I do a lot of things on impulse, I've found. Once, when I was seven, my mom baked a cake for my friend Cheren's birthday party. His mom had been too busy planning the occasion to make it herself, and it was a magnificent creation, too. It was colored like a Pokéball, and my mother had put on so much frosting you could probably push your finger down an inch without hitting the fluff. There were even these little figures of Tepig, Oshawott, and Snivy on it, made out of something minty. Now that I think about it, perhaps it was mint. Go figure.

My mom set the cake on the counter and told me to not, under any circumstances, eat it, as if eating it would save me from a burglar or a rampaging Zebstrika or Bianca's hugs. I thought it sounded kind of weird even at the time, but I went with it, not even looking at that oversweet behemoth when she went upstairs to take a nap. I wasn't really in the mood for cake, anyway. However, that wasn't the case for long. I soon forgot about my solemn vow, but didn't automatically jump at it. I simply had no reason to. And yet that's exactly the reason why I did what I did. I was just sitting there, watching a Pokémon battle on TV, when, on impulse, I decided, 'I'm gonna eat the whole cake.'

There was no reasoning behind it or anything; I still wasn't even in the mood. I was even aware that eating the whole cake would be a really stupid thing to do, because there was no way I could possibly fit something twice the width of my head into a seven-year-old stomach. I did it anyway, though. I stood up on a footstool, grabbed the cake, sat it down next to me on the floor, and proceeded to rip great chunks out of the cake with my pudgy fists. It did taste good, but I soon began to feel quite full and nauseated. And yet I kept eating it, all because of that stupid impulse. I figured since I'd already started, why stop?

By the time my mom came downstairs an hour and a half later, I was covered in frosting and sitting amidst a wasteland of cake chunks. There may or may not have been some puddles of vomit here and there. I spent the rest of the afternoon bent over the toilet, puking my guts out, along with about a ton of frosting. When my mom asked me why in the world I'd do such a colossally stupid thing, I just said, "I felt like it." Needless to say, I was grounded for a week. Cheren didn't seem to mind, though; it would seem that he didn't like cake. I hear they all sat in a circle, eating apples and reading for three hours.

This proved to be the first of the many, many impulsive actions I'd take over the years, from spontaneously cleaning the house in record time to chugging five cups of coffee to banging on the piano until my mother came in and smacked the back of my head. They've all had varied results, but my most recent, and perhaps my greatest, came today, at age 16. And it had to do with White.

White sat on a bench in Nuvema Town's only park, wearing her usual clothing, watching kids and Pokémon play and enjoying the day. It was a rather pleasant one, and she was utterly content to just sit here and do nothing. But, knowing her luck, the peace wouldn't last for long.

She was right, as it happened. All of a sudden, her vision was gone as a pair of rough hands slid down over her eyes. There was a half-second of panic, until she remembered the only person with the balls to do this.

"Guess who?" came his voice.

"Hmmm…" White pretended to think it over. "Oh! I know! It's someone who's about to get judo-flipped over this bench if he doesn't get his dirty mitts off my eyes."

There was a sound of laughter as Black pulled his hands away. It was a nice sound, very full of life and energy, and she found herself smiling. "Jeez, White," he said. "Every time. You know, I'd think you'd be a bit more tolerant of it, seeing as this happens almost every day. If you're really gonna judo-flip me, do it."

"Don't push your luck, bud," White said. "Well, since you've already thoroughly ruined my peaceful moment, why don't you sit down? We can talk, I guess." Black complied, coming around from behind the bench and plopping himself down next to her. He was wearing his trademark clothing, too, minus the hat. "So, what's up?"

All the hostility was completely false. The two had been friends for years, ever since White had moved in when they were seven. They probably wouldn't have had anything to do with each other if Black handn't ran over to the moving van and introduced himself on what he later admitted was a total whim. Not only had they hit it off, but their moms had as well, and soon both pairs had become very close. School, sports, and stupidity; Black and White did it all and more. The teasing had been painful, of course, but they'd toughed it out, constantly reassuring people that they were just friends. And they were, without fail, nothing more.

That had changed for Black when they'd gotten their first Pokémon at 13. Black had gotten Tepig and White had picked Snivy, and as the two were celebrating, Black looked at White… and something changed. Here he'd been, living across the street from this girl for six years; how had he not noticed just how wonderful her smile was? He was already grinning, but the sight made it even larger, up to the point of uncomfortability. The next day, when they were going to leave on their journey, he noticed just how short her shorts were. How was it even legal? That was a whole lot of exposed skin, and he found it… tantalizing. Luckily, he shook himself out of it before he started to drool. That would've been just about the most embarrassing thing ever.

As they set off and she began talking to him, he found himself uncharacteristically interested in the things she had to say, and noticed a pleasant tingling feeling in his stomach that he'd felt only once before, when he'd had a tiny crush on Bianca. When they finally decided to split up and do their own thing for a while, she gave him her usual friendly hug goodbye, he found himself resisting the urge to hold her tighter, perhaps give her a peck on the cheek. It was right there, after all. What was the harm?

'Everything,' he'd scolded himself. It'd likely ruin the relationship. And so he didn't. But that didn't mean he didn't have to force himself not to greet her with more than a hug every time they met up on their journey. She seemed to get prettier every time, which he supposed was true. She was changing, same as he was… though her changes were *cough* a lot more noticeable. It was even truer than before, 16, back in town, and finished with their journey, at least for a while. He'd been feeling this way for three years now, and as he thought back to all the memories, he sort of zoned out of the conversation.

"… and I would kill for something sweet right now. How about you, Black?" White waited a moment for an answer, and when no answer was given, she glanced over at him. He was staring off into space, a little half-smile on his face. "Black?" she said, a little worried. He didn't usually do this. After a few seconds, she shouted at him. "Black!"

Black was jolted back into reality. "Huh?" he said, confused. Then he seemed to remember she existed. "Oh! Right. Sorry. What were you saying?"

White smirked. "I said I'd kill for something sweet right now, like some brownies." At this, Black froze, his entire body becoming tense. There was something… off in his eyes, like something wasn't quite right. What was going through that head of his? She was about to ask, when suddenly he shot to his feet, causing her to jump back. "Black, what's wrong?"

He looked at her and gave her a crazy smile. "Not important. Gotta go. See you in a few. Bye!" And then he was off, sprinting down the path, rapidly becoming smaller. White scratched her head, a puzzled expression plastered on her face. 'What is he doing this time?'

Black was wondering something similar as he bolted through Nuvema, swerving around people, fire hydrants, Lillipups, and the like. He suspected it was his natural impulsiveness taking control, but that wasn't important right now. Time for thinking about what he was doing later; right now, the objective was brownies. He burst through the door of the small bakery, startling the lady at the counter. "Half a dozen brownies, hot as they can get without being runny!" he shouted as he nearly crashed into said counter. He wrenched a huge wad of cash out of his pocket and slammed it down on the table. "Keep the change. Just hurry!"

As the very confused and somewhat frightened woman worked as quickly as she could, Black bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet. What was taking so long? He needed the brownies now! When the woman handed him the red bag filled with his order, his hand snatched it so fast, he couldn't follow it, holding it in a deathgrip. He shouted his thanks as he flew out the door.

It was only when he began approaching the park that he finally slowed down and realized just how fast he'd been going. That bakery was clear across town! He hadn't run that fast in a long time, and he began to wheeze. He still managed to jog up behind White as she walked out of the park. "White!" he shouted, causing her to turn. "Wait… up!"

He stopped just in front of her, breathing hard. "Black…" she said, a worried expression on her face. "You left five minutes ago. What got you so out of breath?"

She waited for a minute while he regained his breath and began breathing normally again. "I ran." He said.

"You ran."

"Yes."

"How far?"

"Across town."

"Across town? To where?"

"Bakery."

"For what reason?"

At this, Black grinned. He held up a red bag up in front of him, one she hadn't noticed he was holding before. On the front, in delicate golden handwriting, was the word "Brownies."

"For you," he said, the grin never leaving his face.

White couldn't believe it. She'd mentioned her craving for some in passing, just to let him know. She didn't expect him to care enough to actually act on it. "For… for me?" she asked, her eyes widenging, her cheeks growing warm. She was blushing, she knew it. She never blushed! And certainly not because of Black.

Black looked at her quizzically for a moment before resuming grinning. "Well, yeah, White. I said so, didn't I?" As he said this, White felt her blush grow deeper. Her hands balled up and went to her chest, near her collarbone.

"Black…" she started, unable to find the right words at first. "I… I recognize that packaging. The bakery you went to is the most outrageously expensive one this side of Unova! How much did you pay for this?"

"Dunno. I was in too much of a hurry to count the money, so I sort of slapped all I had down on the counter… and told the lady to keep the change."

White was taken aback. Nobody had ever done something like this for her before. It was so sweet of him! He'd just up and ran to the bakery and spent all his money on some brownies… for her. "Black, I… thank you so much."

"Don't worry about it."

"Um, okay, but, uh, I have to ask: why'd you do it?"

Black's grin widened. "I felt like it." And then he started to laugh that wonderful, energetic laugh of his. "I guess I just needed to do it. Sort of like I needed to come over and say hi when you moved."

When he said that last part, White couldn't help but grin as well. Then she looked him in the eye… and something changed. Here she'd been, living across the street from this boy for nine years; how had she not noticed just how wonderful his smile was?

AN: I hope you guys liked it! This was my first foray into Chessshipping, which I'm increasingly certain is my OTP. If enough people want me to, perhaps I'll do more, but for now, I'm just gonna let this little gem of mine sit here.

I apologize for any grammar mistakes I may have made. If anyone would like to help me edit it in this regard, I'd love to have you! And I think that's all I have to say for now. Please review with feedback and suggestions if you have them. Bye!

~Lover of Video Games