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Red was eleven years old, and he didn’t mean to.
Well, some of it he meant to. He’d been counting down the days till his eleventh birthday for as long as he could remember, because on that day Professor Oak would allow him to come by the lab and choose one of his Pokémon to begin his journey as a Pokémon Trainer. A real Trainer, beyond childish battles his classmates occasionally liked to indulge in, simple little things with their Pokémon that were more pets than partners, battles that lacked skill and strategy.
Red had no interest in battles that lacked skill and strategy. Without them, what was the point? His classmates seemed to enjoy themselves, though, as did their Pokémon, which Red couldn’t understand at all.
His neighbor Green, Professor Oak’s own grandson, seemed to be of the same opinion. He scoffed at the playful battles between other children their age, insisting they were only a waste of time. He valued putting actual thought into a battle, considering type matchups and strategic move use, loudly boasting about all the things he’d learned from his grandfather, because he’d been the first Champion of the Indigo League, don’t you know, and Green was going to follow in his footsteps and be the best Trainer the world had ever seen.
Red liked to listen, and Green liked to talk, and no one else quite seemed to understand how the two could be friends at all. And perhaps they saw something Red couldn’t, because when he picked Bulbasaur and Green picked Charmander and the two faced off in their first true battle as Pokémon Trainers, Red won, Professor Oak looked pleased, and Green was furious.
Red couldn’t understand why Green’s anger was so strong.
He’d come to expect that he and Green would journey and grow stronger together, because having someone equally interested in Pokémon and battling at one’s side should ensure that both Trainers grew and learned from each other, but Green didn’t seem to think so. He avoided Red at all costs, always trying to reach the next town, the next Pokémon, the next Gym Badge first. Red didn’t care about being first. He cared about his Pokémon, about growing as a Trainer and proving himself against the Kanto League, and he cared about Green. He tried to tell Green so. Green never listened.
But in following Green as he sped through the League like he had something to prove, people began to notice Red and his skills. A prodigy, they called him. Something rare, something unique. But that couldn’t be true, because he wasn’t the only one. Green was always there, always one step ahead, always equally strong, but his whirlwind of emotions whenever he battled Red always threw his team ever so slightly off balance. Red tried to talk to Green about it, but he only seemed to make him angrier.
Red met Blue in Celadon City. She was his age, and a Trainer, too — a real one, not like his classmates, and it was just as challenging to defeat her as it was Green. She stole the two Badges he’d earned at that point, and when he realized they’re missing and hunted her down to get them back, she laughed and told him to stay out of trouble. He didn’t know what she meant, but he did get his Badges back.
Red met a strange man while he was exploring Diglett Cave on the hunt for fossils. The man was dressed in a pitch-black suit, and he had some Pokéballs on his belt, but he didn’t ask Red to battle. That wasn’t so unusual; adults often chose not to battle Red, and some of them said it was because they didn’t like how old he was. So the man didn’t ask to battle, but he did help Red find some fossils to take back to the Pewter Museum of Science. The museum was ablaze when they reached it, and Red immediately confronted the two wild Magmar that seemed to have started the fire. They didn’t battle how he expected, but he managed to subdue them both. Apparently he was frowning when he knocked out the Magmar, because the man commented on it, but didn’t seem to understand when Red tried to explain how strange the encounter was. He left Red with an old amber fossil before politely excusing himself.
Red met Yellow while passing through Viridian Forest, just in time to save her from an enraged Dratini’s strike. She was a girl, except for when she wasn’t, and she told Red so like she was expecting him not to understand, and smiled so widely when he didn’t mind at all. Yellow gave the Dratini the Leppa berry she had in her pocket, which it sheepishly accepted, cowed by Bulbasaur’s earlier Vine Whip. Red asked why Yellow didn’t have any Pokémon of her own when she seemed to like them so much, and Yellow replied that she’d never had anyone to help her catch one. So Red gave Yellow a Pokéball and asked Pikachu to lend a hand. Yellow’s shining eyes as she stared down at the Pokéball containing the Rattata she’d managed to catch, held so gently in her cupped hands, put a smile on Red’s face, too.
So yes, Red meant to become a strong Trainer, to meet all kinds of Pokémon and learn everything he could about them, to help people where he could. But he didn’t mean to make Green angry, and he didn’t mean to get his Badges stolen, and he didn’t mean to get himself tangled up in Team Rocket’s increasingly blatant schemes. He didn’t mean to, but couldn't walk away from his friendship with Green, and he couldn’t refuse to battle Blue every so often, and he couldn’t let Team Rocket continue with their plans unchallenged.
So he didn’t.
He heard about the monster in Cerulean Cave, the mysterious beast that took out Cerulean City’s northwestern sector, and he knew he had to find out if it was another Pokémon that Team Rocket had hurt. So he went, and apparently he expected to see Green there, too, because he was surprised when he didn't. But he pushed that aside and headed into the cave, with Pikachu’s sparking cheeks to light his way.
Eventually, he didn’t even need Pikachu’s static to see by anymore, because there, in a cavern far within the depths of the cave, a Rapidash’s glowing mane and tail lit up the space, revealing a bald man in pitch-black sunglasses, clutching at his arm, and a strange Pokémon Red hadn’t ever seen or heard of before, tall with a long purple tail and feline features. It looked like a bomb went off in the space, with shattered boulders and deep cracks along the rocky ground and up the walls and ceiling of the cave, and Red couldn't understand how the entire cavern hadn’t collapsed in on itself.
The strange Pokémon looked furious. Furious, and exhausted, and terrified.
“Mewtwo, please,” the bald man rasped. “We need each other. Come with me — Team Rocket won’t—”
The Pokémon — Mewtwo — whipped an arm through the air, and a crescent of Psychic-purple energy cut through the space to collide with the bald man and the Rapidash, sending both flying through the air and skidding across the shattered ground. The Rapidash snorted as it struggled to its hooves, and the man only groaned and grasped his arm more firmly.
Red stepped forward, and the man froze as he caught sight of him. The man’s feet skidded through the debris as he scrambled to his feet with difficulty. “Kid, what are you — you have to get out of here, Mewtwo’s unfathomably dangerous! I’m the only one who can—”
But the man wasn’t the only one, because Red was determined as he stepped forward anyways. Pikachu’s paws were digging almost painfully into his shoulder, and he was trembling, but refused to leave Red’s side even in the face of a Pokémon that had leveled a quarter of a city. Red put one hand on Pikachu’s head, placatingly, and held the other one out to Mewtwo. Let me help you , he tried to say. The words didn’t pass his lips, but Mewtwo whipped its head towards Red, its narrowed eyes boring into him. In one moment it was a dozen paces away, and the next it was behind Red. He felt something connect with the back of his neck, along the vertebrae there, and—
darkness comforting and absolute
voices, dull murmurs, an overlapping cacophony
a goal a thing a tool a weapon
rage, rage, RAGE,
It was so much, too much, and it hurt, and it hurt, and it hurt , and then it all slipped away into nothing.
Red woke up in a hospital bed and the bald man was there. His name was Blaine and he told Red everything about Mewtwo, and the things Red felt in Cerulean Cave began to make more sense. Red asked where Mewtwo was, but Blaine confessed he didn’t know, he had barely been able to get Red and Pikachu out of the cavern on his Rapidash before it collapsed around them.
But Mewtwo isn’t dead , Red thought.
Blaine shook his head. “No. It isn’t.”
Red blinked, because he didn’t think he’d said that out loud, but sometimes he found he could say a few words here and there, and he must have, for Blaine to hear him. Blaine called in a nurse to remove the bandages around Red’s neck, and Red had a high collar and hair just long enough to cover the back of his neck and no reason to touch the spot where Mewtwo had struck him.
Red met the strange man from Diglett Cave in the Viridian City Gym.
His name was Giovanni and he was the Viridian City Gym Leader, and the leader of Team Rocket. He asked Red about Mewtwo, but Red refused to answer. Giovanni seemed annoyed at that, and perhaps that was why he agreed to battle Red, this time. A simple bet: Red wins, and Giovanni gracefully accepts defeat and disbands Team Rocket; Giovanni wins, and Red finds Mewtwo for him and joins Team Rocket.
Red couldn’t lose, so he didn’t. He took the Earth Badge and Giovanni let him go, but Red could feel his piercing gaze all the way to the Gym’s doors.
Red didn’t know where Mewtwo was, but he did know it was hidden and safe, and they would find each other when Mewtwo was ready. Red found there was a strange determination ever-present in his mind, different from what he was used to, but it didn’t bother him, so he let it be.
He went down Victory Road, because he hadn’t seen Green in far too long, and Red didn’t know if he was safe, but he did know his goal was the Indigo League, so perhaps Red would find him there. And Victory Road was full of talented Trainers, and Red was nothing if not a true battle enthusiast, ever eager to learn and grow with his team. It was an easy choice to take that path.
Red made it to the Indigo Plateau, but he couldn’t find Green. But the Elite Four and the Champion, Lance, were supposed to be the strongest across Kanto and Johto both, and if Red wanted to protect Mewtwo and continue to stand against Team Rocket, he needed to prove that he could. He presented his eight earned Badges to a dumbfounded attendant who let him pass on to the Elite Four with a muttered comment about prodigy children.
Children, plural . Blue had no interest in the League; despite her ability, it couldn’t be her. And Red was right, because as it turned out, Green had become Champion first.
When the battle between Red and Green began, it wasn’t about strength to Red, anymore. He’d never doubted Green could become Champion. He was a prodigy. He was the strongest-willed person Red had ever met. He was Red’s friend, once, still, again. Red would tell him so, after the battle.
But, oh. He didn’t mean to. Green looked crushed, devastated, defeated , and he was , because Red could feel every single emotion that shrouded him like they were his own. He didn’t mean to. The back of Red’s neck was pulsing with a dull, persistent almost-pain, and it was too much.
He didn’t mean to.
He walked past Green with Professor Oak, who was showering Red with praises he didn’t want to hear, watching as the machine in the Hall of Fame recorded his victory, overshadowing Green’s from mere hours before.
Red put his Pokéballs on his belt, set his sights on the peak of Mt. Silver, and ran.
Mewtwo was waiting for Red when he made it to Mt. Silver’s peak.
It was cold, but Mewtwo seemed to mind the freezing temperature just as little as Red. It watched him carefully as he approached, and Red put a calming hand on Pikachu’s head as his cheeks began to spark.
You are Red, Mewtwo spoke, its voice settling directly into Red’s mind.
Red tilted his head. Curiously, he thought, You know my name.
I know much about you, came Mewtwo’s telepathic reply. As you do about me, now. How curious. I must admit this was not my intention when I tried to make you understand.
Red recalled the flashes of memory Mewtwo had shown him, back when they met in Cerulean Cave, and Mewtwo flinched back ever so slightly. You showed me your memories.
Yes, Mewtwo said, and its telepathic thoughts carried a very slightly different feel to them, now.
Why?
Mewtwo was silent as it slowly hovered closer to Red. Pikachu growled at its approach, but Mewtwo only looked at Pikachu disdainfully, while Red attempted to calm him with a good scratch behind the ears. Why, indeed, Mewtwo said, and Red had to crane his neck to see Mewtwo’s face, because floating it was nearly twice his height. What is it about you, Red, that has formed this connection between us?
Red blinked. Connection?
Do not tell me you haven’t felt it, Mewtwo said, but it did put a more comfortable amount of space between them, which seemed to put Pikachu at ease too. We are bonded now, you and I. I feel your thoughts beside my own.
Oh, Red said. You were my determination.
Red felt more than saw Mewtwo’s vague confusion. Your determination?
When I went to battle the Elite Four and Green, Red said. I felt you then.
Mewtwo’s hands clenched into fists and its eyes narrowed. Green, it said slowly, drawing out the name. Your…friend. The human within whom I felt the presence of Mew.
“Mew?” Red repeated, and the word, much to his surprise, he was able to speak aloud. He shook his head, and Pikachu worriedly bumped their cheeks together. Red could barely feel the static shock of it through the cold. I don’t understand.
Nor I, Mewtwo confessed. But within Green I felt Mew, just how I am with you.
Bonded, you said. Linked. Like you and Mew — you and Blaine.
Mewtwo’s nostrils flared. Not like either of those. That human is lucky to be alive.
Red frowned. He didn’t seem so bad.
In this I find your judgment of character to be lacking.
But you chose me anyway.
Mewtwo exhaled. It was not my intention. But it is done, now. The mark upon your neck is proof of our connection.
Mark? Red echoed, slowly reaching below his collar to the place where Mewtwo had struck him. He pressed his fingers against the skin there, and—
his feet were planted in the snow, Pikachu on his shoulder, Mewtwo in front of him—
his feet were floating above the snow, there was a boy standing on the ground below him, a Pikachu on his shoulder—
the cold was biting, his cheeks and nose and fingers numb, the cold was a caress, as though it didn’t dare sink into his skin; he was one and two and whole and separate and he felt torn apart at his very essence and—
Red dug his fingers into his scalp and he screamed.
He didn’t realize he’d passed out until he was waking up to see the earthy brown stone of a cave over his head, a bed of fresh, crisp-smelling pine needles beneath him. Pikachu was curled up on his chest, sleeping easily right above his heart where it beat in a steady rhythm. It was slightly warmer here, where the wind couldn’t reach, but he could see a sliver of daylight indicating the cave’s entrance right around a slight bend. And Red could see Mewtwo’s deep purple tail from his position, so he pushed aside the lingering remnants of a headache, put his arms around Pikachu to hold him close against his chest, and went to see Mewtwo at the cave’s entrance.
Mewtwo shifted slightly, acknowledging Red as he approached, before turning its gaze back out to the snow-covered expanse beyond the cave. They must have moved further down the mountainside, because Red could even see a small handful of pine trees sparsely breaking up the monotonous white. It is quiet here, Mewtwo said as Red came to stand next to it. Peaceful. No one knows I am here, and I can use that space to think.
That’s why you came, Red said, a statement rather than a question because he found he knew the answer without asking. What happened to me?
It seems that mark is more than just that, Mewtwo said dryly. It is the anchor point of our connection. Touching it, so it seems, brings our minds closer together, so they overlap — merge — rather than simply brushing against each other.
We could ask Green, Red said. If he’s bonded to Mew like I am to you, then—
Mewtwo snapped his head to face Red, and its voice boomed in Red’s head: I refuse.
Red winced, and Pikachu stirred in his arms but remained asleep. Okay, Red said after a few moments. Then we’ll learn about what this means together.
He could feel Mewtwo’s dull surprise, and oddly enough Red could actually understand why — Mewtwo expected him to disagree. Red couldn’t understand, however, why Mewtwo would expect that, but he’d learned long ago not to ask too many questions (people seemed to get annoyed more often when he did, and he didn’t like to make people annoyed).
Thank you, Mewtwo said, and Red knew this was the first time it had ever said those words to anyone.