Title: intensity in ten cities (1/10)
Author: meadowplate
Themes: #8. legato (slipping away) #26. under your skin (30_angsts)
Fandom: Pokémon
Pairing: Silver/Kris (Crystal gameverse)
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon! Please don't sue me.
Summary: They both went to Hoenn to escape old ghosts; they both realized just how fake their problems really were.
Author's Notes: I worry that I leaked some of Paul's personality into Silver even though he received ~*character development*~ at the end of Crystal. *le sigh* They're pretty much carbon copies of each other, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem.

"trembling at the thought of feeling
wide awake and keeping distance.
nothing seems to penetrate her.
she's scared as hell.
i am frightened too.
wide awake and keeping distance from my soul
i am scared like you."

-cold and ugly ;; tool

i. rustboro city

She could compare his absence to having a breath of fresh air after being underwater for a second too long.

Throughout Johto and Kanto, they had grown together; she has no trouble admitting this. He pulled her out of the clouds and forced her to realize that there's much more to see on the ground than anywhere in the sky; likewise, she taught him the humble art of being a decent human being. In a way, they know each other better than anyone else.

That, however, doesn't testify to the fact that she wants nothing to do with him anymore. She doesn't know where he is, doesn't know what he's doing – and frankly, she has no desire to find out.

Rustboro certainly makes an overwhelming first impression on her when she first arrives, but she could attribute that to the fact that she is absolutely exhausted and looking at this entire Hoenn deal with crooked rose-colored glasses that she had stowed away shortly after taking on Kanto.

She waited an entire year to come here, just to make sure that he gave up any potential plans of following her and continuing to be a thorn in her side. It was fun and all when they were ten, but it gets annoying at thirteen.

Shuffling through the streets, occasionally stopping someone to ask for directions (damn her for not getting a map earlier), she almost cries tears of joy when she finally finds the Pokémon Center. She doesn't wait a moment before rushing in –

- and any hope she has is promptly crushed when she hears the very voice that is supposed to be gone from her life.

"I was wondering when you'd finally get here. Always a step behind, as usual."

She turns her head slightly to see him and she can already feel her blood boiling. No, this isn't supposed to happen, she just wants him to go away—

"How strange that you would say that," she says bitterly, planting her hands on her hips. "I seem to remember being the one who beat you all the time."

He smirks and takes a step towards her, and she suddenly feels small (much too small for someone like her); he's taller now, and she can feel an inexplicable blush blooming on her face.

"I hate to say it, stupid girl, but we're on equal ground now," he tells her, voice condescending and oh Arceus, one punch across the face is all she wants.

"That's great, and I'm glad that you're so very humble, but the last thing I want right now is to deal with you."

"What, you're not happy to see me again? I'm heartbroken."

She raises her eyebrows; she can't help but be skeptical of his sarcasm when he was once so straightforward in his arrogance. She still can't quite grasp the concept that he is here, right before her eyes, almost exactly three years after he dashed off with a Pokemon from Professor Elm's lab.

Any outsider looking in would laugh and mutter something stupid about oh, young love, as if they remember what being young felt like – as if they know what fleeting thoughts pass through her mind.

She sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose. "Why are you here?"

"I figured it would be obvious, but I guess I shouldn't have set my expectations so high for you," he says, his voice suddenly harsher. "I'm going to take on the Ever Grande League. What else would I be here for, stupid girl?"

The sudden change in his attitude has her scowling. "What's your problem?"

Her glares at her for a moment before pushing past her.

"I liked you better when you were a pushover," he tells her icily, and there's no going back. The hatred has been established, and maybe she shouldn't care as much as she actually does.

The prince and princess are at odds once again.

She doesn't sleep that night.

She's doing everything right; lying down, head against the pillow, steady breathing, eyes closed – but nothing comes. Not a single sliver of drowsiness. Not the tiniest bit of peace passes through her mind.

Everything is at a standstill, but that's somewhat of a relief, considering the fact that the accused is merely two rooms away from her. She's almost afraid that the next time they're in close proximity, the universe will collapse into itself from the paradox they create.

When did the blithe, cheerful trainer turn into the shadow of a champion? When was bitterness injected into her veins and pumped through her body? She's tempted to call this an overnight transformation, but things simply don't happen. It's cause and effect, and when there is a y but no x, it's natural to be frustrated.

—It's natural to be afraid.

"You must be Kris! It's a pleasure to meet you; my name is Roxanne."

Rustboro's gym leader is much warmer than Falkner and Brock had been, and she's ambivalent regarding its benefit; a jagged beginning would be a healthy dose of tough love – but then, the very last thing she needs is tough love.

She mindlessly extends a hand to shake Roxanne's, telling her, "Same here. Let me guess, you're a Rock-type trainer too?"

The gym itself is erring on the side of caution by taking a minimalist approach; few trainers are in sight and the walls are pale yellow, almost hurting her eyes. She's begun to wonder if these places are purposely built to insult interior design.

The brunette nods her head, shaking her hand and stepping back. "Indeed I am. You've done your homework on Hoenn, I see." She pauses for a moment and a look of uncertainty passes over her features. "I feel honored to have the chance to battle with an interregional champion."

She understands; she seems to intimidate people by existing.

"Well, let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

And there is no happiness. The fire, the thrill has been eliminated.

Simply because she is good at what she does.

The first key to being happy is to force happiness out of nothing. A seed grows in the dirt, after all.

She refuses to blame herself as she examines the Stone Badge, bowing and thanking Roxanne for her time, it really was a pleasure.

There's a certain amount of self-awareness that she possesses but conveniently sweeps under the rug when the time is supposedly right. She prides herself on knowing exactly when the time is right, but she just can't be sure now. So she offers her appreciation, turns on her heel, and leaves the gym, debating on a course of action. She wants nothing more than to leave and find a way to somehow reach Dewford before dusk arrives.

(Some joke right there, anyway.)

Something is keeping her here; she can't say with any degree of certainty what it is, but it's almost as though she'll be pushed right back in if she tries to depart. An invisible wall, a force field—

She swallows and fights back tears, because she knows.

She knows, but she will never understand.

Memories come back to her in a sudden, unforgiving flood and she's reminded of why she doesn't take many trips down Memory Lane anymore. Things were so simple; the playing field was uneven. She had the slight of hand because she wasn't a depraved boy like him. She was just a girl.

And deep within her, that little girl is trapped in a casing of acrimony and dead promises. Deep within her, she knows that she's just as cruel as he is.

It's three in the afternoon, and she has a brush with an epiphany, barely making it out alive.

ii.

He did like her better when she was a pushover because they're the same now, and he doesn't think he could deal with a person like him. No, that isn't right (he's dealt with others of his kind before) – he doesn't think he could deal with her becoming like him.

It's (almost) laughable, (almost) inevitable. Adolescence is the time when innocence frosts over and morphs into something that isn't quite maturity, but nowhere near the childish folly of years gone by.

All teenagers want something called love. Silver was presented with this fact by the quirkiest woman he ever had the (mis)fortune of meeting; her mother.

'Ah, you're a friend of Kris's, right?—' (no use in correcting her) '—Hey, why don't you sit down?'

(A simple invitation gone awry.)

'I worry about her sometimes. But I suppose that's what all teenagers go through. I hope she finds a nice boy someday on her journey. Hm? What's that? Well, she's a bit of an attention seeker, but all she really wants is love without the side effects. I think that's what all teenagers want – love without complications. It's kind of sad that it doesn't exist.'

He didn't understand it when she initially put it out there – how anyone could understand her at any age is beyond him – but he's gradually seeing what she meant by that.

He's left wondering who the hell came here to escape their ghosts first; him or her, it probably doesn't even matter at this point because they both know that this is truly boredom at its finest.

She's leaving the gym when he sees her, and he can't say if she's going to stay here or leave the first opportunity she gets. It had a tendency of varying when they were—

He immediately purges his mind of any recollections about their stupid ten-year-old selves in Johto.

She glances, sees him and raises an eyebrow. Rightfully so.

He sees her and doesn't do anything. Rightfully so.

He can imagine what their conversation would be.

'Go home.'

'Screw you, it's not like anyone's waiting for me—'

It's sad how their lines are interchangeable. Depressing sad, pathetic sad, when her real self would say something like, 'What makes you think I'd go home now of all times?' She wouldn't say that no one is waiting for her, because someone is.

Just not the person she wants.

He sees her leaving Rustboro and he feels…nothing. Not even pity.

Especially not pity.

She might need the same faith placed in her that she placed in him when they hardly understood the very concept of inner betterment.

But he won't be able to give it to her. She can fight her own battles this time.