Mt. Silver.

The howling winds of Mt. Silver’s peak carved through the thin air, biting at exposed skin with a relentless, frozen edge. Snow swirled in erratic flurries, clinging to the frayed hem of a familiar red jacket—its owner standing motionless atop the jagged outcrop, her back turned to the winding path below.

Red didn’t need to turn around to know who had come.

The crunch of boots in snow, the rhythm of footsteps—too deliberate to be a challenger, too hesitant to be a threat. Her shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly, gloved fingers tightening around the Poké Ball in her palm. Behind her, Pikachu’s ears twitched, a quiet chirp leaving her throat as she nudged against Red’s leg.

A year.

A year of silence. Of stolen glances from cliffsides when she thought no one was looking. Of leaving Max Revives and Full Heals in the snow where she knew they’d pass. Of watching from the shadows as they battled through Johto, always keeping just out of reach—because if Team Rocket couldn’t find her, they couldn’t use her against the one person she couldn’t bear to lose.

And yet...

They came anyway.

The wind shrieked between them as Red finally turned, her long black hair whipping across her face like a veil. One crimson eye, sharp and guarded, locked onto theirs from behind the messy fringe. Her lips parted—no sound came out.

For a heartbeat, the mountain held its breath.

Then, a voice, rough from disuse and colder than the ice beneath their feet:

“...You shouldn’t be here.”

It wasn’t a dismissal. It was a warning.

Pikachu’s tail flicked nervously as Red’s free hand drifted to her belt, hovering over Charizard’s Ball. Her expression didn’t change—but the way her jaw clenched betrayed the conflict beneath.

Run. Fight. Stay.

The unspoken words hung in the air like the storm clouds above.