Dame yo!
Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism. Thank you. *Phantomness bows*

Notes: <> for telepathy, ** for thoughts, italics if a pokemon talks

Warnings: Fanon references

Chapter 5

Living at the Plateau was – not uncomfortable, but it was crowded. It was preferable to a crowded city, but he ached for solitude, and oh, he wanted quiet, peace and quiet and enough time to think.

So he left. He sweet-talked a Pidgeotto into taking him to Whirl Islands, and then willed them all to forget. Who would know? Only the Elite, and they were not discreet…

He was suspired when Red came to find him a week later. He was soaking in a hot spring, watching a few Hariisen dart around the pool.

“Why are you here?”

“I came to visit.” Red grinned. “Do you mind?”

“No, not really…” The idea that anyone would visit though, was strange. The cosmos must have tilted while he was not paying attention.

Red cheerfully brought out two ice cream bars he had somehow managed to hide and keep cool in his backpack and handed one to Wataru. Wataru laughed, accepting one. He hadn’t had chocolate in quite a while.

“Why do you stay here?” Red finally asked.

Wataru gave him an odd look. “I have nowhere else to go.” He said quietly.

Red looked rather taken aback at that statement. “But Wataru, you could always stay with Ibuki – you know that your Grandfather is gone, well, dead, or you could stay with us at the Plateau. We wouldn’t mind!”

Wataru laughed a bit sadly, shaking his head and sending wisps of white hair out of his face. “That’s not it, Red. I don’t belong there.”

“Why not?” Red asked. “You don’t have to be a trainer, Wataru…”

“Do you want to see?”

Red frowned at the strange phrasing, but he nodded. Wataru stood, wrapping a towel around his waist as he exited the pool, before he placed his hands against Red’s temples, and closed his eyes.

The images tumbled across his eyes like drops of falling rain, a few in the beginning but afterwards nothing but pokemon living their lives in the Islands…

And nothing else.

“You don’t like people.” Red deduced. Wataru nodded.

“I don’t really blame you, after what you Grandfather was like…”

“I like Kanna, and Ibuki, and Kikuko. And I like you.” Wataru shook his head. “But others? No.”

“Are you afraid to go back? Is that why?”

“If I were to be truthful, yes….”

“But Wataru, not all people are bad.” Red starts to say, but then he bites his lips as he envisions fat men smoking cigars in their overstuffed chairs, and ratty men counting coins, and the droning voice of the leader of the Council, and he chokes.

And Wataru frowns, and asks him if he feels all right, and Red shakes his head, and that is when Wataru kisses him.

It is a nice kiss, almost timid, but cold, and that surprises him, because someone who has been sitting in a hot spring should not be cold, but it’s a nice kind of cool, like polished marble, and when the kiss breaks, he is almost sad.

His headache is receding as well, and Wataru presses fingers over his throat, and he sighs, because the pain is fading away so easily….

This is true power….

Wataru is surprised when Red does not run from him. He has never needed to use his powers on humans before, save himself, and he would understand if Red found it odd, even frightening, but he sees none of that, only not quite fear but admiration.

Red snuggles into his chest, and tips his head up for another kiss, so he indulges him.

Red perhaps, is the sort of person he could fall in love with – the only kind of person, who does not care for wealth or title, but for pokémon and for a safe land. Almost like a ruler, except that as Champion, he is only a figurehead.

But it’s all right. If he leaves him alone, Red will go back with a bit more understanding, and someday, perhaps he can lead Kanto to glory.

He is not sure he wants to take that path.

Red is not sure what is going on, things are passing by too quickly and he feels like he’s been swept away in a riptide current, but Wataru’s hands are on his shoulders and he wants very badly to kiss him again and then…

And then things just slide from there, and before he knows it, he’s crying out not because it hurts but because it feels good and it shouldn’t!

And then Wataru kisses him again, and all his misgivings vanish.

When it’s over, they lie together in warm water and Wataru runs long fingers through his hair, and Red wonders why it happened. There’s something about Wataru, something in him that he wants, and until he gets it, he’ll stay here.

He wants, even if they have to do… other things.

But he doesn’t mind, not really, because Wataru is special. His eyes are filled with a strange kind of light, and Red wants that light. Wataru is cold and polished, but Red wants that too. Wataru can heal but he doesn’t train pokemon, and Red doesn’t care.

“Why do I feel this way about you?” He asks, as he kisses Wataru’s throat, feeling the pulse quicken with a touch of pleasure. “Why?”

Wataru does not answer but he doesn’t need one. He’s talking for his own good, and it feels… nice.

“Why are you so special to me?”

Wataru says nothing, but Red sighs and leans against him, and he feels strong arms wrap around his waist. “Why do you know everything?”

Wataru shouldn’t know, but Red has seen memory even as gold clashed with crimson, and right now, he thinks Wataru is the most precious thing in the world, all silvery white with golden eyes.

“Wataru,” He whispers, and this time, he wants an answer. “What did Lugia give you? Why are you here?”

The minute the question is asked, he thinks it’s stupid, but Wataru starts to tremble, and he knows that he has hit a chord.

He knows.

He knows, even before Wataru answers – how could he not? The answer is in the question.

He sees a thousand lifetimes spiraling behind his eyes now, and he bites his lip and then his tongue to keep from crying out, because he sees pain and sorrow and despair, and faith and hope and love, and above all, death and life painted in black and violet, so different from silvery-white-gold and dark blue so dark it is almost black. Such a change from brilliant crimson and verdant, emerald green…

And Wataru holds him closer, as he feels the barest touch of feathers on his cheeks.

End Chapter

Completed 8/16/05

… Yeah, went off on a different tangent because I needed championshipping.

I like Charlotte. While she may not appear in most of my fics, it is entirely possible she will be referenced. Anti-Phantomness-fanon readers beware!