A/N – This song is so good I'm giving this chapter two quotes. Enjoy!
"I am finding out that maybe I was wrong…" – My Heart, Paramore
All We Know Is Falling
d i n o b o t
Chapter 7 – My Heart
A large door. A long exhale. Her steamy breath disappeared into the cold. She entered.
"Here goes nothing."
He sat by himself, staring at his shoes knocking together. He bent forward slightly and locked his fingers.
Ash didn't like being alone. Every time he shuffled, sniffed or coughed, the sounds echoed off the walls just as lonesome. He never realized how uncomfortable it felt before. But the more he thought about it the more he realized who was to blame. He was.
"I should have known you'd be here," a new echo reached him.
"Huh?"
A taller man with spiky hair entered the training room and craned his neck. "What are you doing up there?"
"Nothing," he responded with a pop of his shoulders, "just thinking."
"Mind if I join you?"
The younger boy agreed silently. Brock walked to the wall, grabbed the knotted ropes and climbed twenty feet to his companion.
"Wow, it's been a long time since I've done that," Brock admitted, taking his seat next to Ash. He sat back and let his legs dangle off the edge. The Rock trainer stole a quick glance of his friend busy twiddling with his thumbs.
"So," he began after a long pause. "I've been looking all over for you, Ash."
"What for?"
"To check up on you, I guess. How are you doing?"
Ash's tone remained as low as possible. "Why would I need to be checked on? I'm fine."
"Well, it's been two days since the Team Rocket incident. Everyone's still kinda getting over it. None of us knew what Gary was really involved in. It took everyone by surprise. You're his closest friend."
"Was his closest friend," Ash finished.
Brock nodded. "You know, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing. How could someone so good stoop so low?"
"Maybe," Ash paused and unearthed the rest. "Deep down under all the rage and hatred he was really lonely and just wanted a friend."
"I guess," Brock murmured, unconvinced.
"Where's Gary now?"
"He was transferred to Saffron City's high security prison yesterday. His trial is scheduled in a few weeks."
Ash did not acknowledge his answer; he just sat there noticeably silent. Brock was about to continue but noticed his quiet demeanor. He took the initiative and changed the subject.
"I think I owe you an apology, Ash."
"For what?" he turned.
"Do you remember the last time we were in this training room together?"
"I remember you saying I would never be a great agent," Ash grunted with a shade of resentment.
"I told you that you lacked balance; that you needed to spend time doing other things rather than invest all your energy in work and training."
"I remember."
"Well, I was wrong. Because of your relentless training and dedication to your job, you managed to defeat Gary and end Team Rocket's hold on Kanto."
Brock's praise did not move the agent's disposition. He spoke only when needed. The older boy resumed. "You saved the day, Ash. Because of your bravery and courage you saved the day. You're a hero."
Ash shook his head. There was that word again.
"It's the reason why you're being honored later today," Brock continued.
"Big deal," Ash grumbled sarcastically. When Lance gave him the "good news" yesterday all he could manage was a cheap smile and something that barely qualified as gratitude. Maybe that was the source of his emptiness.
Brock narrowed his eyes to his indifference. He stared deep into his countenance, trying to decipher his bizarre behavior. No use. Understanding Ash Ketchum border lined on the impossible.
"It is a big deal, Ash," Brock said raising his voice. "Only Elite Four members have been given the Indigo Metal of Honor. You're going to be the first person not on the council to get it."
Ash's expression did not waver.
Brock's patience thinned. "What's wrong with you, Ash?"
"I don't think I deserve it." Finally, a meaningful sentence out of him. "Why isn't Misty getting one?"
"Misty?" Brock repeated. "She was recognized for her efforts already, remember? Lance gave her a ribbon and some grant money. I think Lorelei even offered her some private Water Pokémon training lessons. You know how much Misty idolizes her. What more could we have done?"
He shrugged softly with no words attached.
"Is that what's bothering you? Misty?"
"Brock," the boy began, forgetting to answer his question. "Misty was the reason I was able to take Team Rocket down in the first place. I couldn't have done it without her."
"What do you mean? I thought you and Paul organized the counter attack."
"I'm not talking about that. Misty believed in me when no one else did. She gave me the strength when I needed it the most."
"That sounds like Misty," Brock nodded. "She's always cared about her friends, you know that, Ash."
"I know—but it was like old times. It was just like when we were younger, Brock! We battled, helped each other, we even argued." For a moment Ash was ten years old again, reliving memories of foreign regions and mysterious Pokémon. They were children, without a care in the world, under the countless stars with their determination to guide them. He was never alone then; he always had his friends to rely on. Ash smiled; something he hadn't done in a long time.
"I heard you two were quite the tandem back there," Brock chuckled.
"You know, I think traveling with you guys was the best years of my life," Ash said, still stuck in his gentle musings.
"I miss it too," Brock agreed.
"I get this really weird feeling whenever I think about her."
"Really!?" Brock gasped. "What kind of feeling, Ash?" His interest almost landed on the dangerous side.
"I don't know." Ash rubbed the back of his head, trying to sift through his words. "But I think about her all time, even when I don't want to. It gets really hard to breathe and I can't think straight." He turned to Brock. "You probably don't understand a word I'm saying, huh?"
His words incited a laugh. Brock tried to restrain a much larger smile currently occupying his face. At least he knew what was wrong with him now.
"Actually, Ash—I know exactly what you're talking about."
"Really?"
Brock broke into a low chuckle that gradually formed into full-on laughter. He shook his head and tried to regain his composure.
"What? What's so funny?" the boy demanded.
"I have a confession to make, Ash," Brock managed to say after a few lingering laughs. "The real reason I'm here is because Lance asked me to make sure you were coming to the ceremony later today."
"Oh," Ash trailed off.
"You can't blame him. Getting you to show up at League events isn't exactly your strong suit. It's nearly impossible."
Ash nodded; he had to agree.
"I'll be completely honest with you, Ash. You've disappointed the league a lot. Hell, you've disappointed me too. You skip agent meetings and flake out on official league functions. Whenever I call you out on it, you always give me some lame excuse about forgetting or training."
"What's your point?" Ash asked slightly irked. He wasn't too thrilled about listening to a list of all his faults.
Brock grabbed one of the hanging ropes below and slid down. The older boy reached the ground and walked toward the exit.
"My point is," he paused. "I wouldn't be disappointed if you didn't show up for the ceremony—if it was for Misty."
Ash didn't say a word. What could he say to that?
Brock stopped in the threshold, freezing the automatic doors open.
"Go find her, Ash. Tell her everything you told me." One step forward, the doors shut and he was gone, leaving Ash alone again.
Ash breathed in, looked down with eyes of uncertainty and continued staring at his shoes.
Lance scanned the massive auditorium filled to capacity. Every seat was taken; a few even had to stand in the back. The sounds of chattering voices and inaudible conversations filled the air. The Dragon Master leaned forward and peeked at his company. Bruno and Lorelei were to his left. Brock and Agatha sat on his right. In front of him was a tall podium, waiting to be taken.
He rose, and immediately the indistinct voices silenced. His footsteps could be heard through the room as he approached the stand and tapped on the microphone. A brief squeal of feedback introduced him. All eyes, ears and lights focused in him.
The Master cleared his throat before speaking. "Good afternoon." His commanding voice sent a shiver down everyone's spine.
"I'd like to thank everyone for coming to this ceremony. We're here for a very special reason and I'm glad you all can share it with us." Lance looked down to his notes. The formalities were out of the way. Now for the hard part.
"Something happened to me a few days ago; something that I'm willing to share with you now." He paused in between. "As you well know, two days ago the Indigo Plateau was infiltrated by Team Rocket. We fell in a matter of hours, and for a brief period Kanto was at the mercy of terrorists."
A few grumbles aspersed through the audience.
Lance continued. "But in our darkest hour I saw the light. I realized the Pokémon League was partly responsible for what happened. Gary Oak was a good man." Emphasis on the 'was.' "But we put too much pressure on researchers like him and his grandfather—on all of you. We were too busy looking to build our defenses; we failed to consider those who fight for us every single day."
He hesitated again. "Because of that, I am sorry."
Low whispers were heard. An apology by the council, especially from the proud Dragon Master was unprecedented. Lance took another glance at the other members of the Elite Four and Brock. The Rock trainer urged him to continue.
"If this experience has taught us anything, it's the ever pressing need for change. The council and department heads have talked in depth. Things are going to be different now. We're planning on implementing different protocols and structures so something like this never happens again. We want to let you know, from the bottom of our hearts, that we appreciate everything you do for us. Your sacrifices will not go unnoticed. If you let us, together we will build a much better, much stronger Pokémon League!"
The audience applauded. Lance let it go on for a minute before raising his hands to temper the crowds' enthusiasm. They slowly obeyed and became silent again.
"But I wouldn't be standing here today if it wasn't for a very special young man," Lance smiled. "This agent has shown a pattern of inconsistency, dissension and tardiness…" a low chuckled permeated through the assembly. "But despite his many faults, he has proven to be an extremely capable agent. He passed basic and advanced training faster than anyone in League history. He wins the annual martial arts and Pokémon battling tournament every year—he is a Pokémon Master, after all."
Lance laughed to himself before continuing. "This young man's courage through this catastrophe was unparalleled. He showed incredible strength, bravery and intuition—and we owe him our lives. I owe him my life."
The commotion steadily grew; all they needed was his name as the catalyst.
"Today we honor him with the highest award possible: The Indigo Metal of Honor. This marks the first time a non member of the Elite Four has attained it, but I can't think of anyone more deserving than him." The rumbles grew louder.
"So, without further ado, ladies and gentleman—" Lance extended his arm to his right, "…I give you Ash Ketchum!"
The audience broke into a standing ovation; screams, whistles and hollers peppered throughout the thunderous applause. The spotlight shifted from Lance and pointed toward the left curtain of the stage, every head turning in anticipation. Just one glimpse of him and the crowd would tear the place apart.
A few seconds went by; then a few more. Nothing.
The ovation slowly waned. Lance laughed nervously and played with his collar.
"Uh—Ash Ketchum, everyone," he tried again, last syllable echoing.
Thousands of eyes glued to the spotlight waiting for a face, a stray movement—something! Lance covered the microphone and looked behind him.
"Where is he?!" he snapped. The rest of the Elite Four shared in his confusion.
"Brock," Agatha leaned and whispered in Brock's ear. "He was backstage, wasn't he?"
The Rock trainer nodded in response. Agatha gave Lance another puzzled look.
The room buzzed with whispers. "Where is he?" "I heard he didn't even know about it." "Someone check the training room."
Everyone in the room was restless—expect for one. Brock folded his arms and sat quietly, un-bothered by the tumultuous crowd. How could he be fazed with such a giant smile on his face? The spiky haired agent shook his head and started to laugh.
"Go get her, Ash," he chuckled. "Go get her…"
"May I take your coat, miss?"
The black overcoat slid off her bare shoulders and she handed it to the doorman. She held in her breathe and released fluidly before entering the main hall.
Her entrance rippled through the entire room, like tossing a pebble in a still pond. Their attention was captured by the beautiful red head gliding across the floor. Every head turned: man, woman, waiter, even the violinists stumbled on a few notes. She severed the dance floor in half; the couples parted allowing her across.
She was breathtaking. The dark sapphire dress fit perfectly to her slender form. A thin silver necklace haloed her neckline. Long white gloves ran up her forearms. Her fire-lit hair was held up in an elegant design, outshining the twinkling chandeliers suspended below the ceiling.
The young woman floated evenly to the bar and outlined the mahogany counter top with her index finger. The barkeep was completely transfixed, forgetting about the drink he was making. Perfectly applied makeup was contrasted by smooth cherry lips. She moved a stray bang from her soft milky skin and tucked it behind her ear.
"Uh—what'll it be?" he asked after a nervous gulp.
She looked at him through long eyelashes and licked her alluring lips damp before speaking.
"Blue lagoon." The words sounded sweeter than the drink.
For a moment, he forgot what a cocktail was but then scrambled for the appropriate ingredients. Ice, vodka, Blue Curacao and lemonade garnished with a lemon slice. He dropped a straw in the tall glass and slid it over.
She held the tiny straw between her teeth and sipped the sparkling blue liquid. Releasing a satisfied moan, she took a twenty from her "pocket," placed it on the counter and slid it over with her index finger.
"Keep the change." An alluring smile stripped the courage of every guy at the bar. Suddenly, intoxicating liquor found its competition. She took the glass with the tips of her fingers and disappeared back into the crowd.
Water.
The water refreshed her and made her whole, as it always did. It enveloped every inch of Misty's body; unbearably cold at first, but she eventually adapted to the temperature. She moved fluidly as if running on dry land. Her body twirled effortlessly in the clear blue liquid, only resurfacing for air. She dipped in again, swimming lap after lap in the giant Olympic sized pool. She neared the end of her final circuit, lungs begging to be used.
The orange haired swimmer broke through the surface, inhaling as much life as she could. The heaviness disappeared from her chest as she rested her elbows on the outer edge of the pool. She looked up and almost bumped noses with…
"ASH?!" some water splashed on him. "What are you doing here?!"
His new tux was ruined now, but that didn't seem to bother him. Catching Misty off-guard incited a smile.
"Here," he extended his hand, ignoring her question. He lifted her up just enough so she could gain her balance. Misty rose from the water and planted her bare feet on the cement. She stood shivering, wavy wet locks sticking to her cheeks and skin; body glistening in the light, standing over a collecting pool of water.
"What are you doing here?" her breathing still heavy.
He dodged her question a second time. Ash smirked sheepishly and grabbed Misty's waterproof overcoat hanging on a nearby bench, and tossed it to her without breaking his smile. She caught it in mid-air and slipped it on.
But her curiosity would not go unsatisfied. She looked him up and down. Why was he dressed so formal? "Ash, shouldn't you be at the League right now?"
"I think they can handle things without me or a bit," he laughed. His demeanor was intriguing. It was something she couldn't quite put a label on.
She stepped closer, closing the gap between them. "Ash—why are you here?" she asked once more. The boy rubbed the back of his head, a nervous habit he attained from youth. He couldn't evade her a third time. She wouldn't let him.
His response sputtered like a dying engine. "I—uh, came to apol—thank you. No! Apologize! I mean, to thank you!"
Misty wrinkled her forehead. "So, which is it, genius?"
Ash looked away from her stare. It was always easier to talk to her without looking directly at her. He exhaled in preparation.
"I'm sorry, Misty."
"Sorry for what?"
"I'm sorry for the way the league treated you. You helped save the day and the only thing you got was a silly ribbon and some grant money."
"Oh," Misty whispered, as if expecting so much more. "It's fine, Ash. I like the ribbon they gave me. It's blue. Besides, I got some other things too."
"I just think—you deserve so much more."
"Really?" her face restrained a much stronger blush. "Thanks."
Ash quickly moved on. "I should thank you too."
"What for?"
"For helping me when I needed it the most. I couldn't have done it without you."
"Of course not," Misty playfully smacked him on the shoulder. "You're helpless without me, Ash. Everyone knows that." They shared an adjoining smirk.
Their banter however, did not fill the air indefinitely. An awkward pause floated unevenly between them, begging to be broken. Ash opened his mouth ready to speak, but lost his courage and shut it firmly.
"Is that it?"
Ash could not say a word. Of course there was more! There was more; so much more! But his mind was blank and his tongue mute. He was paralyzed.
Same ole' Ash. "Well, I'm hungry—I'm ordering a pizza," Misty walked past him and aimed for the swinging doors. "Want some?"
"Misty," his back still faced her. She turned at the mention of her name, hand against one of the doors.
His voice remained serious, as low as possible. "Why do you think you're not important to me?"
"W-what? What do you mean?"
He did not answer her question. Ash finally faced the red head, and stepped noticeably closer. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small piece of paper. It rested in the middle of his hand, waiting to be taken.
Misty's fingers froze over his outstretched palm. She finally took and unfolded the note. She gasped slightly and almost dropped it on the ground.
"Where did you get this?" she stared at it again, reading every word carefully.
---
Ash,
It's clear you've accomplished all your dreams. I just wish I was a part of it.
- Misty
---
She could here his voice reciting the words as she scanned them again. The paper was worn from use, the ink already starting to fade. He knew them well.
"Where did you get this?" she asked again, bringing the paper at eye's length.
"I found it," he paused; "at the League function in Vermillion City."
"I thought you told me you didn't go," her irritation grew.
"Well, I came late."
Her surprise melted to anger. She crunched the paper in her hand. "You mean you lied to me?!!"
"No, I—"
She didn't permit a response. An assault of accusations ensued. "I can't believe you, Ash Ketchum! We've been side by side for five days and you're just bringing this up now!?"
"Misty, you don't understand!"
"I understand perfectly! YOU LIED! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!"
Ash threw his hands in the air; the slender girl inches away in all her fury. He tried to take a few steps back but she erased the gap immediately. He retreated again, but his heels teetered at the edge of the pool. His arms circled backward to gather stability. Ash gulped nervously, realizing there was nothing stopping her from shoving him into the water.
"STOP!" he grabbed her arms to quell her onslaught. It worked surprisingly; the sudden outburst caught the Gym Leader off-guard. Ash pried the letter out of her pale fingers and ripped it to pieces. He tossed it in the air like confetti, dancing between their interlocking stare, some sticking to their clothes.
"I don't care about that!" he gasped. "I just want to know what it meant!" In an instant, he robbed the power away from her. Prying into the deep recesses of Misty's soul put her on the defense. Now she was moving backward. Her feelings were a locked box; hardly opened.
"Ash, don't—" she pleaded softly. It was a conversation they never once attempted. Even though she thought about it a thousand times, reality however has a way of unraveling courage. He waited. The silence filled their conversation, neither refused to break eye contact. The pressure in Misty's chest tightened. She took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. "Ash, I realize I'm not the most important thing in your life. You have better things to worry about than me."
"Why would that bother you?"
"Because," she stopped to gain her strength; "because I care about you, Ash. More than I've ever cared about anyone."
"How long have you felt this way?" his voice lost strength, just above a whisper.
Misty rubbed her arms for warmth before continuing. "I'm not the best confronter of feelings, but I've felt this way for a long time," she admitted, looking into his auburn eyes. "I have feelings for you, Ash. Maybe, I even love you." The strength started to drain from Misty's legs as if it took every bit of power to say the words. "How do you feel about me?" the shakiness in her voice was evident.
"I don't really know," he confessed. "I've never really considered that part of my life before." Ash shuffled to the nearby bench and sat down. "I've dedicated my life to my career for so long, I haven't had time for anything else." A brief chuckle escaped his lips. Now he knew the meaning of her letter.
Misty thinned her lips and lowered her head; his words almost crushing her.
But he continued on, staring into the now motionless pool. "But I can't imagine my life without you, Misty. I think about you all the time, even when I don't want to."
A growing hue of crimson overwhelmed her pale complexion. "Ash, have you ever thought about being more than friends?" She immediately regretted the question as soon as it left her lips.
"Yes."
"Really?" Maybe there was hope for them after all.
"But every time I do, I get scared—really scared."
"Scared of what?"
He was facing her now, eyes glazed in a soft look of vulnerability. "I'm scared I might lose you. I couldn't stand that, Misty. You're my best friend." The boy abruptly stood up, causing her to jump slightly. "Gosh, why is this so hard!?" he groaned and harrowed the stubborn clumps of his hair.
"I know," Misty paralleled his discouragement.
"We're too scared to try but it's too awkward just being friends! What's wrong with us?! We're not good at any of this!"
Romance, relationships, love—it was all uncharted territory. A bleak silence allowed some time, time to think.
"I know what we're good at," Misty finally interrupted, a smile bolstering her face.
"What?"
"Do you have your Pokeball's will you?" she rose and matched his level.
"Of course I do," his hand pushed back the lower half of his suit jacket, revealing six spheres attached to his belt. "Why?"
"Take the challengers box, Ash," she ordered, walking to the opposite end of the pool. "Let's do this."
"Wait. You wanna battle for this?" he asked, eyebrows high as humanly possible. "We can't battle for something like this?"
Misty gave him a cocky wink. "What's wrong...afraid you might lose?"
Now that's going too far. "Please—you're talking to the current Pokémon Master. I'm not afraid of anything!"
Misty's smile grew. Now that's more like it. She outlined the terms. They were in her Gym, after all. "One-on-one battle. No time limit."
"You're funeral," Ash shot back.
The Leader of the Cerulean Gym unhooked one of her Pokéballs and tossed it in the air. It glided to one of the floating platforms and released her chosen Pokémon.
"Psy?" the golden duck tilted his head.
"Psyduck?! Oh, Misty you're making this way too easy," he scoffed.
"Don't count out Psyduck yet, Ash," she retorted. "You've seen what he can do before. Now you're going to see why Team Rocket wanted him so badly!"
"I've got the perfect Pokémon in mind for this battle arena." With a quick flick of his wrist, the ball sailed to the opposing platform and released his choice.
"Toto! Toto! Toto!" the small crocodile energetically danced on one foot.
"Totodile!" Misty exclaimed, her heart starting to melt.
"Water Pokémon vs. Water Pokémon in a water battle field! This should be interesting."
"You know, I still think I caught that Totodile in the first place!"
"Who cares, I beat you fair and square for it, just like I'm going to beat you now, Misty!" he smiled confidently. Totodile continued dancing happily on the platform.
"I'm ready whenever you are, Ash."
A sudden realization dawned on him. "Uh, Misty—what side are we fighting for?"
"We'll figure that out later," she waved him off. Giving Ash a beat down was more important than small formalities. Misty grinned and leaned forward slightly.
"Ladies first, Ash."
The Pokémon Master growled slightly and pointed to his Pokémon.
"Totodile, Water Gun!"
"Psyduck, use your Water Gun too!" she quickly yelled.
The Pokémon threw their heads back, both releasing a large beam of water. The two water attacks met in the middle, neither force advancing. The Water Guns finally broke in a draw.
Ash furrowed his brow. This wasn't the Psyduck he remembered. "Totodile, use your Slash!"
"Dive underwater!"
The band started playing again—a string rendition of Chopin's Nocturne No. 19 in E Minor. Slow, haunting music settled over the room; couples dropped hands and separated but did not vacate the floor. The mesh of black suits and sparkling dresses rooted in their place.
She outlined the edge of the crowd, slowly at the pace of the music. She scanned the rocky terrain of tall and short gentlemen with their painted escorts, examining each face individually. Nothing.
The music morphed to something danceable. Couples took hands again and resumed their waltz. Her search continued, but this time with promise. He saw him, or at least she thought she did. She briefly caught sight of a young man with light copper skin and wild black hair at the far end of the dance floor. Then, like magic, he disappeared behind an adjoined body of a waltzing couple.
No, she couldn't lose him! Immediately, she jerked her head to the side to regain him. But a flurry of partners still blocked her vision, and mere impatience would not hasten the tempo. The moving bodies began to stagger and she narrowed her eyes to thin blue slits. Nothing—he was gone. Maybe he was never there. The lingering string and brass instruments made her sigh useless and forgotten.
The music finished its crescendo the same time she did. Her search became something less than frantic, and with a single bat of her eye lashes, moved on.
Her cerulean irises grazed the skin of those on the side. A tall boisterous man laughed in the corner, a martini in one hand a half smoked cigar in the other. To his left was a noticeably shorter woman; a plum dress to compliment her hair. The woman giggled to her companion's well timed joke and cooled herself with a paper fan.
Adjacent to them stood a rather stout gentleman, tuxedo clad, fingers wrapped around a tall glass of clear liquid. He partook every few seconds as he talked with his partner. Their words low and inaudible, a low chuckle or casual smirk peppered the conversation.
Passing them was a skinny waiter, holding up a tray of hors d'oeuvres. The man weaved his way passed the guests, the plate becoming lighter and lighter.
"Excuse me," she passed through an unimportant conversation belonging to two equally unimportant faces. She increased her steps toward the tables, stopping only for a passing couple or a waiter making rounds.
The maître d', a rather skinny man, was smacked silly merely by her presence. She giggled quietly and moved a strand of hair tickling her forehead. The man checked his clipboard for her name -there it was- and showed her to her table, on the outskirts of the others.
She graced him with a silent 'thank you' and took her seat; the only one at the table. Her index finger outlined the clear lip of her half empty glass. A few minutes went by, then a few agonizing more. A subtle trace of regret added to her loneliness. That is, until…
"Hello, miss."
"Hi," she giggled with a genuine smile. His voice was familiar and calm.
"May I have this dance?" he bent forward and extended his hand.
"Sure."
Together they stepped slowly, hand on hand to the dance floor, splitting the crowd as they did. They stopped in the middle of the hall. She took his left hand and shoulder; he took her right hand and waist.
The two spun majestically to the graceful music, drawing the attention of the bystanders. She twirled, and allowed him to guide her all the way back to his warm embrace. She could not hide a smile. For the first time tonight, she was actually enjoying herself.
"Psyduck, hang in there!" Misty shouted. Psyduck closed its eyes; the immense pressure was starting to take its toll.
"Keep it up, Totodile! We've almost got her!" Ash encouraged. The large jawed Pokémon clamped harder on Psyduck's head. At the command of his master he tried everything not to let go.
Psyduck's whine grew louder.
"Come on, Come on," Misty said under her breath.
"PSY!!!" a large blast of purple energy consumed the two Pokémon and exploded. The power shook the Gym. Ash and Misty yelled as the water splashed back. A little drizzle concluded the battle, along with a heavy cloud of smoke drifting high in the air.
"Totodile!"
"Psyduck!"
They both dove in the water and swam to their unconscious Pokémon. Misty, being the faster swimmer, flew through the water effortlessly and grabbed Psyduck. She aimed toward the surface and placed Psyduck on the middle of the floating pad just as Ash resurfaced with his Totodile. Both had fainted.
Ash wiped his damp face with a drenched sleeve. The two recalled their Pokémon silently and sat together attempting to catch their breath. A gentle pool tediously formed around them.
"Is Psyduck okay?" Ash coughed.
Misty nodded. "He'll be fine. How's Totodile?"
"He's gone through worse," Ash's breathing finally normalized. "A good night's rest should be all he needs."
"Good."
They sat in silence. Ash looked around, then at her, trying to gather his bearings. But she stole the first word from him.
"I can't believe this," Misty mumbled.
"What?"
"I can't believe the battle ended in a tie!"
"I know," Ash lowered his eyes. "I really wish that would've figured out our relationship for us."
"No, not that!" she sneered. "I can't believe I didn't beat you! I was so close!" Misty fell backward, now facing the glass ceiling. Her eyes disappeared beneath her soaked hair.
Ash blinked. After a short pause a smile crept across his face. He joined her lying on the floating pad.
"So," he paused long enough to make sure she was paying attention. "What do we do now?"
"No idea," she muttered, truthfully.
"I guess—I could continue working for the League."
"And I could just continue being a Gym Leader," she finished his thought. They glanced at each other at the same time, but snapped back when their eyes locked. They weren't good at this kind of thing. Talking didn't help. Battling didn't help. What was left?
Ash turned to is side, cradling his head against his fist. Misty's eyes still locked on the glassy sky, lost in thought.
He cleared his throat, "I have an idea." When she didn't say a word he continued. "There's another League function in Viridian City in a week."
"So…"
"I was thinking we could, you know, go together."
"You mean a date?"
"I mean, just go together." He made sure of the distinction.
"Forget it."
"But—"
"Why would I go, huh? Just so you could stand me up again?! Hell no!"
"I didn't stand you up! I told you, I didn't know you were going!"
"Well it won't happen! Not on your life!" She rose and stomped to the furthest edge of the platform. Ash matched her height, nonplused and uncertain.
"Mis…" but the confidence drained from his voice when he started. Her back was still facing him, refusing everything.
"Will you just look at me?!"
Not a thing.
She felt him reach for her and settle a hand on her arm. Something like electric shocks surged through her whole body as his fingers grazed her skin.
"Misty? Please?"
There was something extraordinary in his voice. Maybe it was the gentle way he said her name or the fact he asked her nicely for once. Regardless, there was no use fighting it. She hated how he could control her so effortlessly. Stupid, Ash.
Blue eyes matched much shinier brown ones.
"I'm sorry I've been, uh…"
"A Jerk," she said remarkably calm.
"Yeah, that. But I'm willing to make up for it.
"You broke my heart, Ash. There's nothing you can do to fix it."
"Well, will you at least let me try?"
And there it was: Ash Ketchum, showing his hand, laying all his cards on the table. Finally candid, sincere and looking cute as hell. And all she wanted to do was wipe those stupid puppy-Growlithe eyes off his face.
"Fine."
Ash leaned closer, not sure if she heard her right.
"I said 'fine,'" she said again, noticeably louder.
"Good," he whispered and smiled delicately. "Eight-o-clock. The Viridian Plaza. I'll be there."
"You better!" and with a violent shove, he was gone, into the water. The splash didn't touch her and she waited until his head poked up from the surface.
"Come on, dummy," she knelt down. "Let's get some food."
"You're late," she said through her smile.
"I'm late? You're early!" his eyes widened. "I told you seven!"
"No you didn't," Misty replied half in laugh. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."
Seemingly on cue, the music changed to something slow.
"Good," Ash barred his teeth and dropped his hands to her waist. Her hands slid up his shoulders and around his neck, fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head. They fell through her fingers.
"You know, for a second I didn't think you'd show."
"Yeah, me either," Ash admitted. "It took everything I had to convince Pikachu he couldn't come. He really wanted to go to the last one. That reminds me!" he lightly tapped his head. They stopped dancing and he reached into his jacket pocket. He fished out a small piece of paper. Misty's eyes followed it's every moment as it stopped between them.
"Here," he said. "Take it."
"What is it?"
"It's my answer. I figure you wrote me a note the last time."
It was only folded once. She plucked it out of his palm and read it. She lost the strength in her fingers and it seesawed to the wooden floor. With tears on the verge of breaking, Misty buried her face into his chest. He held her close.
"I love you too, Ash," she softly whispered.
She looked up and connected with his eyes. Their faces inched closer, tilting slightly. They closed their eyes, slowly closing the gap between them. Just one more inch and…
"ASH KETCHUM, TO THE STAGE PLEASE!"
"Damn it!" Ash bent his head backward. "Gimme a break!"
His reaction made her giggle. Ash turned back to Misty; she could see the battle raging within him. He didn't want to go.
"It's okay," Misty whispered. "Go. I'll be here when you get back."
Ash nodded with a boyish smirk and ran to the stage. He jumped over the steps and joined Brock standing in the middle of the stage holding two glasses of champaign. The rock trainer handed him one.
"Gosh, Brock—you're timings perfect!" Ash swiped it from him, almost spilling half.
Brock chuckled. "Sorry, buddy. But its time to hear that speech you promised us. Wow us, Ash!" He graciously stepped out of the limelight, leaving Ash alone. All eyes landed on him. He gulped and loosened the top button of his dress shirt. The glass shook in his hand.
"Uh—" he echoed in the microphone. The agent scanned into the sea of bodies, ready to be blown away. Guess he should have actually prepared a speech. They would soon find out. Ash let out a deep sigh. "Thank you all for coming. It really means a lot to the Region, the League—and to me." He fumbled through the next sentence and ultimately gave up with another sigh.
In the whole audience of unfamiliar faces and anonymous bodies—he found Misty standing alone, with no glass, looking angelically beautiful. She was the most important person in the world to him. He linked his eyes with hers and for the moment, he could see only her.
"I know I haven't been the easiest person to get along with. Hell, I usually end up saying the wrong thing or messing everything up," he paused. "I've been a disappointment over the years, I know that. Up until now I've let other things get in the way of what's important. I want—I need things to be different."
A single tear decorated her face.
His voice quivered but nonetheless, pressed on. "People say I inspire so much good, that I bring out the best in people. But it couldn't be more of the opposite. You give me the strength and the courage so I can keep going. It's because of you I'm a hero."
A deep breath. "I don't know what will happen to us tomorrow or what the future might bring; but I want you to know no matter what happens—I'll always be there for you. Always."
The audience roared and applauded. Ash raised his glass, followed by everyone else and took a sip. He wiped a stray line with his sleeve and grabbed the microphone. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's something I must do!"
He flew off the platform and ran, slicing the crowd as he went. He stopped a few inches from her and took her by the waist. Misty closed her eyes as he leaned in. The space between them disappeared as their lips finally met. He came in too fast, bumped her teeth and released before she could finish. Ash smirked sheepishly, still inches away.
"You kiss like a sissy, Ash!" she grabbed his head and pulled it against her lips. He was ridged at first but eventually found their rhythm. He pulled her body flush against his as she snaked her hands through his hair.
They released to the surrounding applause of the entire League. Finally, their boy had found happiness. The deafening cheers filled the ball room. Misty couldn't hear a thing. She laughed as her eyes made their way to the wonderful boy she just kissed.
He said something to her, but because of the noise she couldn't hear what it was. Misty looked closer and focused on his lips, wishing to be part of them again. He mouthed the words again. Three words, three syllables followed by her name. Oh, how she loved when he said her name! Even though it wasn't heard, she knew what it was. She didn't have to hear it or read it anymore. She knew how he felt, in her heart.
They embraced again. Misty rested her head on his chest and listened to the slow lullaby of Ash Ketchum's heart—the best sound in the world. In an instant, all of Ash and Misty's childhood fears, painful memories and inhibitions melted away. All they knew had fallen, and for once—they loved every second of it.
END
"This heart it beats, beats for only you…" – My Heart, Paramore
A/N – Okay, so in case you didn't realize it already, the breaks in the story were actually flash-forwards instead of flashbacks. I couldn't exactly have big bold letters telling you where you were, that would've ruined the tone.
I'm going to post a bonus chapter of all the flashbacks in chronological order. It might be kinda cool reading the story linearly. Also, if you have any questions for me or the story in general, feel free to ask them in your review and I'll include it in the author's notes. Let me know. Anyway, thank you to all who read and reviewed. You're awesome! This story is dedicated to Ash and Misty, Hayley and all you Pokeshippers out there! Bye for now.
