something you never forget
.
.
.
idk.
He was what, eighteen now? Or nineteen?
Eighteen sounded better, Ash decided. Kind of an adult, but not too old either. Some people might believe it to be strange, that someone like Ash who made it a point to never miss an important day in anyone else's life, often forgot the ones in his own. His birthday was a very good example — his friends were often the ones that remembered, not him.
However, that was a topic for another day. Fortunately, today was not his birthday, but someone else's. This birthday had been marked on his calendar every day since he was ten. And the present, well, he'd never been able to get around to it until now.
On his way to her house, Ash thought it was kind of funny that he was going to use her present before she even got to see it — how else was he going to get there? People might think he was stupid for carrying it around on some other mean of public transportation, instead of actually using it.
I hope her favorite color's still yellow, he thought, admiring it. It was a pretty kind of yellow, light and summery like that shirt she wore when they first met.
The trip wasn't terribly long, considering how far he had to actually travel-only about an hour, maybe two considering all the rest stops he took.
What if she doesn't remember me? the thought occurred to him. Seven years is a pretty long time, and it's not like I look the same way I did when I was ten.
He was a little bit ashamed, actually, that he hadn't made the effort to see her in such a long time. It was just that he was never home, too busy going on some adventure. Quite frankly, he almost couldn't stand it, being home for too long. His leg would bounce in anticipation, body itching to do something fun, daring — something he couldn't really get at home anymore. It made him mother sad, but she understood.
"Your father was like that too," she said.
In fact, tonight he was leaving again, and this time for good. He was moving to Hoenn, for... personal reasons, and intended on staying there for quite a while. Visits were obviously mandatory, but they weren't going to be frequent.
The wind blew Ash's hair into his face again. It was getting long, the sections on either side of his face skimming his jaw line. His bangs were also quite unruly, always poking at his eyes and tangling with his eyelashes.
I'll cut it after the trip.
The bright blue door suddenly appearing before him brought the teenager out of his thoughts.
He was there.
Pulling a stick-on bow from his sweatshirt pocket — "Ash, you dress almost exactly the same, pick up a magazine!" — he stuck it on the front, making sure it stayed in place. He knocked on the door about three times, and waited.
It creaked open. "Hello?" Big green eyes greeted him. Ash waved, prompting her to open the door wider.
"Hey, Misty. Remember that bike that I never replaced?"
"Once you learn to ride a bike, it's something you never forget."
