Light.
Bright, white light.

Kotone opened her eyes.

Everything is.. white.

She sat up in the bed she was lying in and looked around. A white room, with a white bed, with white sheets, a white pillow.

It looks like a hospital room..

Suddenly she noticed the hospital machines. She looked at her arm, where a needle was sticked in. An infusion. There was also a machine that was keeping track of the pace of her heart.

"I'm glad to see you're awake."
A nurse with pink hair came walking in. Kotone looked in stupor and confusion at her.

"I'm nurse Joy, you had an accident, you're in a hospital right now," Nurse Joy said, answering all the questions almost every average person would have after waking up in a hospital. Kotone's eyes grew wide.

An accident?

Suddenly, she felt an immense pain at the back of her head. She grabbed her head, caressing the back of it. Her eyes grew wide again as she felt soft cotton wrapped around it.

A bandage?

"Kotone!" A redhead dashed into the room, who looked about her age. His silver eyes desperately looked into her hazel eyes. Before she knew it, the redhead had reached her bed an embraced her into a tight hug.

"Kotone! Kotone! Kotone.." the man sounded like he was about to cry.
Stunned, Kotone looked at the redhead, of whom she could only see the back of his head.

"Excuse me, but, who are you?"

Silver had never minded being alone. 'Alone' was for him the name of an old friend, that welcomed him and embraced him. Being alone made him feel at ease and brought peace to his mind.

But sometimes, when sitting near a campfire, somewhere in a forest in the middle of nowhere, after his pokemon had fallen asleep, a single tear would trickle down his cheek.

And his one and only fear would commence trying to smother him.

Sure, when being alone, there was no one to annoy him, or insult him, or to betray and leave him. And he had his pokemon of course, but they were just his friends, his partners, and even though he had a hard time expressing it, they were like family to him.

He was often annoyed by all the happy couples that seemed to surround him every day, laughing and giggling and hugging and kissing. They all seemed so happy.

There was no one for him. There was no one that knew him. There was no one who knew the pain he felt, for there was no one that came close to him.

No one was brave enough to.

No one was interested in what he thought. There was no one whose hand would reach out to him, and touch his soul. All because of the invisible wall he had built around himself. And no one knew that he just couldn't break it down by himself.

There was no one of who he knew: 'I know what you're thinking and you know what I'm thinking. We are one and the same, yet two different beings.'

It was a bit of a hard feeling to explain. He had experienced it often with his Sneasel when fighting, knowing exactly what to do next just by looking each other in the eye for a split second, making them able to perform astonishing and breathtaking combinations to escape.

But that was not the same as with a human. If he could have that feeling when fighting together with Sneasel, he should be able to also experience that feeling with a human, right? And not just when fighting, but also when talking, or looking at each other, or even just by being near each other.

Right?

He wondered if it was not possible. Maybe it was just when working together in a battle with his pokemon. Maybe it was just his imagination, desperately trying to keep him from finding out life is worthless. Would there really be someone for him?

Maybe there was no one.

Maybe Arceus hated him so much that he decided that making him the son of that despicable man called Giovani was not enough.

Maybe he decided that he should also be doomed to be the only person that had no red string attached to his little finger, or ankle, or whatever people said it was attached to, that was connected with another person, meaning they were destined lovers.

Or perhaps he had decided to give him one, but not to bind it to another person.

They said that there existed as much men as women. Maybe he was the extra, maybe he would just dwell on this cold world his entire life, all alone.

Everyone would find happiness, except for him.

Would there really be anyone who would say to him 'Please don't leave me', 'I need you', 'I love you'?

If he would die, would there be anyone who wouldn't be able to go on? Who would rather die than live without him, and the other way around?

This feeling when thinking about it, was loneliness.

A paralyzing fear, mixed with the feeling of powerlessness, frustration, despair,  the feeling of falling into a bottomless pit.

Another tear would then follow.

Was there really nobody in this world, painted in the color of the sky and ice, suiting its nature? This world of bright and blinding merciless cold blue?

Would he drown in that agonizing blue, frozen by his fears, pulled down by his despair and hopelessness?

Would he always just be alone?