Prologue
The day Misty Harrison had been dreading all summer had finally come. The day that preschool started, and her daughter, Fiona, would spend her first full day away from her. Fiona would be attending the Pichu Learning Center at the edge of the Pewter City line. Brock had also attended that school as a child and insisted that Fiona go as well, to give her a headstart on Kindergarten, but Misty wasn't ready for her to grow up just yet.
Misty packed up a backpack, decorated with cute baby Fire Pokemon. Charmanders. Torchics. Vulpixes. And Tepigs. Brock had tried to talk her into a backpack with Rock Pokemon, which was widely availale in Pewter City, but Fiona had insisted on Fire pokemon. She had always liked them best.
Misty didn't bother trying to get the girl to like water Pokemon.
Brock kissed his wife on the forehead, before taking an appreciative sip of his favourite Cerulean City Coffee.
"Bye Honey, I have to get to the gym," he said. "I'm scheduled for an early match up with some kid from Vermillion. Should be a pretty easy match, seeing as he's probably got an electric type."
Misty looked up at him from her kneeling position, filling the bag with crayons, coloring books and tissues.
"You're not going to see Fiona off to school with me?" She asked.
"I'm sorry, Honey, I can't," he kissed her lips softly as she stood up, abandoning the backpack against the staircase. "I'll be home tonight and Fiona can tell me all about her first day of school."
She looked up into his eyes and smiled a weak, forced smile. "This isn't easy for me."
"I know, Sweetheart," he said, using his name of affection he had always used with her. Ever since that night out on Valencia Island, when they had first admitted they had feelings for eachother. The night before he left her to stay on the island with Professor Felina Ivy for 8 long months while she traveled around The Orange Islands with Ash and that crazy guy, Tracey Sketchit, who she had to end up shooting because he was going to kill Brock.
He had been in a fit of rage, and jealousy, and if she hadn't shot him...
Well, Brock would have died that day. She didn't like to think about it.
"But hey," he said, lifting her gaze up to meet his eyes. "Fiona is still our little baby. And now she's old enough to where we can start thinking about having another."
Misty smiled up at him as he brought her in for another kiss, a sensually slow kiss that said she was in for a long, romantic night tonight. When he pulled back from the kiss, he looked at her with a look that made her knees quiver just thinking about what he was going to do to her.
Her moment of short-lived when she heard her daughter coming down the stairs entirely too fast.
"Mommy! Are we ready to go?" She asked, dressed in an all purple outfit with a Charmander on the shirt.
"We're ready," she said. "And what have I told you about running down the stairs?"
"Bye Fiona," Brock kissed the top of his daughter's head. "You be good and listen to Mommy, OK? And be good at school, too, OK?"
She nodded that she understood and Brock stood up straight, leaving through the front door. Misty slipped on her shoes and led her daughter out the same door just a few seconds later and watched Brock drive down the street towards the Pewter Gym to be there on time for his match.
She headed the opposite way, across town, passed the Pokemon Center until she saw the building on the right. The Pichu Learning Center. Where young minds can explore and grow. Fiona sat in the backseat, already pulling out her crayons and coloring.
She parked the car and got out, lifting Fiona from her carseat and leading her inside through the double doors to the main office. An older woman sat behind the counter, and she smiled at Misty as she entered the door.
"Good morning," the woman said.
"Good morning, "Misty replied, holding Fiona's hand. "We're looking for Mrs. Castillo's class."
"It's right through the doors, first room on your left," The woman pulled out a clipboard. "I just need you to sign your daughter in, and she will need to be signed out everyday. It's to keep the children safe."
She smiled, her lipstick a dark bergundy that Misty always noticed older women wore.
Misty signed Fiona in and then took her into the hallway, seeing a doorway with a hand written sign, decorated with glitter and markers that said "Mrs. Castillo."
The preschool room was much more vibrtant with color than the office had been, and all the colors had caught Fiona's eye. She looked around, taking it all in, then looked up at Misty.
"Mommy, let's go play!" She practically dragged her into the room, and Misty had discovered she wasn't the only parent in there that day. It made her feel a little better, knowing that perhaps she wasn't the only one having a hardtime letting go.
A young woman with light brown skin, dark hair and dark eyes smiles at Misty.
"Hi, I'm Mrs. Castillo." She offered her hand and Misty took it.
"Hi, I'm Mrs. Harrison. This is my daughter Fiona," she said. "Say Hi, Fiona."
"Hi," The little girl said shyly, suddenly clinging tightly to her mother, and looking up at the strange woman. She had always been somewhat shy around strangers, but Misty hoped she wouldn't cry the moment she left.
"You can go and play if you like," Mrs. Castillo told Fiona, and the little girl looked hesitantly at the other kids. Some were at tables, scribbling with markers, and some were building with legos, while others watched a video with some puppets singing a song.
"Mommy, will you come with me?" She asked, looking up at her mother with sad, puppy-dog eyes. The kind of eyes she always used when she really wanted something. Like when she wanted the Fire Pokemon bag instead of the Rock Pokemon one.
"Is it OK if I stay for a little bit?" Misty questioned, and Mrs. Castillo nodded her head.
"Of course. The first day can be hard on everyone, so we allow a few moments just to get used to things," she said, and Misty followed Fiona further into the classroom. The other children made no immediate move to include her in whatever they were doing. Fiona pulled out a plastic container from one of the cubby holes and discovered flash cards with pictures and words underneath them.
"So what do you think, Fiona?" Misty asked, kneeling down, not quite wanting to sit. She didn't want Fiona to get used to the idea of her staying here all day.
"It's fun," she said, flatly. Taking out a picture of a cartoon car, and then putting it back.
"Sweety, I have to go, OK?" She smiled at her, kissing her forehead and standing up.
"What?" Fiona looked up, her bottom lip started to quiver and Misty shook her head.
"No, Fiona, please don't cry. I won't be gone that long," MIsty tried to say, but it was too late. Tears were already streaming down her face, the flashcards forgotten in the floor and she clung tight to Misty's legs, so tight that she thought she might lose circulation.
Mrs. Castillo noticed and smiled, noticing the look of pure anxiety on Misty's face.
"Oh, this is perfectly normal," she said, offering Fiona a stuffed Charmander doll. "A lot of kids do this on the first and sometimes even the second day of preschool. But it's better to get it out now instead of the first day of kindergarten. They get used to being separated from their parents."
Misty felt a lump rise in her throat, but she wouldn't dare cry here. Not in front of Fiona. Not in front of everyone else. She got Fiona over to a desk, along with the stuffed Charmander and sat her down, kneeling beside her.
"Look, Fiona, why don't you color me a pretty picture?" She asked, and the four year old little girl picked up her pack of crayons and started to color, wiping her tear-stained face with her sleeve. The room was filled with parents right now, but she knew that they would all have to leave soon.
As Fiona colored, Misty's eyes fell on a little girl at a desk by herself. She concentrated on a picture she was coloring and she didn't have any parents with her. She seemed to be adjusted well, but she couldn't help but notice her lack of friends. She hoped Fiona would make friends by the end of the day.
Misty stood up again, noticing that the clasroom was quickly emptying of adults, and she knew she had to be gone very soon.
"I have to go, Sweety," she said, and Fiona looked as if she was about to cry again. "I'll be back really soon. When the little hand is on the 3, I'll be back to get you."
Fiona looked up at the clock. It was only on the 10 right now and she didn't know when it would reach the three, but her mother was already leaving through the door, and she didn't understand why she was left here, with all of these other kids. They weren't like the kids in her neighborhood, who she had invited to play in the pool this summer. They seemed to ignore her, and she just kept to herself.
And she didn't know who this Mrs. Castillo was. All she knew was that it wasn't her mother.
