaming. I will go willingly, no matter the cost.

...I should back up from the beginning.

My name is Anna Montgomery. I am a Resistance Fighter, and I have five Pokemon, one of which is my soul mate, my lone companion and friend in life. His name is Akira, and I love him.

He was my first Pokemon.

We were a well-to-do family in Pewter; I rubbed elbows with the children of the Sierra family; Soledad was the closest thing I had to a friend for a long time.

And then there were the Greystones, the Quartzes, and the Mica families. They all flocked around me. I was the best trainer in the School. Though that wasn't saying much, since I was almost fifteen.

Also, the School had almost nothing to actually do with Pokemon. It was just a way for kids to learn that, 'golly gee whiz, those Pokemon sure are little vicious critters, aren't they? Jeeves! My mint julep and cigar!'

And there was a lot to do with the 'Status Conditions' of a Pokemon. That's basically what always occupied the board, and it was, frankly, after five years, a little disquieting to know that they hadn't discovered anything more worthwhile than, 'Antidote kills Poison!"

Really? Glad to hear it.

My parents were incredibly overprotective. They kept me locked in my gilded cage of wealth and flights of fancy. They took me to dances and parties, charity balls and galas, all the while grooming me for the life of a socialite.

I thought I wanted that life; it was soft and flabby, a life of getting such a fat arse from sitting all the time, and a brain of meringue for want of intelligent thought.

But for all its flaws, I was told it was the best way to stay alive; the world outside was barbaric and cannibalistic. The world was a vampire that would drain you dry and use your skin to paper its walls.

So I stayed, and I partied, mixing with every fine young gentleman who caught my parents fancy. They were all the same; great conversationalists about themselves. I was merely supposed to nod every so often, and usually, they bored me close enough to sleep that I could manage this for a night or two.

Even without a suitor, my parents prized me like a gem. I was their entire world, and they loved me unconditionally. I loved them back, even though in my heart, I always felt that something wasn't quite... right.

So I started to sneak away from the parties. I wanted to find out what I needed badly enough that I would sometimes wake up crying, wanting something but not knowing exactly what I needed.

I turned to Pokemon battling. It filled the hole, at least for awhile. I didn't wake up crying as much anymore.

The School did actually have a supply of Pokemon; me and a few of the street urchins stole them, and used them in practice battles.

But no one knew of my passion for Pokemon battling, except the urchins, and they had no one to tell. But I suppose than even then, the League was watching us all.

My family had a red X over its door, but now that I was away from the home, the red X no longer applied to me. I was no longer safe from surveillance.

And I loved it. Having something to hate, for the first time in my life. That filled the void. When I had nothing to do but sit and simper about the weather, well, my mind wasn't working on much.

But when I had something to hate, it kicked into overdrive, giving me the most wonderful rush of energy.

The League didn't say anything. They let me have at it, waiting until the right time to do something about me, the little rich girl delinquent.

So it came as a surprise to my parents when I was picked to be a Trainer. They drove me down to Pallet, in fact. They oversaw Gary Oak as he gave the speech he gave to every other trainer.

I surveyed the list. "I want Ralts." I said. A Psychic type would be useful enough. My parents nodded, approving the choice. Gary thought for a second, and surveyed me. He grinned, and instead of taking one from the tube, he handed me a Pokeball on his belt.

"...I found this one a while ago. He needs a good trainer. Can I trust you with it?" He released the Ralts. The coloring was slightly off; it was a cornflower sort of blue, and had tangerine horns. I blinked.

"...Okay?" I told him, nodding at the Ralts.

This one was without a doubt, male. Female Ralts were all that were given out to female Trainers; Gallade weren't prohibited by this point, under Bruce, but they were becoming frowned upon. And Gary obviously knew it.

He was baiting me, seeing my reaction. I smirked, and shrugged up at him, recalling Ralts, and walking out with my parents.

When we got back to Pewter, I challenged Flint, the old brother of some strange kid I sort-of knew named Brock. I quickly lost. With resolve in my heart, I trained—and named—Ralts.

His name was Akira; knowledge. And our bond grew as we trained; we learned from each other, learned how to survive as Pokemon and trainer.

We became so strong. By the time we challenged Flint again, I'd caught Lucifer, who was at that point just a Poochyena, and we were fully prepared.

It was during a crucial moment in the match with the Graveler that Akira decided would be a good time to evolve. He stood there, a Kirlia. He grinned, and unleashed a Psychic that won us the battle.

I was amazed beyond belief. I hugged him happily, and I promised him we'd be the best pair of fighters ever.

Before I die, you know, I'd like to make good on that promise. If I have the all-precious gift of time.

But I'm drifting off subject.

We tackled the first three gyms with ease. He was itching to evolve, and I wanted him to, but I didn't know how to procure a Dawn Stone. They were almost exclusively a Sinnoh stone, and the ones that Kanto DID have were well over eighteen thousand Poke-pounds.

I didn't want to ask my parents for help; they could've afforded it, but I wanted to do this on my own.

So we continued on our way to Celadon. Lucifer had evolved, and so had my Trapinch, Subakami. She was, thankfully, strong enough to carry me around. We had just cleared Rock Tunnel when we decided to make camp.

"Anna? Are you okay?" Akira asked me that night. I had been sitting outside, watching the stars winking at me, just thinking about how quiet it was, and how nice that could be. I patted the ground next to me absentmindedly, making the gesture almost subconsciously.

"I suppose so, yes. C'mere, sit with me, would ya?" We sat in silence. Neither of us made a single sound, not even to breathe. Together, we watched the sun rise.

The valley below us turned gold, a flaming phoenix rising from the dark. The trees were molten sun, glimmering brightly enough that they appeared to be ablaze.

"...The world is quiet here." Akira whispered, staring at the flaming sphere of energy. The sun was slowly rising. As it did, he smiled. "Wotcher. Isn't this nice?" I nodded.

He took my hand in his. I smiled, and clasped his slim hand in mine. He leaned against me, and whispered, "Close your eyes." I did, but the white glow permeated my eyelids, giving me the impression I was blinded for life.

It stopped glowing soon enough. Without him asking, I opened my eyes. He stood there, fully evolved. His eyes glimmered mischievously at me. His arms had blades on the ends of them, taut muscle and skin formed to protect and serve his trainer.

His legs had gotten longer, and the skirt-like thing and pigtail feelers had shortened; instead, his head gave the appearance of being under a cerulean helmet. His single head horn was still a violent tangerine.

I blinked. "..." I didn't want to break the bubble surrounding the moment. He did it for me, thankfully. "I suppose the sun's rising must've mimicked the Dawn Stone, huh?" I continued to stare.

"...I guess." I checked the map. "Oh, and we're near Evolution Mountain; that place where all the stones come from. I guess it amplifies the dawn and dusk around here." And just like that, we were left with nothing to say.

He shook his head. And for a second, his eyes welled with tears. He knelt before me, and placed his hand on my waist. I almost squeaked in shock. Well, I wasn't expecting that. He grinned.

"...I will serve you all my days. I swear this, as your loyal servant. You will be my life, Anna." I was stunned by this burst of love. I wasn't complaining, but it was a bit unexpected.

The hits just kept on coming. He smiled at me, and pulled himself up. He wound his arms around my waist, and pulled me to him. "...The world is quiet here." He repeated, laying his chin on the top of my head. I said nothing for a minute. Then, with a smile, I said;

"Yes."

Celadon City wasn't far away. The trip was quick; I hung on to Subakami's legs, and her Vibrava wings carried me there. I had guiltily recalled Akira, but I didn't have the means to carry him, too.

Over the buzzing of Suba's wings, I contemplated Akira's new form. His eyes were still the same. His gentle, loving, intelligent eyes. The real Dawn Stone's glimmer could never have matched those things.

His body was the color of marble and cerulean. To put it shortly, he was a work of art. I didn't, at the time, think this was wrong in the slightest. I hadn't had enough experience with either sex to determine what was wrong or not.

But the League was doing that for me as I contemplated this, so to speak.

We arrived in Celadon, and I released Akira, taking him with me to the Game Corner. He took a few coins out of my hands, and played a slot.

Moments later, he was handing me a giant stuffed Vulpix. He grinned, having just won the jackpot. I smiled, and hugged him. "Thank you." He kept grinning, and took my hand, and led me out of the Game Corner.

"Let's paint the town red, doll." And with that, we rushed off to do just that.

That was the best night of my life, until the ending. We were on the roof on the Celadon Department store, and we had gotten each other Lemonades. We stared at the stars for awhile, until Akira broke the silence.

"I love you." He said matter-of-factly. I turned to him, and gazed at him incredulously. His eyes crinkled in a smile. "I am serious, you know." I shook my head.

"It's not that. I just... I just..." I was probably preparing a great retort to this, when he stopped all thought by hugging me.

"Sssh. Just accept it at face value for the moment, will you, doll?" He whispered cheerily in my ear. I tried really hard not to melt into him, I really did. But it was impossible, and I just gave up and melted.

I don't even remember kissing. All I remember after that is a gun being pointed at my head.

"Whore." A heavy man's voice hissed, breath arid and warm in my ear. I shuddered. I tried to call out to Akira, but he saw my lips move, and shoved the gun into my head, painfully colliding with my skull.

Akira was being held in place by a group of snarling Mightyena. He was powerless; Psychic wouldn't work on Dark types, and he had no other way of getting out of that situation.

So he did the most illogical and crazy thing he could; he fought them in hand-to-hand combat.

With any other Gallade, this would make sense. But he had just evolved, and was still adjusting to his extendable swords and newfound fighting ability.

They leapt on him like rabid wolves, until he disappeared under a writhing and squirming mass of fur. I opened my mouth to scream, but my vocal cords disobeyed me. I closed my eyes, and readied to accept my fate, and as the gun suddenly burst into life behind me, I prayed to whoever was up there that it wouldn't hurt—

"No." That one word was spoken with so much intensity that looking back on it, I honestly wondered if it was his voice and not his Psychic that shattered the gun.

The Mightyena lay in a heap by the soda machine. I was stunned, but chose to leave that for later.

The man was left staring at me. I sized him up as I turned around. He was a League employee, a plainclothes one from the look of him. I looked back at Akira. His sword was almost rent in two, and it was practically gushing an ocean of blood. He shrugged sheepishly, as if to say, 'What can you do, eh?'

"Akira." I said calmly. "Stand by." He stood at attention, and did the best he could to heal the wound with his mind. I turned to the man.

"Either leave us now, or I will not hesitate to have him kill you. Or," I stated, leaning in closer to him, "I will do it myself." The man got one look at my face, and fled, recalling the Mightyena as he went.

The citizens on the roof stared at us in amazement. I looked at Akira. "So. Um, anyone here a doctor?"

We rushed him to the hospital, and they stitched him up best they could; it was too much a job for a Joy. I sighed, and fell asleep that night fitfully.

The next morning, I woke up coughing. I shrugged it off, even though my throat was raw. It might've just been a cold.

That's what I kept telling myself as we traveled away from Celadon. That it was just a cold, or a stomach bug, or whatever excuses my mind concocted.

And then it got worse. It escalated from coughing fits to sessions of vomiting that were so awful they left my mouth feeling like a vat of acid had spilled inside it, and from sleepiness every so often to me feeling so weak it took every effort I had to stand, much less walk.

Yet I denied what was becoming an obvious truth; that I was seriously ill. I ignored it, and pretended it didn't exist; that way, I wouldn't have to deal with it. I just slept, or used Subakami to fly me around.

Akira knew something was up, but out of respect from me, said nothing until that night where I literally passed out mid-flight. I slid off Subakami, and fell down. I should've screamed or done something, but I was just too tired.

Akira exploded out of his Pokeball, and used a Psychic to levitate me. We were at eye level, and I was left staring at him. His eyes were widened with fear, and set in determination.

"You're going to a doctor."

We found one quickly enough in Fuchsia; they had a lot of doctors for Safari-Zone incidents, which I suppose they had by the dozen.

The man took one look at me, before flooring us all with his declaration.

"She has leukemia. And it's too late to do anything, I'm afraid."

My parents had been summoned; conveniently, they had been in Fuchsia to celebrate the Warden's daughter's marriage. My mother burst into tears. My father kept a rigid composure, but his eyes betrayed his horror.

I stared at him, and in a raspy, rattling voice, I asked, "How long?" The doctor frowned.

"I'd say about a year or two, even with treatment. I'm sorry." I nodded, and left my parents to keep discussing treatment options.

I went through one vicious round of chemotherapy before I refused any more treatment. My hair fell out, and I was even worse than before.

Instead, I took my Pokemon, and ran away, to find the person I had been seeking for so long.

Red.

He was the stuff of legend; he was whispered in secret gatherings. He was the forbidden; he had, by this point, a three hundred thousand Poke-pound bounty on his head. But some people say he lived inside Mt. Moon, biding his time for a strike against the League.

I hunted him down, going through Fuchsia and Saffron, and collecting their badges before setting off for Mount Moon. It took me about a month, and without the treatment, I suppose you could say I thrived; at the least, I didn't throw up anymore.

The mouth of the cave loomed ominously at me. I was stricken by another fainting spell, and clutching my head, I slumped down, striking a rock on the way.

A door on the side of the mountain opened slowly. I stared up at it in amazement. "Should we go in?" Akira asked hesitantly. I nodded, and clutching him for support, I limped in.

The entire place was like a kid's idea of a lab for evil villains. I snorted in laughter. He was kidding, surely. But I supposed not, since after all, he'd evaded capture for so long.

There was a lone man sitting there. Red. He smiled faintly at me. "I heard you've been looking for me. Why?" I looked at Akira, and I looked at Red.

"...I want to fight. This entire League." I don't think he had been expecting that, and could only choke out, "Why?" I grinned.

"Kid, I've got about a year left to live. If I'm going to die, I might as well do it with a bang."

Those words foretold my death better than any doctor ever could.

And as she saw me make the biggest decision of my life—

Death laughed.