I'm done tormenting you guys.

Uncertainty

It felt awkward to be around him.

As they traveled, when he would turn to look at her, she would fluster, and look away, unsure and afraid.

When she spoke to him, it would come out in a jumbled mess. She sensed he noticed something, but he was equally troubled with his feelings as well.

After hearing what he said to Satoshi made her confused, scared, and uncertain. Iris did not know what to do. Dent liked her. She was scared. She liked him, of course, but she was unsure of herself as well. Did she love him as much as he loved her? Iris had never really thought of it before. Her hands were wrung in thought, her brown eyes staring out into the sunset-hued sky, hoping that the answer to her quandaries would just come to her. Kibago's front half popped from her thick mane, staring at her, confused and innocent.

"Kiba, kibago?" he called to her, his little claw touching her cheek.

She twitched, and turned to look at him. "Oh, hey," Iris breathed, reaching up to touch the Pokémon's snout. "Just—you wouldn't believe what I heard Dent say last night?"

"Kiba?"

She took an inhale of air, turning to look directly at her Pokémon. "He told Satoshi that he loved me," Iris whispered, leaning forward to cradle her head in her hands.

"Kiba?"

"I don't know what to do," she muttered, not once looking up. "He loves me? He loves me. This is crazy. We've been together for five months, and he loves me? This is too crazy."

"Kibwa?"

"What am I going to do?" Iris exhaled, and craned her head up, staring up into the heavens. "Spirits, what should I do?" She remained silent, and allowed her thoughts to speak to her. She needed the strength to tell him—to relieve herself and him of the burden of keeping their secrets.

Kibago was silent, observing what his Trainer's conflicted face. Just then, Iris stood up, and Kibago was slightly started as he clung to her shoulder.

"I'm going to tell him," she said determinedly, her fists balled up at her sides. Iris turned to her Pokémon, who was still partly situated in her hair. "I have to—we'll just go crazy if nothing will be said about the issue."

"Kiba. Kiba kibwa?" the Kibago stated.

Iris bit her lip. "I do care for him, yeah," she whispered. "Do I love him . . .?" She paused, and thought deeply about what she had said. Did she love him? It was such a mature thing . . . Iris didn't know if she could handle its complexity. He thought he was a good-looking boy (those fan-girls were right to go crazy over him and his brothers), smart (though a bit of a smart-ass), was kind and true to her and Satoshi, cared much about his Pokémon, and was quite the artist with his cooking. He . . . She really did like him, honest. But love? If feeling comfort with another person, being able to feel safe around them, happy when they were happy . . . If that was not love, then what was love? That felt like love. She loved him. "I believe I do, Kibago."

The little dragon Pokémon looked at her with those innocent red eyes of his. Iris continued to look out into the open landscape.

"I guess I do."

And with that, she made her way to the campsite.

Satoshi was training with his Pokémon and Dent was reading when she entered the campsite. He glanced up when she appeared, became slightly flustered, and turned his attention to the text on the pages. Iris approached the green-haired boy, her shadow being cast over him, and that was when he looked up. By the way she was standing and how the light hit her, it made her look like she was glowing. Dent stared at her, his mouth clamped closed, and his eyes wide. She flustered herself, and then cleared her throat. She had memorized what she wanted to say, however, it came out in a jumbled mess.

"You, me in the forest; I want to talk to you. It's important, now, please," Iris said, her Pokémon eyeing her with a look of uncertainty. She was still flustered.

"Kiba . . ." the dragon Pokémon breathed looking right at her.

Iris glared at her first Pokémon before he decided to leave. He leapt from her thick mane, and scampered off, sitting by her backpack. Dent blinked, and he glanced up at her. "Important?" he said.

"Important," she echoed.

He sighed, folded the corner tip of the book to hold his spot, and closed the book. "R-right, if you insist," he said, standing up as he dusted off his trousers. "Alright."

She nodded her head abruptly, and both stood there for a moment in the awkward silence. Iris cleared her throat, and then bobbed her head again. "Okay, let's go," she said, turning on her heel, and shuffled to the forest.

Dent blinked, staring at her for a moment before he decided to follow her. The duo moved through the forest until they reached a clearing. Iris paused, looking over the vast and flower-covered landscape, stopped in her place, and sat on a rock. She turned her head, seeing Dent stand awkwardly by a tree. She motioned for her friend to sit next to him.

"Right," he breathed as he sat next to her.

There was a moment of tense silence. Iris could feel her cheeks flare up even more—if they turned any hotter she would get a second-degree burn. Dent turned to her, staring at her with those beautiful . . . soul-searching emerald eyes.

"Iris, what is wrong," he questioned, drawing in his leg, folding it over his other leg. "The expression on your face is quite unsavory. Tell me what the matter is." Dent wanted to hear what was wrong. He wanted to listen . . .

There was such sincerity in his voice. Iris trembled. She didn't want to ruin their friendship. Maybe she would just lie . . . She couldn't do this. "Never mind," she said, standing up abruptly and left Dent sitting there on the rock. He stared at her, his brows knitted tightly together, confused.

"What was that all about?" the green-haired boy whispered. He then stood up, and rushed to Iris, thinking that he should council her. "Iris! Iris! Wait."

Iris paused a few feet from him, her head hung, and her hands balled up at her sides. She then turned, looking at the green-haired boy, her almond eyes deep and rich with raw unspoken emotion. He approached her side, staring down at her.

"Iris, whatever is the matter?" he asked. "You look tormented."

Iris felt like she was crumbling. She was acting like such a child, and she sighed deeply. "You know what, it's nothing," she said. "It's nothing."

"Iris, you can tell me," he said.

Please talk to me.

She looked up at him. Iris wasn't ready to tell him. She just wasn't ready. "I—it's kinda stupid," she whispered, looking away from him.

"No, please, talk to me," he said. "I won't think it's stupid."

Iris' brows furrowed, and then she sighed. "It's my Doryuzu," she lied. "I can't get him to cooperate with me. I feel lost. I thought that you could help me because you're good at these things—"

Dent grinned. "Of course, I would love to help," he stated, placing a hand to his chest. "Your Doryuzu has an exotic flavor admitting from him—wild, but can be tamed. I would love to help you."

Iris nodded, forcing a smile on her lips. "Oh, good, thank you for your help," she said, looking away from him. She hated lying to him. God, she felt like a kid.

She watched him as he tended to dinner. His apron swung as he gyrated his hips as he sung to himself. The spoon he held in one hand pushed around the ingredients that was in a flat pan that he held in his other hand. God he was so handsome—with his porcelain white skin and those emerald shards of eyes and that grass-green hair. Iris groaned, gripping her thick hair with frustration as her face met with the fold-out table. Kibago watched her as her forehead met the table several more times before stopping. Satoshi and Pikachu exchanged glances before the human boy tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hey, Iris, you okay?" he asked.

She glanced up, seeing her friend's worried expression. "Yeah, fine," Iris muttered.

Pikachu looked at her, cocking his head to the side. "Pika, pika," the Pokémon said worriedly.

Kibago nudged at her arm before she scooped up the small Pokémon, placing him on her lap. "I'm fine," she muttered.

Dent looked at her, frowning, his singing ceased. She looked up at him, and she turned away then. He would have to talk to her . . . after dinner.

Iris was combing out her long hair, her Kibago by her side. Dent, out of habit, smoothed down the front of his pajama top. He was kneeling down on his sleeping bag before he let out a sigh and approached her side.

"Iris, what is wrong," he said, Iris looking away from him. "Could you talk to me? I have an unsettling feeling that this is more than your Doryuzu."

Iris turned to the side, her head looking over her shoulder and right at him. Her hands were still tangled self-consciously in her thick mane. "Well . . . um," she breathed, and then she looked to Kibago, who was nudging her on. She sighed deeply, released her hold on her hair, and turned fully to him. "Dent, I heard what you said the other night . . ."

Nothing could parallel to Dent's utter horror and distress. His eyes widen, his shoulders and neck tensed up considerably, and his hands gripped his pajama pants tightly. His jaw went slack, hung there for a moment, and then it clamped shut as he turned away from her in shame.

"H-h-how much of it did y-you hear?"

"All of it," Iris whispered, her eyes hooded by her bangs.

Dent's heart hammered erratically in his breast, and he lost his voice. "O-oh, Iris, I'm so sorry," he cried, shaking his head. His hands were shaking like leaves in a windstorm. "This—this is in wretched taste. I-I-I—oh, God, our friendship is now ruined." His hands reached up, gripping the sides of his head tightly, and he was trembling.

Iris looked at him before placing a hand to his shoulder. "No," she breathed as she moved in, hugging him tightly. "No, Dent, no, don't say that."

He was trembling violently, but he soon calmed down, feeling warmth in her embrace.

"Nothing's ruined," she whispered, reaching up to stroke his hair. "In fact, I think we're more than friends now."

Dent twitched, and then pulled back, staring at her through wet eyes. "Y-you mean," he whispered, reaching up to dry his eyes. "Y-you like me?"

She smiled, nodding. "Yeah, I think I do," Iris breathed. "I—I really like you. You're different than most guys, that's why I like you." She turned away, looking at her Pokémon. "You're kind, generous, an amazing cook . . . You are a good person . . . I like you."

Dent could not contain himself anymore; the tension was too thick in the air. He threw himself at her, his mouth connecting to hers in a sloppy and extremely wet kiss. Iris tensed as she felt a steady stream of wetness trail down her cheek and onto her chin. The green-haired boy pulled back, and a small line of saliva connected their mouths together. He swallowed sharply, staring at her. There was a moment of awkward silence before laughter ensued.

"I'm sorry, that was not of good flavoring," he said, reaching up to dry the wetness on her cheek and chin. He then whipped his hand on his pant leg before looking back up at her. "May I try again?"

Iris nodded, a small smile on her lips. Kibago started to move away, allowing the two to be alone. Dent smiled, kissing her again as his arms wrapped around her in a romantic fashion. Her arms slipped up, wrapping around his slender neck. Their mouths massaged the other sweetly as Dent decided to be more adventurous. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and Iris happily welcomed it into her mouth. They stayed like that, holding each other, their mouths locked in a hungry kiss. Both pulled back, and stared at each other, both panting.

"You taste like a basket of fresh fruit," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek. "Sweet and tasty."

Iris grinned, pressing herself to his chest, hugging him tightly.

"Lightly flavored with the refreshing seasonings of love and joy."

"Yeah," Iris breathed. "Love and joy."

Dent looked at her, hugging her close, his chin on hers. Iris pulled apart from him, and snuggled into her sleeping bag, and motioned for Dent to join him. He stared at her, blushing before joining her. He curled up next to her as Kibago snuggled between them. Iris briefly thought of Satoshi when he would return, but, oddly enough, she did not care what he was going to say.

SO SAPPY.

Hey, do any of you like Howl's Moving Castle? I'm writing a fiction of it and it's not getting any love. If you may . . . I would like to know what you think.