Summary: To stand at the top is hard work and Ash is slowly beginning to feel the pressures of being a Pokemon Master take its toll on him as his losing streak continues. Faced with an uncertain future, Ash turns to Misty to give him the encouragement he needs to keep going despite his mounting self-doubt.
Do Champions Dream of Electric Mice?
by Atheon
Ever since he encountered his first Pokemon in the outskirts of Pallet Town all those years ago – a lost Ratata that he and Gary had stalked all afternoon as four year olds – Ash knew that he wanted to be a Pokemon Master. When he set off on his journey five years later, that was the one goal he had in mind: to be the very best like no one ever was.
This wasn't a particularly uncommon dream to have for his generation - in fact it was to be expected. After all, it was decades before he was born that the Ministry of Education had decided to implement a curriculum which combined remote schooling of regular academic disciplines with journeys to give youths first-hand experience dealing with Pokemon.
Of course, turning school into a primarily online institution and sending children to scour the world alone sounded insane and ridiculously dangerous on paper – though Ash would later learn that the regions approved for journeying were the most highly policed and secure in the world despite outliers like Team Rocket.
In practice, though, it was necessary; the human world was becoming increasingly intertwined with the Pokemon world and the best way to prepare future generations was to encourage them to gain first hand experience. As a side effect, it was only natural that most children would then grow up seeking careers involving Pokemon. And no single career was more lucrative than that of a world-class trainer – a Pokemon Master.
Who could blame them? The Pokemon League was by far the most illustrious and celebrated branch of government and what child didn't get their famous Gotta Catch Them All anthem stuck in their head at least once in their lives. The League handled nearly everything Pokemon-related, from exploring undiscovered regions to spearheading military and humanitarian efforts – the world was not nearly as kind outside the regions Ash traveled to as a child – and it was nearly every kid's dream to someday be a part of the pantheon of Pokemon Masters that stood at the League's helm.
Certainly, Ash was no exception and through the years, as he met new companions, fought new rivals and discovered new heights as a trainer, he only became more encouraged to pursue his dream, even as most of his peers slowly began to pursue more realistic life paths.
His insane luck at meeting top tier trainers like Cynthia combined with his tendency to stumble upon legendary Pokemon only served to solidify the only thing he was sure of since he was a young boy: he wished to become a Pokemon Master. Looking back, maybe he should have been more specific with his wish.
Nowadays, just as so many gym leaders and rivals had predicted throughout his formative years, Ash had indeed officially become a Pokemon Master. The principal article being 'a'.
See, most of the people who had expected him to eventually rise to the top of the Pokemon world weren't wrong, he really had surmounted insurmountable odds and assailed unassailable challenges to become a master at the relatively young age of 24. However, he was far from becoming the very best like no one ever was. To be precise, he was currently the 44th best if his current ranking was to be believed and even then, he was two years removed from his peak position . . . at rank 39.
It was pretentious, Ash knew, to complain about only being the 44th best trainer in the world, but he couldn't help it. Ash Ketchum was never one to stand still, no, he was the type of person to seek adventure - to seek progress. And that in itself was the root of the problem: he had been at a standstill for nearly three years now, the brutal difficulty of the Master League had continuously kept him from moving forward and seemed to take every chance to push him down.
It didn't help that most of his friends were making steady progress in their respective careers. Heck, just a month ago, he found himself in the front row of the Academy of Innovation as Clemont had received yet another award for his latest project: a ray gun that accelerated the decomposition of plastics into the environment. As one of his best friends, Ash had been asked to give a statement for Vulpix News.
He had, of course, showered Clemont with praise and laughed at how proud he was of his friend's achievements - which wasn't a lie. Of course, Misty had accused him of using a dictionary to find the biggest words possible for his statement. Ash found this to be ridiculous; he used a thesaurus and not a dictionary.
Still, it would be a lie for him to claim that he had nothing but congratulatory feelings and pride for Clemont – and many of his other friends – who were each slowly making their marks on the world. In truth, Ash felt like he was being left behind and, though he would never admit it to anyone, a tiny part of him was nervous that he had already reached the apex of his career and rank 39 was the farthest he would ever reach.
"Something the matter, Ashy-boy?" a familiar voice asked. Ash smiled at the old nickname, one that was more a token of endearment rather than a malicious, if juvenile, attack at this point.
"Hey Gary," Ash greeted as the spiky haired professor strolled to a spot beside Ash on the railings overlooking the arena floor. "No, nothing's the matter. Just feeling a little melancholic I guess," Ash responded, taking the opportunity to use one of the new words the thesaurus had taught him.
Gary raised an eyebrow – "Huh, really? I didn't know you and Argenta were that close; I figured you were just feeling blue for your coming match so I came up here to cheer you up."
"What? Oh, right . . . Argenta's retirement . . . yeah, that's pretty sad too I guess." Ash replied awkwardly as he recalled the reason why this tournament was being held at all. Gary, for his part, did little more than cock his head at Ash's answer.
At this, Ash coughed and decided to redirect their conversation. "Ahem, but yeah, I was just deep in thought about who my opponent will be."
If Gary noticed his lie, he didn't show it and instead turned to look at the giant screen which displayed the the names of all the participants who had yet to have a match. In honor of the psychic master's retirement, the League had allowed Argenta to decide the theme of the tournament and she had chosen to make it so that the no one, not even the competitors themselves, knew who they were facing in the first round until the match itself.
"Hmm, well, I think you have a pretty favorable slate of opponents to choose from. Most of the big names already had their matches so as long as you don't get matched against Steven or Palmer, you should have a decent chance to win." Gary commented, though Ash had already previously came up with a similar analysis a few minutes earlier.
"And if you win, then you'll be matched against Lucas in the second round. It'll be a good chance to make a jump in the rankings if you can beat him." Gary added encouragingly as if he knew what Ash was really thinking about.
Ash just smiled and provided a fierce - and not completely fake - grunt in response. Gary was right of course, Lucas, a Sinnoh native who was childhood friends with Dawn and Barry, was currently the highest ranking trainer from Ash's generation at rank 30. Beating him would translate into a significant rise in the rankings, though Lucas was on a bit of a winning streak himself and looked to be at his best today from what Ash saw in his first round match against Trip.
That said, there were other reasons to do well today beyond simply climbing the rankings. The tournament they were currently partaking in included 64 of the roughly 150 trainers who held the rank of Pokemon Master with all the usual staples like Elite Four members and Champions participating. The unspoken goal of the tournament was to select a new Frontier Brain to head the Battle Hall in Argenta's place.
Ash didn't particularly want to become a Frontier Head, it was a stressful position and running one of the facilities took an extraordinary amount of time. But even Ash had to admit that holding the status of Frontier Head carried a certain prestige that was normally reserved for Elite Four members. This wasn't surprising considering most Frontier Brains were well within the top twenty trainers and their de facto leader, Palmer, was a Champion-class trainer himself.
Ash himself had taken the Battle Frontier challenge prior to entering the Master League. It was kind of like a rite of passage for trainers to try - and fail in most cases - to surmount the Frontier before becoming officially recognized as a Pokemon Master. He was certainly no exception, though he was admittedly surprised at the ruthlessness of the true Battle Frontier; it was a completely different beast than the junior-level Battle Frontier he participated in as a child.
"Rapidash is unable to battle, the winner is Dragonite! Flint is out of usable Pokemon, the winner of the match is Lance!"
Ash snapped back to reality just in time to join the chorus of applause at Lance's victory. The outcome in itself wasn't surprising, Lance was the third ranked trainer in the world and the reigning Indigo League Champion after all, but a battle between two of the top twenty was always a spectacle worth watching. Silently, Ash cursed at himself for not paying more attention.
"Oh, looks like you're up." Gary said nonchalantly without taking his eyes off the giant monitor hanging from the roof. Before Ash had the chance to question him, the announcer continued.
"The next match will be between Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town versus Rosa White of Aspertia City. Please report to the arena floor in five minutes."
Ash took in a deep breath. 'Showtime,' he thought. Gary grasped his shoulder tightly, but said nothing else before giving him a nod which Ash returned as he began his trek down to the arena.
He fiddled with his trainer belt and took out three pokeballs - Swellow, Charizard and Infernape - he had quickly learned that devoting anything but your best was suicide in the Master League. Official tournaments required you to register participating Pokemon beforehand and switches couldn't be made except in cases of injury or illness.
This was primarily to ensure that someone doesn't purposely create specialized teams against their opponents. Personally, Ash felt the registration was more of a formality than anything else; there wasn't a single master-level trainer who would be beat solely due to type advantages.
And given that the first round match-up of this particular tournament was only unveiled at the last minute, registering your team beforehand seemed to have even less purpose. Still, Ash found himself making guesses about Rosa's team.
He couldn't help it - he was a pro and three years in the Master League had taught him to instinctively formulate strategies at every opportunity. Of course, the types of tactics he used now differed greatly from the ones in his youth. No longer were the days of sending Swellow into lightning and coating it in electric armor.
No, as he grew older and increasingly serious about pursuing a career as a Pokemon Master, Ash had quickly learned to embrace professional strategies and training methods. He now meticulously kept track of his Pokemon's effort values and learned to be frugal with their move sets.
His next opponent, Rosa, was a weather specialist, having a both rain-based and a sandstorm-based team at her disposal. From what Ash had seen of her in past tournaments, he suspected that she was far more proficient with her sandstorm team and would likely have chosen to register that team for today.
"Good luck out there!" a voice broke into his thoughts. Ash frowned – he was spacing out way too much today.
However, he quickly put on a smile as he turned to face his greeter, Barry, who was leaning against the platinum walls of the hallway which led to the main stage. The blonde trainer wore his trademark smile, but was noticeably tapping his foot rapidly on the ground. 'Impatient as usual' Ash mused, though he wasn't really one to talk.
"Yeah, break a leg!" an enthusiastic Korrina added from slightly farther up the hallway. The former Shalour City gym leader had decided to become a fighting-type master not long after meeting Ash; apparently he had inspired her to pursue her own dreams. She had even managed to beat Ash in entering the Master League and now sat at rank 48.
"Thanks you guys." Ash returned. He bumped firsts with Barry and exchanged high fives with Korrina before continuing towards the entrance of the arena.
Quickening his stride, Ash began to feel a familiar sense of excitement creep into him. Really, how could he start to lose faith in himself when even his rivals still believed in him?
"I really shouldn't doubt myself" he whispered quietly to himself. It wasn't a lie – he said shouldn't instead of don't after all.
He nodded to the League official guarding the door, quickly holding up his trainer card to the scanner before entering the arena.
"Now, entering from the right, currently ranked 44, its the little engine that could, the Pallet Phoenix, Ash Ketchum!" the announcer shouted at the top of his lungs, much to the roaring applause of the audience. Ash couldn't help but smile as he felt the energy of the crowd begin to infect him.
'The Pallet Phoenix', his epithet, was a simple pun based on the fact that phoenixes rose from ash. It was needlessly grand; it was a shameless exaggeration; it made no real sense and the audience loved it. And if he was being honest, so did Ash.
"And now, please turn your attention to the left. Currently ranked 42, its the girl who put the beauty in beating, the Rose of Fatality, Rosa White!"
Ash turned to the bun-sporting pig-tailed girl as she strode excitedly to her side of the designated battlefield, a simple metallic platform was the random selection for the first round. Rosa turned and exchanged a small smile with a boy who watched from the railings in the second level, close to the spot Ash had previously been observing the battles from.
Following her gaze, it wasn't hard for Ash to recognize the visor-wearing boy. The current rank 32, Nate was the second highest-ranking trainer of Ash's generation and, if the tabloids were to be believed, Rosa's boyfriend.
Part of the audience similarly realized who Rosa had locked eyes with and began a round of scandalous noises, much to Rosa's embarrassment. To his credit, Ash offered her an apologetic smile – after all, he had a sizable following who constantly speculated about his private life himself.
Of course, much to Brock's disappointment, Ash's primary fan base seemed to be made up of children and young adolescents rather than lingerie models as Brock had imagined. Ash didn't mind, he actually felt quite dignified at the fact that he was a role model for so many young trainers just as others had been for him all those years ago.
"We will now commence the match. The format of the first round is three-on-three. When your opponent no longer has any Pokemon able to battle or if he/she surrenders, then you will be declared the winner. Ash! Rosa! Ready! Battle start!"
"Mach Punch!" Ash declared, slashing his arm through the air. In response, Infernape's fist began to glow with power before the fire Pokemon moved with blistering speed towards the opposing Lucario.
Infernape reappeared just inches away from Lucario's position, attacking at its supposed blind spot, though Ash knew that the aura Pokemon had a supernatural sense of its surroundings and was near impossible to catch off guard at the master level.
"Dodge", the command was spoken swiftly and decisively. And sure enough, Lucario who had already began moving had altered its position just enough to avoid the sound-barrier breaking fist of Infernape.
"Tch", Ash said, almost in unison with Infernape's own grunt of annoyance. Around them the sandstorm raged, making it harder than usual to land accurate attacks and allowing the steel-type Lucario to easily evade Infernape's flurry of attacks.
As Ash had predicted, Rosa had indeed gone with her sandstorm team. The bad news was that Ash's chosen team contained two fire types and a flying-type, which meant that if the match dragged on for too long, the ongoing sandstorm would ensure Rosa a win by attrition.
Ash gritted his teeth. Infernape had already used a significant amount of energy fighting off Rosa's previous Pokemon and his special ability, Blaze, had been activated all throughout its fight with Lucario. Unfortunately, they had failed to land a clean hit thus far and Ash still wasn't sure which move set Rosa had equipped Lucario with.
Infernape's nostrils flared with a stream of smoke and Ash noted that the constant flame burning upon his head was steadily growing weaker. It was now or never.
"Alright, Infernape. Give it everything you've got - Mach Punch and Fire Blast at point blank range!"
Needless to say, this would be Infernape's final move before literally running out of steam. Luckily, the Mach Punch-Fire Blast combo was Ash's ace in the hole, a two-step maneuver that had yet to fail to finish off an opponent provided a clean hit.
As with all matches that came down to a last-ditch attack, Ash felt his heart beat out of his chest as time slowed to a crawl. 'That's relativity for you', Ash thought. 'Heh, Misty would probably lecture me about how relativity actually works if she heard that.'
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucario take a defensive stance as it started to ready its own counterattack. Ash didn't hear Rosa's quiet command over the roar of the sandstorm; she likely controlled the volume of her voice so that only Lucario with its supernatural senses could decipher her order.
This was one of the two qualities that made Lucario a force to be reckoned with and a frequently used Pokemon among the trainers in the Master League. The other quality was its sheer versatility as an offensive Pokemon, capable of specializing in both physical and special attacks.
Ash sincerely hoped that this particular Lucario was a physical attacker and would use Close Combat to try and counter Infernape; he knew that Infernape's Fire Blast would likely finish off Lucario before it had the chance to land too many hits.
"Psychic!"
'Dammit.'
Ash felt numb, a sensation he had become all too familiar with over the past few months. Far above the arena, the over-sized monitor had Rosa's trainer profile adorned in confetti while his own had become a crossed out silhouette.
Once, he might have taken his loss as a learning experience, as encouragement to do better next time. Unfortunately, you can only tell yourself the same thing so many times before it begins to lose its effect.
The cheering audience and the celebrating, if relieved, Rosa were oblivious to his inner thoughts, however. He was nothing but smiles to anyone outside his own mind.
And his congratulatory remarks weren't insincere - he had lost fair and square after all - and he wasn't bitter about his loss. Empty. That was a far more appropriate word for what he was feeling - he was feeling empty.
This was the fourth tournament where he was knocked out in the first round and it had been two years since he made any real progress in the rankings. Disappointment in himself was a familiar sentiment at this point, and so he was left feeling numb and empty.
So caught up was he in his own self-pity – yes, he knew it was self-pity – that the announcement for the next match flew right over his head as he made his way out of the arena after exchanging one last handshake with Rosa.
What did bring him back to Earth was a firm hand on his shoulder, stopping him mid-stride right in the exact spot where he greeted Barry and Korrina less than an hour ago.
He looked up and realized, not without shock, that the hand belonged to none other than the reigning World Champion, Steven Stone. To say that he was speechless was an understatement and Ash felt more than a little foolish standing there with his mouth slightly agape.
It wasn't his first time meeting Steven; he had encountered the white-haired man several times as a child and many more times once he was in the Master League. Still, his shock was justified - after all he was wallowing in his loss merely a few seconds ago, just to be brought back to reality by the very man who represented everything Ash dreamed of achieving.
"–as a spectacular match, Ash" Steven finished saying. Ash had apparently missed the first half.
"I lost though" Ash said grimly, though not unkindly.
"Don't let it get you. We all have slumps," Steven returned easily, almost as if he expected Ash's reaction. In response, Ash raised an eyebrow, his expression silently voicing his thoughts, 'Even you?'.
"Yes, even me. You'd be surprised how often I lose to the other top rankers whenever I have an off day – they seem to have a sixth sense in detecting whenever I'm off my game and they certainly waste no time in challenging me on those days. Thankfully, it has yet to happen during the day of an official match," Steven said.
At this, Ash smiled a genuine smile at the Hoenn native, "Thanks Steven."
In truth, Ash knew that Steven had a nigh-perfect record in the Master League and it had been years since he had lost a match. It may have been true that he had off days, but the fact was, when it counted, Steven was nothing less than the dominant force of the era and the sole person who could lay claim to being the Pokemon Master.
"Don't get caught up in your ranking too much, Ash – you are a Pokemon Master because you have world-class battling skills, not because you don't lose. Keep moving forward and I guarantee that your Pokemon will respond to those feelings with all their might. You'll come together as one to create an even greater power."
Steven paused before reiterating, "It was a great match."
Ash nodded in return and watched as Steven made his way to the arena, the thunderous applause of the crowd echoed through the hall as he approached.
"And now, the moment you've all been waiting for! Introducing the number-one ranked trainer in the world, the heir to the Devon Corporation and Champion of Hoenn, the Sovereign of Steel . . . Steven Stone!"
Ash could almost swear he felt the building shake with the audience's excitement, but if he felt trapped in an empty void before, he now felt like he was in the epicenter of a black hole.
Steven meant well, Ash knew, and his advice was not without merit, but Ash doubted the white-haired man could truly understand how Ash felt.
After all, Steven's own rise to power began at the young age of thirteen. He was – in fact – the sole trainer of the modern era to not only gain the right to battle a member of the Elite Four after winning the Ever Grande Conference, but to actually come out victorious on top of that.
Typically, the ceremonial battle between a member of the regional Elite Four and the winner of the junior conferences which Ash competed in on his journeys was just that: ceremonial battle, a tradition from the old days more than anything else. The Pokemon League never expected that any junior trainer would actually manage to defeat an Elite Four.
Steven had broken that mold and was quickly placed under the guidance of the reigning World Champion at the time: the Old Dragon, Drake. It was a smart decision by the League; leaving such a young and powerful trainer unchecked would have only led to disaster.
And so Steven became the youngest ever Pokemon Master and by the age of nineteen, had placed himself firmly atop the Master League. Meanwhile, Ash, at the age of twenty four, felt like he was light years away from even just cracking the top ten.
Honestly, Ash knew that it was unfair of him to use Steven as a point of comparison. The steel master was a phenom among phenoms, a trainer who – along with Cynthia and Lance, the second and third ranked trainers respectively – commanded the awe of trainers everywhere.
Ash sighed. He was doing it again. He was doubting himself and his ability to ever get past his current position. But really, what did it matter if he never reached beyond rank 39? What did it matter if he never broke the top twenty?
For all intents and purposes, he had gone above and beyond what most others ever dreamed of by virtue of the fact that he was in the Master League to begin with. And technically, he had long since achieved his dream of becoming a Pokemon Master. So really, there was no reason for him to feel ashamed or disappointed in himself even if he just gave up and settled at rank 44 for the rest of his life.
Yet, the fact that his nails were digging into his palms inside the fist he had involuntarily formed was proof that deep inside, he knew that it killed him to think of never rising to the top.
He wasn't really sure how to feel about that, but he knew he certainly never felt like this back when he was traveling across the regions as a young boy - back when becoming a Pokemon Master was nothing but a dream.
Funnily enough, Professor Oak used to say that everyone had a dream. Grimly, Ash muttered, "Maybe that's because dreaming is the easy part."
"Really? I think it takes a lot of courage to dream actually," said a voice in a tone so soft you could barely hear it; it had an angelic, almost musical, rhythm to it. Though maybe Ash just imagined that last part.
Ash turned to face the newcomer, though he already knew who it was from the accelerated beating of his heart - he should get that checked out one day, it was weird.
A familiar yet strange sight met Ash as he locked eyes with the red-haired girl who had a tendency to cause his thoughts to go haywire – again, due to reasons unknown to him. "Not gonna watch the match, Mist?", he asked.
"I was gonna ask you the same thing, Mr. Pokemon Master," she returned coolly as she took a seat on the floor and leaned back against the wall before patting the spot next to her. Secretly, Ash was glad she hadn't been looking to see him flinch at the words Pokemon Master; she was the last person – for whatever reason – he felt he wanted to see how he was feeling.
"Well, I'm pretty tired from that last match, so I thought I'd skip it and then sleep for an hour or two." That was a lie.
"So I'm going to go the Center to get my Pokemon healed before that." That was true. Maybe the two canceled out?
Misty raised an eyebrow before letting out a rather un-ladylike snort. "Bullshit," she replied.
In response, Ash sighed and took a seat beside her. It should be noted that he definitely did not notice the way her untied hair cascaded down the side of her face as he sat down and he most definitely did not mentally note that it was scented with lavender along with an ever-present tinge of chlorine.
"Well, you're right, it probably would have been way longer than an hour or two," Ash said cheekily as he flashed a grin at her, to which she responded with a mischievous smile and a light punch to the arm.
"Honestly, after all these years, I'm still surprised at how you can possibly sleep over the sound of your own snoring," Misty commented, but there was no real snark behind her words today.
"By the way, where's Pikachu, didn't he go to watch the matches with you from the stands?" he questioned.
"Leaf took him to visit Clemont and Bonnie in the Prism Tower. Apparently, she and Gary had a fight after she found out about his old cheerleaders so she's trying to avoid him for the rest of the day to teach him a lesson," she told him in a joking, light-hearted tone.
In return, Ash put on a smile, causing Misty's own smile to falter. "Okay, seriously Ash, is everything alright?"
"Huh? Yeah, everything's fine, see?" Ash said as he widened the smile in his face in hopes of convincing her.
Misty shook her head. "You do that whenever everything is not fine."
"What?" Ash said, the smile evaporating from his features.
"That half-hearted smile. It may fool everyone else, but don't you dare think for a second that it's going to fool me, Ash Ketchum!" Misty declared, a strange mix of anger and worry seeping into her voice.
"I'm not trying to fool anybody. There's nothing wrong with me." Ash responded firmly.
"Yes, you are. I know you better than anyone else and I can read you like an open book Ash. Now spill. Is this about your loss to Rosa?" Misty continued, brushing aside Ash's denial.
"My lo- no it's not about that. I lost fair and square." Ash responded quickly, anger beginning to rise.
"Then what is it about?"
"It is about nothing. Nothing is wrong. Now drop it, will you?"
"Then why are you getting so mad?"
"I'm not getting mad, you're the one having a tantrum for no reason."
" I am not having a tantrum! I just thought that I'd be a good friend and hear you out on your problems, but apparently you don't trust me enough to share!"
"There's nothing to share! Nothing's wrong with me, stop saying there is!"
"There totally is and I'm not letting it go until you tell me what it is!"
"Well, maybe you just don't know me as well as you think you do? Not that I'm surprised since all you do is yell at me whenever we meet! Some friend!"
"I only yell at you whenever you do something stupid! You just happen to do a lot of stupid things!"
"Well, if I'm so stupid and you're so smart, then why did you keep following me around all those years!"
"Argh! You are impossible! A Geodude has less rocks in its head than you do!"
"Oh, real mature! What's next, are you gonna charge me for a bike that you already got replaced?"
"So what if I already got it replaced! You still owe me for destruction of personal property!"
"Oh, is that so? Why don't you sue me then!?"
" . . . "
" . . . "
" . . . Feeling better?" Misty asked softly.
The hall was silent save for the panting of the two young adults who just participated in a screaming contest. Silently, Ash was thankful for the fact that everyone else had left the hall to go watch Steven's match in the arena and weren't around to see him revert to being a ten year old as he always seemed to do around the beautiful red head.
Not that he thought she was beautiful - of course not, that would be weird - it was just that other people seemed to think she was.
"Sooooo . . .", she drawled. "Are you gonna tell me what's wrong or are we gonna have to get our lungs ready for round two? Huh, Mr. Pokemon Ma-"
"Don't call me that", he interrupted, quietly but bitterly.
Realizing he had just snapped, Ash quickly tried to rectify his mistake. "Erm, I mean . . . it's just confusing, you know? We're both Pokemon Masters after all."
It was true; Misty herself was the incumbent rank 56 of the Master League and was steadily chasing her goal of becoming the greatest water master in the world. Currently, she was the third best - lagging behind Siebold of the Kalos Elite Four and Wallace, the acting champion of Hoenn.
In reality, Steven was the reigning Hoenn Champion, but his duties as World Champion along with Drake's stubborn refusal to retake his old post meant that Wallace, the sixth ranked trainer in the world, was effectively the current leader of the Hoenn Elite Four.
Needless to say, this was Misty's primary goal of coming all the way here to Lumiose City: to capitalize on the rare opportunity of seeing Wallace battle.
The tournament was essentially a front to selecting Argenta's successor and the League was likely looking to replace her with someone who could use a wide array of Pokemon types as that seemed to be the direction Palmer wanted the Battle Frontier to head towards. It followed that type specialists who did not hold official positions like Misty or Iris, despite being Pokemon Masters themselves, were spared invitations to the tournament.
Then again, from the rumors that were circulating around, the top brass were planning on separating the Indigo League into two distinct chapters in the near future, each with its own set of Elite Four. In that event, Johto would likely retain the existing Indigo Elite Four while a new set of master type specialists would be drafted for the Kanto expansion.
Ash didn't need to ask to know that Misty planned on being one of the front-runners for the position when the time came to choose. He would rather die than tell her, but knowing that Misty was on the fast track to achieving her dream made Ash feel an odd sense of loneliness, almost as if he was being left behind.
And somehow, the thought of Misty achieving her dreams while he couldn't even see the light at the end of the tunnel hurt a hell of a lot more than when he thought of Clemont, Brock, Dawn or any of his other friends leaving him behind. This was not, Ash knew, because he felt Misty was less capable than any of his other friends or because he was ashamed that she might reach the goalpost before him. Far from it, Ash believed in Misty more than she believed in herself – and certainly more than he believed in himself nowadays.
So then why did he feel such a conflux of sadness and loneliness at the idea that she could one day become the greatest water master in the world? Maybe it was because it made him feel unequal, like he – a person who was at the fringe of giving up his own ambitions – would no longer have the right to stand next to her. He didn't know what a heart attack felt like, but he imagined it was similar to the pain he felt whenever he imagined a world where the bond he had with Misty was nothing but a memory.
He wasn't stupid of course, despite what Misty - and some of his other friends - constantly told him in jest. He knew that Misty would sooner become a bug master than leave him alone regardless of what rank he ended up peaking at in the Master League. He also knew that he was fussing over a completely hypothetical situation; he was presently ten ranks above Misty and the reigning water master, Wallace, was still well into his prime, unlikely to be taken down anytime soon.
No, if he was being honest with himself, the thing that really bugged him, above all else, was the fact that Misty and Clemont and May and Brock and all the others - all of them still had it. The spark, the hope, the tenacity to move forward, the determination to meet whatever challenges await them head on, the will to run full-speed towards their goals that Ash once possessed in excess, the fire in one's heart that had left him burnt out after only three years in the Master League.
Misty gently took his hand into her own - her slender fingers wrapping around his palm. She did it so gently and so unexpectedly that Ash wondered if she even realized what she was doing or if she was acting out of instinct. From the way her eyes were locked into his, silently prodding him to speak his heart, he guessed it was the latter.
And so, he began: "Its just . . . I'm tired, Mist . . . I'm so tired."
"Of what?" The question was so soft that Ash was half-sure he just imagined it; he went on regardless.
"Of this. Of tournaments. Of the Master League. Of everything." He sighed before continuing, "I'm tired of losing, of getting fired up before a match and feeling cold when its all over. I'm tired of putting my all into it only to find out I'm not good enough every damn time. I'm tired of feeling like . . . like a ping pong ball, just hitting a wall and bouncing back every single time . . . I'm tired of doubting myself."
Misty was now looking at him curiously as if examining a foreign creature, but her mouth remained closed.
"They're all just so amazing, you know? Steven, Cynthia, Lance, Drake, Alder, Wallace, Palmer . . ." he said as he counted off the fingers of his free hand. "I just don't know if I can ever reach that level, if I'll ever be good enough to look one of them in the eye and not feel like I'm completely out of their league."
He closed his eyes for a few seconds before turning ever so slightly to face Misty. A second passed, then another, until . . .
"Ouch!" It didn't hurt, not really, but he flinched nonetheless when she quickly flicked his forehead with her index finger, prompting a short chorus of laughter from his red-headed companion.
She closed her eyes and let out a half-yawn before looking at him through one open eye. "Pfft, and here I thought you were worried over something serious. Turns out you were just feeling depressed over being in a slump."
Ash looked at her with wide eyes, completely taken aback by her reaction. He had just poured his heart out to her and she reacted by laughing and undermining his problems? Who was she to tell him his problems were insignificant?
Before he could formulate a proper response, she continued without missing a beat. "Geez. I thought you were gonna say that you had an incurable disease or that you owed money to Team Rocket or something."
"But seriously, Ash, you're the last person I thought would wallow in self-pity just because you're in a bit of a slump. Actually, you're usually the one who breaks everyone else out of their slumps!"
"Oh, what? I'm not allowed to feel disappointed at the fact that I've been going nowhere for the past two years?" Ash questioned with a hint of venom in his voice - he was more than a little peeved at how she nonchalantly discarded his heartfelt confession.
"No, that's not what I'm saying at all," she said, shaking her head in a way that told Ash she wasn't taking this nearly as seriously as he wanted her to. 'I mean, I'm having a real-life identity crisis here, she could at least look a little grim!' he thought to himself.
"What I am saying is that everyone goes through slumps. Brock, Gary, May . . . even Steven and Cynthia all go through a time where nothing seems to be working out" she paused.
"But it will pass Ash. Trust me, before you know it, you'll be well on your way to the top just like you always dreamed of!" she told him encouragingly.
Ash, for his part remained somber. "But what if it doesn't pass? What if this really is the best that I can do?"
"Then you'll keep trying regardless because you're Ash Ketchum and if I know anything about you, its that you would sooner die than give up without trying."
The decisiveness of her voice caused Ash to involuntarily swallow the lump which had unknowingly been forming in his throat.
"Who cares if you never become the very best like no one ever was? That goal was vague enough to mean pretty much anything to begin with. And do you seriously think that any of your friends or rivals will think any less of you just because you happened to peak at rank 39? Do you really think I'll think any less of you?"
"The Ash we know and love isn't an unbeatable trainer who gets past any challenge and was destined to stand at the top of the Pokemon League. But he is the type of trainer who will lose and get back up no matter what. He's the type of guy who loves Pokemon to a fault and will stand up for what's right even when the odds are ridiculously stacked against him."
She sighed.
"The Ash I know believed in me when everyone - my own sisters, my closest friends, everyone - told me that I should settle for running the Cerulean Gym, that I should give up on the Master League after failing to get in twice."
"But you," she jabbed a finger into his chest, a move which jarringly reminded him of how close they were sitting. "You told me that I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't at least put my best foot forward and try. And that's exactly what I'm going to tell you now."
"I . . ." Ash tried to respond, but was quickly cut off.
"You're absolutely right . . . for once" she quipped. "You may never become the Pokemon Master. You may never break the top five or even the top ten. You could spend the rest of your life in the shadows of others. But you'll never know unless you try and you'll kick yourself every day for the rest of your life if you give up here."
She inhaled sharply and said decisively, "I won't tell you that you'll definitely make your dreams come true, but I will tell you that if I know anything about you, it's that you'll try no matter what to make them a reality."
"And when you sleep at night, regardless of whether you succeeded or whether your efforts crashed and burned, you'll be able to fill that emptiness inside with the knowledge that you gave it your best shot", she finished on a much quieter note.
Ash blinked at her in slight disbelief. "How did you know that I was feeling empty inside?"
Misty just smiled a playful, if slightly melancholic, expression before saying, "Like I said, everyone goes through slumps and feels the emptiness of their efforts at some point in their lives. Myself included."
For the next minute, the only sounds that could be heard were the ticking of the wall clocks and the distant roar of the arena audience.
"You're right, in my heart I know you are . . . but just what if the feeling of emptiness, of worthlessness . . . what if it doesn't go away?" Ash asked, an edge of fear in his voice; fear that nothing would change in his heart even if he went back to his usual self and kept giving a hundred and ten percent every single day.
"Well, you'll just have to fill that hole in your heart with something else then, right?"
Before he could ask, Ash felt a soft pair of lips land gently on his own. Her eyes were closed and lightning flew through his body when she brought her free hand towards his chest while the other still firmly held his own hand.
A torrent of emotions washed over him, but she gradually deepened the kiss and his train of thought effectively crashed and turned to mush. Misty was kissing him and it was all he could do to close his eyes and kiss back, knowing full well that his heart had exploded the moment their lips touched. Oh well, hearts were the most overrated organs anyway.
Ash didn't know how long the kiss lasted, but 'too short' was what he eventually decided upon. As they separated their lips, Misty brought her hands to the sides of his face and rested her forehead against his, speaking in a voice so quiet that Ash could swear she was telling him telepathically.
"I love you with all my heart, Ash Ketchum. And even if nobody else believes in you, even if you don't believe in yourself, I certainly believe in you, Mr. Pokemon Master."
And just like that, a fire was lit and the feeling of emptiness was gone. Maybe it was the encouraging speech she just gave him or just that he didn't want to disappoint the girl who had given him the best kiss of his life. Either way, he felt downright silly that just a few minutes ago, he was ready to just give up on his dreams over a little slump.
Slowly, Misty began to stand, pushing herself up from her knees. Ash was slightly relieved to find that she had a bright red blush adorned across her face – at least he wasn't the only one embarrassed over the (in his opinion, incredibly stimulating) kiss they had just shared.
"Well, I'm gonna go watch the rest of the match. I'll save you a good spot, so why don't you go get your Pokemon healed?" she said as she stretched her arms. She offered him one last, slightly awkward smile before walking down the hallway in the direction of the audience stands.
Before she could make a turn, Ash quickly jumped to his feet and called out, "Misty!", causing her to pause mid-step and whip her head around in surprise.
"Thanks, your words . . . they mean a lot to me!" he exclaimed, sounding more hopeful and encouraged than he had in months. He continued in a more awkward tone, "And . . . um, let's do that again sometime, 'kay?"
She merely smiled and blushed, teasingly sticking her tongue out in response, before continuing on her way and disappearing from his sight.
Ash took a sharp intake of air before stretching out his own arms; it wouldn't do to have his muscles start cramping – after all, he still had a lot of training to do today. He then started in a half-jog towards the Pokemon Center, thoughts of the future filling his head with possibilities.
So what if he lost today? So what if he had been in a slump for the past few tournaments? He was Ash Ketchum and he was going to be the very best like no one ever was.
Thanks for reading!