Mixed Colors [Pokemon Fanfic]

one

CHAPTER ONE

; Red

I guess it started when I was little, about six or seven. I mean, Green being a friend or just being a better rival, I'm not so sure exactly. He's always been one year older than me, and most people saw him as a conceited brat. I don't know why or how (my mind was pretty messed up), but I counted him as a friend, even though we barely talked. And when we did, we argued and fought. We were never really that close in reality. But one day, when Green and I were assigned a project for a school field trip--

"Eh? Where did he go?" Green's voice echoed throughout the forest. His footsteps cut off some of his words. I could hear him, but his voice sounded too far away. I could also hear his feet pounding against the ground, coming close to where I was, but probably not close enough. I was on the forest floor, petrified in front of many very scary looking Beedrill. "Red? Red! Come on, say something!"

"Green!" I shouted weakly, too frightened to say more. I wasn't even sure he could hear me. I looked down on myself. Yeah, the one time you managed to get trapped in a circle of Beedrill and you're speechless. Great job, Red, I scolded myself.

The red eyes of the Beedrill seemed impatient and furious at me for their hive, five feet away, the honey spilled and the form beaten up. To recall, I was there when it happened, very ignorant, absent-minded, and just in sight when trouble came. But it wasn't me who knocked that yellow thing down, but some bullies that had purposely played with the hive like a pinata. They ran away after noticing that I was there. Worthless jerks. Thanks for making me clean up your dirty mess.

The Beedrill buzzed above my head, a short distance away from my face. They zeroed in to my curled up body. Since I was the brave "Fighter," I stayed there, not moving and paralyzed, my hands shielding my sides. It seemed like Dialga himself stretched out time, making seconds turn into hours. I was pretty sure that I would be attacked painfully anyways. My heartbeat slowed down along with failed attempts to shoo the Pokemon away. I imagined people speaking of how weird my death was at my funeral.

At least I don't have many friends, I thought bitterly. Maybe no one would care. I closed my eyes, ready as heck to give up then. I lost to a flock of wild Beedrill. What a guy.

"Eevee! Sand Attack!" a familiar voice called. A red trace of a Pokemon formed into a cute and powerful being. It landed on its paws and clawed out sand that flew into the Beedrills's eyes, right as if it were listening through the poke ball it had formed from. The attack was a direct hit, since Eevee landed in front of me and the Beedrill were close enough to eat my face off several times. The angered Pokemon tried to scrape the dirt from their eyes, shooting bad-aimed attacks at random trees and fields of grass. Green retrieved his Eevee and grabbed my hand, yanking me to run.

The next few moments, we ran through the deep forest, his grip on my hand hard and tight. It all seemed like a dream, a blurry one. The Beedrills's cries were becoming farther and farther away. Trees and fields of tall grass made it especially hard to find a way out, but Green managed to find an opening.

We ran on that one path until we could see the other classmates's eyes again. After we exited the frightening and dark forest, we collapsed next to each other, exhausted from all of the sprinting. Our classmates saw us, and I could sense them pondering about what had just happened, from their widened eyes to their mouths open as if to say something. All of them, except for the bullies, who huddled up in a corner, trying to ignore our faces.

My eyes were probably on fire, since my stomach bubbled with continuing anger. I felt like even if I destroyed a whole mountain, I wouldn't be satisfied. Those little boys made me look like some weak child who needed help. I mean, I was seven years old, but those jerks made me seem like I was three. I wanted to walk up to them and teach them a lesson, and I tried to. Totally wasn't about to get into trouble doing so.

Green's hand found my arm, pulling me away from the tricksters, forcing me to look into his viridian-black eyes. He stared at me for a second, our eyes locked on each other. A little smile played on his face, but his voice sounded as stern as my father's. That was Green. He was probably amused that I was an idiot.

"Red, it's okay now. We got out alive and healthy, didn't we? It's okay." The words that left his mouth were surprisingly gentle and quiet ones. Green usually sounded like he won a trophy for his great awesomeness or something. No really, he actually said that once.

I just nodded and sat down on the cold, hard dirt path. "Yeah." But it was not okay. I did not want to be a target anymore, nor want anyone to take me for the blame. It might have been selfish, but I didn't really care.

That brown haired boy standing one foot away? That was Green... And he was the only reason out there for the fact that I was still alive.