A/N: Just a little drabble after finishing Pokemon White.

You asked me if I could hear my pokemon's voices.

Your father was giving a speech and when he left only you remained, with sea-green hair and eyes to match. The cap shaded your eyes, but they couldn't shade the confusion I saw in them.

On the ferris wheel in Raimon City, you told me the truth. You were a prince...no, a king, waiting to be crowned in a world where pokemon were free. That was the only world you'd live in. You'd die if that world could never exist. You would make it exist.

In the cave full of sparks and shining, deep blue stones, one of your Plasma grunts smiled crookedly at me, her orange hair bright against her pale uniform. There was a fire deep in her eyes, smoldering down to bitter embers – jealousy. She sniggered as we withdrew her beaten pokemon from our battle.

"So you're the trainer Lord N's smitten with."

My heart stopped, and the electric wave that surged through me had nothing to do with the electric pokemon living there.

You said I was neutral. Cheren was black with ambition, Bel was white with kindness, and I fell somewhere in the middle. I was gray, pale and indecisive. I only went on the journey because Bel and Cheren wanted to. I only fought because I had to, and because my pokemon seemed eager.

The wind blew harsh and fast on the Fukiyose Runway. The airport was quiet, the sun just setting. The vegetables fields carried the scent of fresh green sustenance. Farmers gathered up the last of the fruits in their baskets, calling to each other with jokes.

You spoke to my pokemon again, my proud Shibibiru. The little eel squirmed as you knelt to look it in the eye, and I saw a smile pull at its tiny mouth soon after. It gave off a shower of sparks.

"Your pokemon are fond of you." You said.

The electricity running through my veins had nothing to do with Shibibiru's sparks of happiness.

In the bowels of the Ancient Castle, sand was in my shoes. Sand was in my eyes and mouth and hair and I was trying to get it out even as Geechisu grinned out an oily phrase.

"You've been chosen by Lord N."

My hands stop rubbing sand from my eyes. It was impossible for electricity to be down here, the ground would drink it up.

It runs through me anyway.

Your father bothered me again on a bridge, the trains running beneath us in windy bursts of metal and sound and steam. He smiled, his hair the same green as yours but with a sour, putrid tinge.

"I trained him to be a pure hearted hero. His whole life, he has strived to be a white knight."

I wanted to tell Geechisu you didn't need to strive – you were bright and pure all on your own even without his help.

I'm gray. Gray doesn't know what to do. I stayed quiet.

The castle that envelopes the Elite Four shifts like it's breathing, white gold halls and crystal clear waters. The gym leaders stall the sages for me, and Shaga shouts for me to go on ahead. It's my job to 'show you the way', he says.

The two women, one with flowing pink hair and the other with bright yellow hair, both in gossamer gowns with graceful figures, coo and smile as they heal my pokemon. Their figures are pale and willowy. Love and peace, they say. They are the goddesses of love and peace, and they raised you.

I met your parents, in a way.

They show me the room with toys, so many toys scattered and broken, worn down to the very stubs of their being. This was your room. This was your world. A teddy bear in the toybox smells exactly like you.

There's no sparks, no outlets I can see. The electricity wrapping around my heart as I hug the teddy bear had to have come from somewhere else.

Reshiram arrives in a burst of cleansing fire. The throne room's pool is evaporated. When the fire dies, you smile softly.

"...I've taken a liking to you."

Fire does not shock. It does not tingle through blood. The embers left glowing in the corners could not be the source of this wonderful feeling.

We fight. I win, but I didn't want to. I had to.

Geechisu calls you worthless. He lunges at me and my exhausted pokemon, ready to pound me with his own into submission. From behind him, I see your spring green eyes, pure, untainted eyes, widen as you shout.

"WHITE!"

When I let my pokemon out, they are mysteriously healed. Your voice rings in my ears as a soothing balm. You did it, didn't you? You sent that feeling to me and my pokemon.

I beat Geechisu because I want to, not because I had to. Cheren and Adeku, the Champion, lead him away like the criminal he is. He spits at the floor by my feet as he passes.

It's just you and I left. The throne room is in shambles from the fight between Reshiram and Zekrom – your snowy pureness and my shadowy taint.

You ask to talk.

We stroll up the long walkway, your steps calm and my own uneven, tired. You wait for me to catch up with a warm expression on your face.

"You're a hero, a true hero. I...I was fabricated from birth, but you! Your heart is truly beautiful, White."

I stop breathing.

"No. Not really."

I want to say it, but the sun streams in behind you as you stand on the edge of the ruins, the wind whistling through the shattered remains of wall. The sun bathes you in bright light. For a long moment you're quiet. You release Reshiram, the dragon pokemon looking like a giant angel in the morning sun. The electricity shocks my toes and makes its way up as your spring-green gaze makes its way up my body at the same time. Our gazes meet.

"Farewell."

You step off the edge. There's no electricity anymore, just hot, burning acid crawling up my throat as I watch you fall. I scrabble with the pokeball at my waist that contains my flying pokemon Sazandora, but Reshiram catches you on its back.

You'll soar away into the sky, and I'll stand on that ledge until the sun sets and Bel comes back to bring me home.

I take the teddy bear from your room on the way out.

It smells like pure, innocent spring.