A/N: Written for the Diversity Writing Challenge, Section B prompt #039 – write about people going their separate ways.

different paths, though they do diverge
can come together on soft lonely nights

Every friend he'd met on his journey eventually had to say goodbye. Except Pikachu. The pair of them were still together after six long years…and it looks like they'll be together forever.

And it wasn't like all those other friends of his had been lost. Their paths had just…branched out. Still connected by the bonds they'd formed through their journeys.

But still, it's Ash and Pikachu walking off towards the sunset. And they can look at that sunset and smile, and walk on to new adventures and new friends.

And on quiet nights like this one when they're on their own, they can think of all their old friends as well.

Like when a horde of Beautifly fly passed the bright face of the moon, they can remember May's Beautifly, and then May herself: the girl who'd once been so afraid and uncomfortable with Pokemon but was now making her claim to fame as a Top Coordinator. And with memories of May naturally came her little brother, Max, always excited about Pokemon, always so supportive of his sister and his friends but, now, finally old enough to walk the path he'd dreamed so fiercely about.

Or like when they passed a lake with a Gyarados in the centre, its serpentine body straight and bathed under the moonlight, eyes closed as though in some kind of prayer. He could remember Misty and her Gyarados then – Misty, the girl who'd become his first human travelling companion and friend. She was back at the Cerulean Gym now, last he'd spoke with her. A great water trainer like she'd always wanted to be, and always getting better.

Ash wishes he had a camera to document that moment to send to her; he was sure Misty would love it. And so would Tracey, the Pokemon watcher who loved to sketch Pokemon in any environment, to learn everything there was to learn about them. The chance to see a Gyarados like that had to be rare. Ash and Pikachu certainly hadn't had the chance before.

But he didn't have a camera, so he moved on, Pikachu on his shoulder. They passed more interesting things, the things they could pay attention to because it was a quiet, peaceful night, and they could take in more, think about more things. Like how, at the slightest pang of hunger, Ash wondered whether Brock or Cilan were the better cook, and decided he couldn't possibly decide between the two of them.

He wondered how Brock's studying was going. With Brock so busy at medical school and his training with Nurse Joy, Ash didn't get many opportunities to speak with him. Cilan was easier to catch, still at his family restaurant doubling as a gym leader and Connoisseur. They'd talked last week, and Cilan claimed to be doing better than ever.

He probably was. Cilan was the sort of person who could find a learning experience in everything. But they were all like that, weren't they? That's why they could travel or settle down, drift away from each other…and all of them would just continue getting stronger.

The soft night wind blew past them, not enough to chill them but enough to ruffle Ash's clothes and Pikachu's fur. But he could hear Dawn complaining about the skirt she wore not being enough of a guard against that…and it wouldn't be. Not that Ash would know. He wasn't a shorts person, and the three times he'd worn a dress were for very…specific purposes. And during nice, sunny days at that. But Dawn did often get chilled by the night wind, though she'd run ahead to warm herself, always full of energy. Sometimes she'd take the time to practise and warm herself even more, with her Pokemon's beautiful moves putting on a midnight show for all of them. She was still putting on such shows, even more beautiful and majestic. And one day she'd get her well deserved prize, he was sure. That ribbon cup she was working so hard towards.

The trees leaned towards the roads and Pikachu stood on Ash's head, reaching for a berry. If it were Iris, she'd know whether it was ready to be picked or not, and what sort of berry it was, but Ash hadn't managed to learn all those survival skills from her. Iris was still one of a kind – and still out there, travelling, and trying to become a Dragon master. Last he'd heard from her, she'd caught herself an Altaria. An impressive catch, that. He'd love to see that some time soon. He might get a chance too. Who knew? Goodbye was never the end. He'd seen all his travelling friends again. And they always kept in touch too.

The Beautifly vanished from the sky. The lake was out of sight. The trees vanished as well, into the past. Ahead was a road growing slowly clearer, and the Pokemon Centre.

And it was just him and Pikachu. 'Race you?' Ash suggested.

Pikachu jumped down from his shoulder and took off, one step ahead…but on the path they were walking, together.