Fuchsia City was draped in mist, as if the marsh itself had risen to greet them.
There was no flashing neon, no towering billboards—just quiet woodwork buildings, bamboo fences, and the distant croak of frogs echoing over water. Skylar liked it.
It felt like a place meant for serious trainers.
For people ready to evolve.
He and Misty moved through the outer gardens near the city center, their path winding through shaded trees and trimmed grass. The Gym would come soon—his sixth badge was in reach.
But just as they turned the final bend—
Misty stopped.
She smiled.
"Well, that's a surprise."
Skylar looked up.
A figure sat quietly on a large flat stone near a koi pond, legs crossed, red cap lowered over his eyes, jacket zipped tight despite the heat.
He wasn't asleep.
He was still.
And calm.
The kind of calm that came from knowing your strength.
The kind of calm Skylar had learned to recognize.
The boy opened his eyes and stood up slowly.
Skylar didn't need a name.
He already knew.
"Red."
Red gave a short nod.
"Misty," he said.
Red's eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of Skylar. "You were always at the top."
Flashback: Two years ago – Oak's Elite Summer Camp
Red stood alone near the edge of the training field, arms crossed, watching the match unfold.
Everyone was.
In the middle of the battlefield, Skylar's Ralts danced between attacks—its body glowing with psychic light as it parried each of Cynthia's Gible's explosive charges.
It was no ordinary spar.
They were fighting for the top rank of the camp—the unofficial crown.
Skylar moved with surgical focus. Cynthia, all instinct and drive.
Red never forgot the energy that surrounded them.
While others flinched, they thrived.
He had battled well that summer—but not like them.
Not yet.
He made a promise that day.
One day, I'll challenge them both. And win.
Back in the present, Red stepped forward and looked Skylar in the eye.
"You have five badges now?"
Skylar nodded. "And headed for six."
Red's voice was low and even. "Then we're even."
Misty smirked. "Looks like fate lined things up again."
Red held a Poké Ball in his palm.
"Battle me."
Skylar didn't hesitate.
"Let's go."
They moved to a League-sanctioned training field near the edge of the marsh. The fog drifted low over the grass. Misty took her place between them.
"Three Pokémon. No substitutions."
The two trainers nodded.
She raised her arm.
"Begin!"
Red led with Espeon—graceful, alert, tail twitching.
Skylar wasted no time.
Charizard roared onto the field in a flash of red light, his dark wings slicing through the morning air.
Espeon launched a Psybeam, twisting with force.
Skylar didn't flinch. "Take to the air. Flamethrower."
Charizard spun up, dodging mid-beam, and blasted a stream of fire downward. Espeon leapt back, setting a Light Screen just in time—but Charizard followed it.
Another burst of flame shattered the screen.
A Dragon Claw to the side sent Espeon tumbling, and Misty raised her hand.
"Espeon is unable to battle!"
Red recalled silently and sent out Sneasel, who appeared like a shadow striking the grass.
Fast.
Precise.
Skylar returned Charizard and pulled his next Poké Ball.
"Your turn, Scyther."
The bug-type burst forward, wings buzzing, blades gleaming.
What followed was a high-speed dance of dodges, feints, and slashes.
Sneasel's Ice Shard met with Scyther's X-Scissor midair—each hit clean, each dodge barely timed.
But Skylar knew how to read tempo.
He'd trained with Cynthia. He'd fought wild threats and corrupted Pokémon.
"Feint—Double Team—then close."
Scyther split into afterimages.
Sneasel struck the wrong one.
And Scyther's blade crashed into its back.
"Sneasel is unable to battle!"
Red's final Pokémon stood ready before the light faded:
Pikachu.
It stood tall, tail flicking like a conductor's baton.
Misty folded her arms and grinned.
"Now it gets real."
Pikachu opened with Thunder Wave, forcing Scyther to stall for a second too long.
Then came Quick Attack, followed by Thunderbolt—a perfect combo that sent Scyther flying.
Skylar returned him calmly.
He smiled, but there was steel in his voice.
"Then it's time."
His final Poké Ball opened.
Arcanine landed in a burst of heat, growling low.
"Extreme Speed!"
The fire-type blurred into motion, crashing into Pikachu mid-charge.
The rodent recovered fast—but not fast enough to dodge a follow-up Flare Blitz.
The battlefield exploded in flame.
When the smoke cleared, both Pokémon stood—
Then Pikachu dropped to one knee.
And collapsed.
"Pikachu is unable to battle. Skylar wins!"
The small crowd that had gathered applauded.
But Skylar barely noticed.
His eyes were still locked with Red's.
The two boys stepped forward and met halfway.
No words for a moment.
Then Red extended his hand.
"You've surpassed what I saw back then."
Skylar took it.
"I'm not done."
Red nodded once.
"Neither am I."
Misty stepped up beside them. "So… we good now?"
Red gave her a small smile. "For now."
Skylar turned toward the Gym in the distance.
"Three more badge. Then the League."
Red followed his gaze.
"I'll see you there."
And with that—
The two parted.
Not as strangers.
But as rivals.