a/n: yes I call Blue Oak by his English name, because I'm not Japanese so yeah../

miles away (from home)

—

When he was a kid, Blue used to know exactly what home meant.

Lazy summer days lying under the shade of the cypress trees in Pallet Town, watching the fat white clouds and the Pidgey soaring through the wide blue expanse. It meant playing games with Red throughout the afternoons that seemed to never end. If Blue felt brave enough, sometimes he would even go searching through tall grass for a wild Pokémon, despite his grandfather's warnings; on lucky days he could spot a Rattata or Caterpie scampering around in search of a meal, and Red would finally come out from hiding behind a tree to watch the creatures in curious fascination.

They played until the sun disappeared behind the distant mountains, the sky slowly melting into the deep indigo hue of blueberries, and their moms yelled at them to come in for dinner.

Home was the sound of boots crunching through falling autumn leaves of brown, gold, orange shades, the ambrosial smell of fresh-baked pumpkin pie wafting through the kitchen window of Red's house. Home was the soft pitter-patter of raindrops falling on the roof above, sometimes accompanied by the low growling thunder and blinding white flash of lightning. Red and Blue would hide under the bed with the younger boy trembling and Blue exasperatedly reassuring him that it would be okay, for the fourth time that night. But he put a comforting arm around Red anyway, and held him close until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer and the even rhythm of Red's soft snoring filled the room.

It was the wonderful sensation of waking up (after a strikingly vivid dream of being an acclaimed Pokémon master, the champion of Kanto), and seeing a winter wonderland outside his window. Blue would leap into his warmest jacket, pull on a hat and mittens and a scarf, and gobble down a quick breakfast before opening the front door to a whole new sanguine world, one where falling white flurries obscured his range of vision. He'd trudge through the thick snow to Red's house and pound on the door, calling hurry up, Red, come out and play! Home was the refreshing taste of snowflakes falling on his tongue, as Blue and Red laughed as they rolled around in the snow, hurled snowballs at each other, tried to see who could catch the most snowflakes.

And last of all, home meant nicer weather coming in as the ice melted, superseded by the warmer spring breezes. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of cherry blossom petals drifted down from the trees, and Blue and Red would play around in them as Daisy planted new tulips and hyacinths in their backyard garden. Butterfree and Pidgeotto fluttered through the skies once more, returned from their migration to the warmer Hoenn climate. Spring brought a feeling of new life after the winter.

This, Blue knew with absolute certainty as he chased Red through the flowers and Daisy scolded them lightly from inside the kitchen, was home.

.

A lot has changed since his childhood, Blue reflects as he steps into Red's empty house, and nostalgia slaps him in the face—not for the first time—after his best friend left for the distant peaks of Mt. Silver. The floorboards creak under his feet as he enters, trailed by his faithful partner Eevee. He feels empty, like a part of him is gone—and that's not far from the truth, Blue realizes, because the biggest part of home used to be Red.

Now, to him, home is the stale scent of a house that hasn't been occupied in months, of the bittersweet memories plaguing him when he looks at the pictures of Red and his mother hanging on the wall. Home means the echoing of his footsteps throughout the too quiet house, and the unused bed and empty sight that greets him when he makes his way upstairs and pushes open the door to Red's bedroom. Home means—

All of a sudden, Blue smashes his fist down on Red's dusty old desk and lets out a scream of frustration. Startled and now alert, Eevee turns her amber eyes upon her Trainer in distress, but Blue is too angry to reassure her that he's all right, because he's not, and never will be until Red returns from that stupid mountain. Burying his head in his hands, he fights back the tears, but they come anyway, streaming down his cheeks and splashing onto the desk.

"Darnit, Red, just come home!"

Of course, the empty house does not answer his cries.