Um, yeah. My first real shot at writing in what, like, four years? Yeeeeah.

Rivals always sort of just find you. Either it's all very coincidental, or something more sinister. And since I'm a total slut for twisted shit, I'm buying into the whole 'rivals stalk you' concept.

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Predatory. Tongue lopsided, peeking out the corner of his mouth. Dark eyes narrowed, he caught sight of her exiting the Pokecenter. Lurking had it's benefits. He was so close, he could almost smell her. Nostrils flared. For a fleeting moment, he thought he could.

She didn't see him, of course. He wouldn't allow it. Slipping her Pokegear out of the pretty pink bag resting at her hip, she opened it carelessly and dialed a number.

Pulse. Thump. Thump. He could hear it, but she couldn't. Was it stalking? Was that what he was doing? He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Back pressed against the cold brick exterior, he peeked around the corner with those eyes. Eyes were red - she commented on them once. Were they contacts, she'd asked. He only smirked, taunting her with a smile.

Obsessed. He was sure he had feelings, somewhere. Mixed up and confused; hatred, love, pain, pleasure, he felt them all and yet simultaneously felt none. His expression didn't change. It never did.

She lingered outside of the Pokecenter, her face determined and chatter frivolous. She cycled through two other phone numbers before finally dialing her mother. Finger twisted idly around a lock of blue hair, and he wondered if it was dyed that way.

Rational. Of course it was. He inched closer, making sure he was out of sight. He felt a chill, and ignored it. Accompanying sick thoughts, however, would not be ignored.

Kris on her knees, Kris begging - but not for him, Kris spread-eagle on a bed, in a car, in the forest, Red and Kris, Lance and Kris, Jasmine and Kris...

Thump. Thump. He could hear it again - a rhythmic reminder of his obsession. He couldn't get her out of his head.

Champions didn't involve themselves with the bastard children of Team Rocket, he chastised himself. It wasn't love - it was something else, and he could feel it in both heads.

Irrational. Finished with her conversation, she returned her Pokegear to her bag. Elegant and yet awkward, a paradox in itself. Puberty had not been kind to her. Kris crossed the street. It was an otherwise ordinary event, but Silver stood transfixed. Did he even need a reason? He couldn't think of one. Rivalry had all but dissolved when she became the champion. What was his motivation now? Answers always escaped him.

Red-head emerged from the shadow of the building, basking at last in daylight. Eyes narrowed again, it was a wonder he could even see. Scowling. Always scowling.

Inhale. With one deep breath, he continued to stalk his prey. The endless cat-and-mouse game.