Stupid

Misty's ID number was 1163169F. It was the number they locked her in as the day she had been dragged in, kicking and screaming, and it was the number they'd reuse when she died. Unless, somehow, she managed to boost her Battle IQ and win every battle she face. If she managed to be a great of Team Rocket, they'd save her number, teach it to future students, and immortalize her in the history books. Arceus, how she wanted that.

But she had come to accept that it would never happen.

Instead, she resigned herself to the room at the end of the hallway. It was messy, shirts, pants, bras, underwear and the occasional sock littering floor. Though, once a month they vanished down the small metal hole in her wall and returned folded and ironed on her bed, smelling like flowers and detergent. She had no reason to bother cleaning because, unlike the other students, she had no roommate, no daily inspections and nothing that could be taken away as punishment. There were two bunkbeds, each with a rough, plastic mattress, white sheets, and dark green blankets, pillows were fluffed at the top. At least, on the right one. The rest of the beds were unmade disasters, pillows scatters about the bed as if she had purposely spent an afternoon messing them up. A desk sat opposite the door, under a small window with white miniblinds, and was scattered with notebooks, textbooks, and a keyboard with a holographic monitor that blinked the time in white on a light purple digital readout.

Every morning, at seven, it beeped. Three quick ones, a pause, then three quick sounds again until she rolled out of bed and typed 'off' on her keyboard. She would pull off the bra and underwear she had worn that night, pull on a new set, and pick up clothes from the floor that smelled fresh, and pull them over her head. A moment later, she picked up her red, drawstring bag and strode out the door. As she walked, she swept up her hair in a messy side ponytail and fastened it with the color of the day. Blue was Monday; green was Tuesday; yellow was Wednesday; orange was Thursday; red was Friday; purple was Saturday and black was Sunday.

She would then stroll down the hallway, up the stairs with a hundred other kids, and trot into Mr. Audley's room.

She liked Mr. Audley. He was her science teacher, and though she knew it was ridiculous to think so, it seemed as if he had set the entire room up just for her. Skulls of pokémon, models, and even a few pokeballs and loose critters in the back lined the room, begging for her to wander and touch. The man never told her no in a tone that implied she was three and he did not mind when she took a minute to sit in the back of the classroom, surrounded by pocket monsters, and jot notes in her notebook or follow along with his lecture. Possibly best of all, if she raised her hand, he would call on her.

On the day she met Ash, she raised her hand in class.

"Misty," Mr. Audley nodded to her.

She was buried in ratatas, the little rats nibbling at her bare skins and crying their name loudly with excitement. Still, she raised her voice and carried it to him with more curiosity than any of his other students. "You said that all pokémon have the ability to come from eggs. You said that they also have the possibility of live birth. Why would all, pardon, most pokémon be able to deliver a live pup as well as an egg. Certainly evolution would only call for the more effective way."

His balding brown haired head shook, green eyes closing and small glasses being pushed up his nose. "The whysof the world are not on the test, Misty. They never are."

She rolled her eyes. "Mr. Audley, you and I both know that it doesn't matter how good I do on the test as long as I can't battle. Won'tchya just tell me what's going on with this stuff? I swear I want to know, so you won't be wasting your time. No one in class really is listening aside from me anyway."

He sighed, but spoke. "You're correct in that, but you're forgetting the most important part: humans. Now, we completely warped the system. We did not only mess with Stepped Evolution, but Smooth Evolution. The difference between the two is probably we can easily see Stepped Evolution, such as ratata to raticate, but we can't see how the ratata, once half the size, managed to grow as a species this big. Are you following me so far, Misty?"

"Following as best I can, sir," She nodded.

"Alright, now depending on the pokémon, either egg or live birth would be better. Pokémon that lived in packs went with live birth. With one pokémon always around to protect it, and the memes that had to be learned through pack life…" He trailed off, scanning the rest of the class. "And, memes will be on the test, class. They're a learned skill, not an instinctual one, such as counting to ten. Make sure you know that definition."

"Okay, so why would a pokémon opt for live birth aside from teaching memes? Pokémon that don't live in groups have live births all the time. Even predators do, and it'd be much easier to have the eggs, so they aren't slowed down by pregnancy, and then have the first evolved from out and hunting in a matter of seconds. With something like that, you'd figure practically all pokémon would opt for that. It's much safer."

"A predator would have more time to teach a pokémon hunting skill. As for your other questions, I'm afraid I can't answer that. Having a egg does seem better, but we've noticed that pokémon would rather have live young. It's almost a constant. When the pokémon is not in a stressed environment, there are live births. When there is stress, the eggs increase. This is shown as post war pokémon all came from eggs. Does that help answer your question at all?"

She paused before the next question, mouth hanging open wordlessly.

"If you have nothing to say, Miss Misty, I suggest you close your mouth so the butterfree don't fly in. I do have a class to teach, so talk quickly."

"Eggborns," She blurted, causing the class to turn and look at her. "I mean, ah, human…human Eggborns. What do you know about them? We've all heard that once the war started, the rare, practically unheard of labor where women had, well, eggs instead of humans, and then those humans began practicing Stepped Evolution…how much is known about them? Were they really some kind of poison created by the Rebellion, or were they just a natural human reaction to the stress of war. You know, the human body just naturally tried to keep the baby safe mother safe, so they had…" She swallowed again. "Eggs."

"Eggborns," He said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not supposed to touch on that topic. Nobody knows too much about them except that they were fantastic fighters and tended to be socially numb. Probably because, through Stepped Evolutions, they didn't learn the behaviors they needed to survive around other people. Most of them, as you know, couldn't tell the difference between a friend and an enemy and were considered-"

"Defective," She finished, hands hesitating in the short fur.

A boy turned to her then, blue-purple hair cut just below his ears, green eyes curious. "Are you an Eggborn, or just a bit defective."

Misty searched his face, looking for malice, something disgusted, but found none. He was simply curious, maybe even a small touch of pity dwelling in his eyes. Sure of his intent, she held his eyes and spoke loud enough for the class to hear, "I'm not an Eggborn, and I'm not defective. If I was defective, don't you think I'd be dead by now? My Battle IQ may be low, but I can think just fine. My class grades would be higher than yours if I bothered taking a test."

He blinked. "I heard you were stupid."

"Well, I'm not. In fact, when it comes to every day knowledge, I'm probably brighter than you."

"Students," Mr. Audley warned. He snapped his fingers four times, each time louder than the last to try and bring them back. "Settle down now. This isn't about intelligence. We're trying to learn science here. Remember, Stepped Evolution versus Smooth. You'll be having a test on this. You need to pay attention."

He cocked his head at her. "Do you know who I am?"

"An asshole?" She asked, a tiny smirk appearing on her lips.

"Take your pills, you're acting crazy," the boy advised. "I'm James. My parents donate enough money to this school each day to buy you three times over. Then again, I wouldn't need much to buy you. Defects are never worth much, especially when they're Eggborn."

"Excuse me, James, I'm no-"

"Misty," Mr. Audley said sharply. "Please, go out to the hallway, take a pill. This conversation won't be going anywhere pleasant. When you've calmed yourself down, feel free to step back into the classroom. Make sure the gate is closed and brush the straw off you. The last thing we need is for ratatas and straw to litter the hallways. Class will end soon and I'm sure you wouldn't mind getting a head start to your next classroom."

She did as she was told, eyes narrowing as she stormed out of the classroom. Her hand automatically dug in the near invisible pocket, bringing out a lime green pill and gulping it down dry. It was hardly the size of her smallest fingernail, but it seemed to go down the a rock. Her beating heart slowed, temper subsided, and her eyes began to half close in an almost sleepy gaze. The pill worked quickly and lasted for a few minutes, she barely noticed the students whirling around her, and didn't come out of the heavy daze for a while.

That is, until she heard a voice down the hall. A new voice, and that was just enough to start her heart pounding again.

"…But it probably would have been easier to put it on the roof. Then you'd have as much room as you wanted. But then we probably wouldn't have gotten such big halls or high ceilings, so there's some good to it. Maybe that was the whole plan behind it." The boy nodded to Earl, walking down the hallway with a carefree, boyish stride. He looked too young to be walking through here, but she supposed he just had a high Battle IQ.

"Probably wasn't a plan…Oh, not this fucker again." Earl had seen her, the boy was attempting to understand, but Earl knew exactly what was going on.

She hated Earl. There was no nice way to put it. With every fiber of her being she wished he would keel over dead. He had never liked her, not form the first time she met him. He was always shoving pills down her throat, kicking her out his door, and trying his best to get her in trouble. He wouldn't leave her alone, expecting her to be like the other kids, at times cornering he and yelling at her with alcohol and smoke on his breath. After a few minutes he would stagger away, still muttering about defects and banging into walls. It was from these lectures that she assumed the feeling of hatred as mutual.

That, and the fact that he also referred to her as a 'fucker'.

He barked at her, walking in as if he was the greatest thing since medication. "What the hell are you doing here? Isn't there some classroom for you to be in? It's in the middle of a period! I know it's a little hard for you to understand, but until the pretty bell rings, you're supposed to be inside a classroom, not aimlessly wandering the halls like you're the greatest thing alive. Here's the rule for you, girlie: If there's no adult around, you're doing something wrong."

Her thoughts still blurred, her eyes were still heavy, so she could only blink and stare wide eyed at him, barely managing to squeeze out the slurry words: "But, you're here, and you're an adult, aren't you?"

She saw his jaw clench in a tight line. "Then what were you doing before I got here?"

"Nobody cares where I go, you wouldn't care if he wasn't here," She said, her voice holding the barest touch of anger. "It's not a big deal as long as I'm out of everyone's way…"

It descended into a rant, a brief argument, when suddenly a hand was offered to her and the Ash fellow was introducing himself. It was strange to her, most people skipping the courtesies and moving right by her. The boy was new though, so she decided to go the polite route and explain things to him and apologize to Earl. Earl did not take it lightly, and he began his tirade. She retorted it by talking to Ash. She was quite sure the last thing Earl wanted was her interacting with the boy, and she was soon proved right as the man stalked off, hoping to take Ash with him.

Instead, the new kid stayed, moving closer to her. He was closer then most people would dare to get, hand resting on the wall and body sending off a pulse of heat. He smelled like outside instead of cheap soap and shampoo, and his voice seemed to hold more emotion with one word than some did with long lectures. "Name?"

She wasn't sure what to do. No one had ever specifically given her the rule Avoid All Others or Keep Your Mouth Shut, but it seemed like an unwritten law. She really didn't like breaking rules, but she did know there was a rule about being polite. She held her inner struggle for a moment, then finally sighed, "Misty, Ash Ketchum. Pleasure to meet you. You better keep up with Earl; he'll get mad if he sees you talking to me."

The boy beamed, looking a little too ecstatic with the small bit of information, and could barely blurt out: "Nice to meet you too," before running off to chase ear, Pikachu chattering away and glancing back at her on his shoulder.

The boy began speaking, not realizing how well sound carried through the halls: "So, Earl, what's the deal with her? She doesn't seem normal."

"She's not. She's an idiot. She failed her Battle IQ, completely useless with pokémon. She's not allowed to have any. Stupid bitch would try to eat them. She's weaning off the system, Ash. She's a defect. They found her orphaned and took her into the school, Team Rocket's a good organization like that, but now there's nothing we can do to get through…"

Their voices faded away, leaving Misty with the tiniest of pangs. There was only one way she could think of to solve it, and that was to dig in her pocket and pull out another pill, swallowing it quickly and rubbing at her itching eyes. She sighed with relief as the pill quickly kicked in, taking all the wild, crazy thoughts out of her head and throwing her into a calming high. She hit the wall and slid down to the floor, eyes closing and sighing with relief.

She would stay there for hours, curled up softly on the floor and alternating between napping and letting her mind fill with dreams of being a great, of being the best Team Rocket member to ever grace the hallways. She was never kicked, never touched, and she guessed that she was never even spared a glance at as the kids rushed by. She liked it that way, it was much better to hear the conversations, to find all sorts of things out that maybe the teachers didn't want her to know. She did find something interesting out that day, from two rushing by men in white lab coats with red R's drawn on the front.

"I heard from the higher ups that they think the Rebellion's going to be making their move soon, possibly before the end of the year."

"Doubt it, higher ups always jump to conclusions. Hey, ah, what's the new password to get into the lab? I lost the key."

"One, nine, nine, two, y'idiot. Put the key on a string or something…"

During her free period, she opted for the simulators. There were two types of simulators, the truly good ones, where pokémon would duck and dodge depending on what the trainer said. They were as close to a real battle as one could get, though the computers inside would freeze if the trainer tried something unexpected. Misty typically opted for the other one, a roleplay game for kids. You would pick a region, get a starter, than work your way through the region, gather badges, beat the Elite Four, and whatever else you felt like. This was much smaller than the blocky computers, in fact, small enough to fit inside a pair of dark sunglasses, each shaded lens holding a digital screen that followed her eye movement as to where she wanted to go, what moves she wanted to use, and whatever other choices were presented in the game.

She practically fell out of her chair when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Misty whipped off her glasses, eyes squinting in the brighter light to see Ash Ketchum. He had a bright smile, lopsided with white teeth flashing and was situated on the arm of her chair. One leg was bent up in front of him and the other one dangled down on the floor. "Hello, Miss Misty. Misty is your name, right? See, I'm sharing a room with you, but I just realized that I have no idea where it is. Would you mind stopping whatever you're doing and taking me up? I'm tired and nauseous, so the sooner I can lay down the better."

She blinked up at him, head cocked to the side and proclaimed. "You have a Pikachu on your shoulder."

"Yes, I do," Ash agreed with a small nod. "He's very friendly. Could you, uh, take me to the room."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You said you're nauseous, why? Was it because Earl smells like cigarettes and beer? They've got pills for when you're nauseous, you should take one. The nurse's office is out the back door, you'll see a short hallway with all the medical stuff. The one without a Chansey or the word "Emergency" or "Therapy" on the door is the one you'll want to go in. Then you should be able to relax and play on the simulators."

Ash looked startled. "Are you trying to keep me out of your room?"

"If I was trying to keep you out of my room I'd sit in front of the door with a knife and a crazy smile," She said, a slight sarcastic smile fighting its way onto her lips. "But, you probably shouldn't go in there. I'm not used to roommates. My underwear is all over the floor. I guess I'd have to clean it. That, or you could be a gentleman and sleep outside until you're eventually terminated because you're not nearly as good at battling as you say you are."

"You either don't like me or you're a cynical bitch."

"I've only know you for a few minutes. How can I either like or dislike you?" She asked, standing up and pocketing the glasses. "I can take you back to the room, but you have to be patient. If you wait outside for a while I'll clean up. You can have a bunkbed all to yourself, I guess we're going to have to set up an account for you on the computer, but that can wait, since I'm guessing you don't want to see my underwear all over the floor."

"You'd be wrong there," He grinned cheekily.

Misty blinked at him. "I'm sorry?"

Oh, right. Weird kids, Ash thought, an eyebrow raising. "It's nothing. We get a computer?"

He rushed to keep up with the girl, her strides long and quick as she made her way out the room and to the elevators, Pikachu bouncing wildly on his shoulder with each heavy step. (Nice subject, change, Ketchum. You're one good liar, buddy. I think we've determined that these kids have no sexual drive. That's a pretty good thing, considering you can't get any no matter what you do. You know who else won't be able to get any? She's yellow, rides on your shoulder, and is being called a boy.)

"Your Pikachu talks a lot," Misty remarked over her shoulder. "He's cute. Do you have a nickname for him? I know some don't. They don't like to get to close in case their pokémon get taken away. Nothing like getting a new batch of pokémon. That's the first time I ever saw a kid cry, you know that? Took away three of them, saying he was getting to type specific and his team was balanced enough. They had too many weaknesses. It's a pity, the guy was one of the best battlers we had, but that ruined him."

She punched the up button with her left hand and leaned against the wall as the rickety thing groaned. "He's a crazy now. His pills are just one step below mine. I hope Rai's okay. He's been going extra slow lately. You'd figure they'd put an extra electric type down there to give him a break. If not for that, for efficiency's sake. He'll live longer if they wouldn't push him so hard, poor baby. You know there's only twenty pokémon that run this school's electricity?"

The doors slid open and the two stepped inside. "What do you mean he went crazy?"

"He went crazy, that simple. He was crying and screaming and throwing a tantrum. They gave him some pills to calm him down and he's still here. Pretty much all the kids, press three, take some sort of pill to keep them from going insane. Except for Cassidy, Botch, Jessie and James, but that's because they have the best stats." She tapped her chin. "It's not Botch…Huh. It's impossible to remember that boy's name and I have no idea why. Press three…and what's your name again? Adam?"

"Ash," He corrected, pressing the button. "Ash Ketchum. I'm from Pewter and-"

"Pewter?" She repeated, looking at him from the corner of her eye. "You don't sound like you're from Pewter. You're pretty…" She trailed off, trying to think of a way to put it. Pewter was a tough town, and though the boy wasn't exactly a powder puff, he didn't look like he could stand up to a town like that. On top of it, well, he didn't look like a drug addict. If there was one thing Pewter was well known for, it was drugs…and alcohol. "You don't look like you're from Pewter."

"I'm stronger than I look," Ash said indignantly. "Really, just because I'm not buff and tall doesn't mean-"

"Not that," She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you're plenty strong. You've just got…well, you've got a baby face."

The elevator doors slipped open, and she walked out, but Ash stood, a blank look on his face. Meanwhile, Pikachu seemed terribly amused. "Baby face? You mean…you think I'm a little kid or something, right? I'm not just a little kid, y'know! I'm sixteen! How old are you, huh? All cocky! You can't be any older than I am!"

"I'm eighteen," She retorted coolly. "There's nothing wrong with a baby face. Don't just stand there, hurry up. I didn't mean you were young or weak. Men older than you and stronger than you have faces just like yours. You look young. You're not very intimidating and you just don't seem like you're someone from Pewter. But if you're from Pewter, maybe it's changed in the past couple of years or there's some kind of circumstance I don't know about. I'm sure you're plenty strong."

(I think you were just insulted,) Pikachu grinned, leaping gracefully from his shoulder and bouncing up on Misty's.

"Hey! Where are you going?" He cried, chasing after the rodent. He was soon right behind them, glaring over Misty's shoulder at the cooing rat in Misty's arms. "You're awfully good at petting him. I'm sure you're pokémon love you." The second he finished speaking, he furiously mouthed 'get on my shoulder! You'll get us caught!'

(I only stay with winners,) She purred, much to Ash's displeasure.

"Oh, I'm not allowed to have any pokémon," Misty shook her head. "They always give me loaners to battle with, but I'm not allowed to actually keep any. I'd get in a heap of trouble if I did. Besides, I'm not too smart. I'd probably just mess up. Though, there's no rule against me touching a pokémon. I've got no problems playing with yours, the cutie. Aren't you a sweet boy? Nicest little thing I've ever seen. He's so friendly! How'd you get him to be like that?"

"Well, he's typically a one person pokémon," Ash muttered. Which, he mused, wasn't exactly a lie. Pikachu was plenty sociable, never exactly snapping or sparking at people and always tolerating a pat or two, but he had never seen her on her back, leaning into every touch. The mouse hardly ever let him get that close unless they were alone, and yet, here she was, with someone she'd known for only a minute. "You seem pretty, ah, good with pokémon."

"Do I? Well, pokémon just tend to like me. I don't know, I guess it's the difference between being a parent and babysitting. As for your Pikachu," He wrinkled her nose and returned her attention to the happily squirming creature in her arms. "It's just so cute! I don't see how something like this could only hog one person. You have him sit on your shoulder all the time, don't you? Maybe he's just been getting more sociable over the years. Or, maybe, he just likes girls. He's just a little playboy, huh, you little sweetie?"

"Sure, little playboy," Ash agreed absently.

Misty drew close to the door and turned the handle. There was no lock, no key, just a smooth opening door she faded behind. This would have been fine, if she hadn't taken Pikachu with her and did something that sounded an awful lot like a lock clicking into place on the inside.

"Hey, ah, Misty. Not to be picky or anything, but I like to have Pikachu close to me at all time. By all times I mean, ah, could you just toss huh.-er, I mean, could you toss him through the door. Not that I don't have other pokémon on me, I do. I'm just not, ah, used to him not being around." His foot began to tap against the floor, licking his lips nervously and wringing his hands. "This isn't cool anymore. Please, hurry up and open the door and just toss Pikachu out! I need her-him. Mew, I don't know why I keep doing that. I think it's because, uh, he replaces my mother and I really, really need him with me. Just bring him out to me!"

She opened the door, Pikachu in her arms and face cool. "Please don't yell at me, Ash. Pikachu was sniffing around. He was curious about the room, alright? I didn't steal him; he's right here. Just breathe, alright? Calm down, take a pill, and relax for a moment. I'll clean up the dirty clothes and, well, you can make your own bed. Just give me a minute, breathe. I just wish they had warned me, or that you weren't a crazy and followed the rules and didn't come into my damn room." She turned away, closing the door a little harder than necessary, than poking her head out again. "Sorry, that was rude. You're not crazy. At least, I don't think." She held up her hands, then closed the door, hiding away again.

The first thing she did was shove her wrist into her mouth and bite down. Her eyes screwed shut and she moaned clenching her fists tightly. Of course! That damn Pikachu! The first thing it had done was start sniffing at her pack. It was crazy to think, but somehow it knew! It knew about the only rule she dared to break and it was going to tell Ash! It would tell him and she'd be out on the streets and she'd die! She knew it, oh, even worse! They'd take them away and call her a defect and burn her along with the rest of the broken people.

She opened her bag then, breaths coming heavy and wild. Her hands were itching to take a pill, but she couldn't right then. She had to think clearly. Each pokeball was taken out with care: A psyduck, a corsola, a gyrados, a starmie, a staru and a politoad. She counted them, over and over just to be sure they were there, then stashed them under her mattress, whispering pleas to stay inside for a while and promising she'd let them out as soon as she could. Then she made her bed again, smoothing the sheets and fluffing the pillows before turning to the rest of the room.

It was cleaned quickly, everything tossed down and hidden before she took another deep breath and let him in. She was surprised at his reaction, rushing in the room and crashing on the bottom bunk, bouncing on the mattress a bit and sounding a bit disgruntled at the lack of springiness. He then prowled around the rest of the room, surveying his surroundings much like his Pikachu had until he had gone to every point in the room. Then he sat down a the computer, looked over his shoulder, and gave her his trademarked lopsided smile.

"Let's make my account."

"Who says you get one?" She retorted, strolling over. "Maybe we'll just have to share one. I don't appreciate being ordered around, Ashton. In fact, I absolutely hate it. You're lucky I don't just shut down the computer and leave you to suffer without an account. You'll have a hard time e-mailing papers if you can't type them up."

"I'll write them!" He retorted proudly.

"They won't take them unless your handwriting is very, very, neat. From what I've notice, loud people, especially loud boys, do not have neat handwriting." She knocked off a stack of notebooks and sat on the desk, the only chair being filled by Ash, and gave a tiny smirk. "So, Ashton, are you an exception to the rule? Do you have gorgeous handwriting that everyone can read? If not, you better be prepared for failure."

He glared up at her, rocking onto the back two legs of his chair. "The name's Ash, not Ashton. My mom named me Ash. It says so on my birth certificate."

She tapped her chin, pretending to think. "We could always make a deal, Ashton. You could do your best to stop ordering me around and I can try my best to stop calling you Ashton. If that deal's in place, there's no reason why I wouldn't be able to set up an account on the computer. You could even choose the color of your screen if I'm in a giving mood. What do you say, Ketchum? Will you take it or leave it?"

"I'll take it, but you're mean," Ash said, getting out of the chair and letting her take over. "So, Misty, I guess we're going to be stuck here for a while. Anything to tell me? Do you snore? Talk in your sleep? Have a boyfriend who sneaks over every night or something like that? I won't mind. I'm used to all three."

"Life partners are based on breeding potential and hand selected for compatibility by Team Rocket, you know that. I don't know if I snore or anything. I've never had a roommate before. I'm sure I'll do something. I hope it won't be too annoying." She shrugged. "Then again, I wouldn't mind having a room all too myself again. It's only been a few minutes and you're already annoying the hell out of me. Are you sure you don't want to do us both a favor and switch? Get a roommate who's used to people? Or, better, a roommate that's used to slightly crazy people." She slammed her hand on the desk, startling Pikachu into giving off a little spark. "I'm sorry, Ketchum. I'm not supposed to do that."

"It's fine," Ash grinned. "Besides, you just reminded me. What's your last name?"

"Don't have one," She retorted coolly. "I never have. I'm sure Earl told you the story. I came in all wild and crazy. They don't know where I came from, but I'm lucky they let me live here and they didn't leave me out to die. I'm grateful." She typed a few more keys and turned to him. "It's better to have a number than a name. It's better to be here than to be out there, dying like all those other people. I got lucky, terribly lucky, and I'm grateful every minute of every day. I don't have family; I don't have friends, but as long as I stay here I'll be taken care of. Hey, I might even get a job one day if I ever smarten up."

Ash shook his head, not understanding at all. "How could you say that? Wouldn't you rather have a family that loves you and cares for you and-"

"Can't feed me? A family that would need me to work in a factory, in some mindless post-war nightmare while I looked up at this big building every day and wondered: What if I was rich? What if I could have a better life? It's better this way. If I have a surviving family, they think I'm dead and can move on with one less mouth to feed. If they're dead, well, then it's definitely better to be in here and alone than out there with backstabbing city kids."

Ash chuckled, "Come on, city kids aren't all that bad. I'm a-"

"And the only things worse than a city kid are those Rebellion bastards," She snapped. "We've got it good here. It may not be perfect, but Team Rocket's trying to make it better! Everything's so organized, so perfect, even genetically they're fixing everything up! The weak die out and the strong produce, like science says it's supposed to be. People are put where they need to be, doing what they're best at. The useless are at the useless jobs and the smart control the useless. The system is perfect, and one of these days, when the smoke clears, it'll be sunny in Kanto again and Team Rocket will be at the head of it all."

Ash swallowed thickly. "I don't really get the Rebellion either. What's to fix? Team Rocket will take care of it."

"Your voice sounds strange," She told him, searching his eyes. "It's tight. You're nervous about something. What upset you? You don't believe in what I just said, I take it? Let me guess, one better! You're an undercover Rebellion agent sent here to gather information and take down the school and the entire organization." She snorted. "What a laugh. I'm sure if the Rebellion sent someone it'd be someone a little more intimidating than you. And the Rebellion sure as hell wouldn't be stupid enough to send then in the middle of the school year. That'd do nothing but raise suspicion about the kid. Plus, what kind of agent gets nauseous?"

Ash snorted. "Right. What kind? It wasn't what you said, really, it was how you said it. I've never really heard someone talk about something like that with…" He blew out. "Fire in their voice. It's crazy. It's pretty awesome to find someone who goes all out like that. Most of the kids here seem pretty goal oriented."

She growled under her breath. "Lost my fucking temper again." Misty reached into her pocket, frantically digging around until she pulled out a pill, swallowing it in a single gulp and dragging herself to her bed. "Feel free to screw with the computer. I've got firewalls and all sorts of things set up. You won't break it unless you take a bat to it. I'm going to sleep. We'll see how it all goes in the morning, alright?"

"Wait!" He said suddenly. "I, uh, mean, don't you want to stay up or something? It's early. It's…it'd not even five you can't go to bed, can you? We can talk or you can show me how to play a game on the computer. I still don't know a lot about here, and you said you've been here for years so you can show me, can't you?" He grinned, eyes big and hopeful, looking as excited as a kid in a candy store. He didn't look sly or controlling, just looking like he wanted to spend time with her, to not be alone.

She turned her back on him and sighed. "Ash, I'm not sleeping. I took a pill, and that should keep me calm until it's time to go to sleep. There's no games on there, Ash, the only games are the ones downstairs, and those are mostly simulators or only for one person. Besides, maybe you should socialize. Talk to other people. They'll give you help if you ask and maybe you'll find someone to be in a study group with."

He looked at Pikachu with despair, hoping that she would somehow help get Misty out of bed, but she only gave him a passing glance before resuming her adventure around the room, sniffing and scuttling to figure out the strange scents. She must have smelled something, because she certainly hadn't been this interested in anything before.

"Hey, Misty. Do you have anything in your room? Food? Apples? Ketchup?" He asked, walking closer. "Misty?"

She didn't respond, eyes half closed as she looked at the wall.

If she wasn't drugged up, she probably would have been wondering why his Pikachu wasn't in a pokeball, like most pokémon were supposed to be. She would have been wondering why the boy didn't have the proper accent, or how holes were popping up in his story in every direction. She also would have wondered why he was so out of sync with the school, especially since Pewter was just a hop, skip and a jump away. Then, there was the instinctual vibe she got from him: something vibrating and making her heart grip a bit with terror, telling her something was just a little too different with him to possibly be safe.

But she was drugged up. Misty was relaxed and calmed with her pills and her warm, hard bed that she had been sleeping in for the past thirteen years.

On top of that, Misty was undeniably stupid. She knew it, and she knew she couldn't change it. She would never be believed, and couldn't be believed. So, even if any of these thoughts had run through her drug addled mind, she would have denied them. As possibly the only one in the school with a fresh enough mind and a close enough relationship to figure out Ash Ketchum was a round peg in a square hole, she denied the possibility of her suspicions being correct and thus aided him immensely on his quest.

So, for the first time in her life, number 1163169F was exactly what Team Rocket made her out to be: stupid.