Authors Note: A drabble sort of thing I wrote when I was angry... Oneshot, for now i guess
Disclaimer: uh no
Seemingly destructive and suffocating, dark clouds continued to loom and suppress the colour of the sky. They had been at it all day. Harsh gales of wind had been battering against the small town, carrying branches of trees and astray leaves as it went. No rain though. Pallet town had never looked more miserable. A boy of 16 sits on the roof of his own residence, his eyes uncharacteristically cold and distant. He looks out into the rest of pallet, wondering why he came back in the first place. He doesn't turn when he hears footsteps; a hand is placed on his shoulder.
"No one wanted it to be like this" his oldest friend says sadly. The boy looks at Brocks vest, tracing the patterns of the stitching with his jet black eyes. He lightly smacks the hand of his shoulder and turns back around, standing up. His mother watches from the ground, clutching her hands to her chest in a tight ball, worry etched onto her face.
The raven haired boy doesn't speak. He clenches his fits and whistles. For a moment, silence, a second later, their hearing was consumed with the uneven battering of Pidgeot's wings.
He jumps off the roof and the bird catches him easily on its back. Pidgeot stops for a moment in front of Brock.
"I'm going to see Misty. Dunno when I'll be back"
Ash doesn't glance back at his home town, but instead looks forward, gripping onto the warm feathers on the Pokémon's back.
Pidgeot takes off into the distance; the boy on his back wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, wondering when he became so weak.
His friend and mother watch as he takes off. Delia wonders when he became so reckless and impulsive. Brock wonders when he became so independent and alone.
Small, light drops of rain hit both noses of the two, warning them that a storm would be arriving shortly. They both hurry inside, a second before a downpour hits.
Even the sky was crying.