Pokémon: The Final Journey
Chapter Nine
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon or any of its affiliations, unfortunately.
Narrator: Welcome back to the final journey! We left off with our heroes having a bit of sick fun and curious games. What will Ash and Pikachu discover in Misty's room? Will they get out of there before its too late?
PIKACHU
I had a feeling that the scene unfolding before me was about to get ugly. I wish I would have just stayed down stairs, but I liked Ash's room. It was full of things that filled his life before we became brothers, and that intrigued me. I had gone up hoping he was there, but instead I found him in a place I knew he shouldn't be. We can fix this. It's not too late, I had told myself. Just get in and get out, like ninjas. However, I still found myself wishing I had stayed downstairs when I heard her footsteps coming down the hallway…
Sorry, I'm getting a bit ahead of myself. Let me back up some…
I had been dozing on the living room sofa while the end credits to some human movie were running on the television screen, thinking about my early life. I grew up in the forests surrounding pallet, you know?
I don't remember much of my time as a young Pikachu but I do remember a few things, and returning to Ash's home always seemed to bring them to mind.
My first memory is of the wilds was a terrifying experience- it was a place where pokémon lived in fear humans and the uncertainty that came with their strange ways. It was a place where we resented our own kind for choosing that path.
I recall being with my family, we were moving through the woods like usual, when suddenly a young human, maybe eight or nine years old, brown messy hair, came running into the forest crying. Everyone scattered. No human ever ventured into the woods around the area, but I stayed and watched as he trudged a few more meters and then stopped, falling to his knees.
"Poor little human," I whispered to myself. Inching closer as the boy sobbed. I couldn't understand why all the other pokémon had insisted on running away. Clearly this boy was harmless. I had thought that we were too quick to judge humans, and this kid was proving it. I was a young Pikachu, myself. I knew what it meant to be sad and fearful.
When I walked out from behind the tall grass, there were no other pokémon nearby. I looked at the boy, he had his head in his knees and he still sobbed. I inched closer. I didn't know what to do so I figured I'd just start with a hello, "Pika." I greeted him. The boy paused and looked up, baffled.
"Hey, little guy," He said between sobs.
I just started at him, curious.
"My grandfather doesn't think I'm ready to be a Pokémon trainer," he admitted, "he says 'I'm not understanding enough of pokémon and that I am not responsible enough to care for one. He wants to hold me back a year and make me start my trainers quest with next year's sad excuse for recruits! Can you believe that?!" the young boys voice rose in agitation.
Hoping to calm him down, I moved closer, so as to rub against him like other Pikachu do for one another. He reached down and began to run his fingers through my short fur. It felt nice, but only for a moment as his hands began to constrict tightly around me.
"Pika!" I cried in fear as the human lifted me of the ground. I struggled but I couldn't escape his firm constricting grasp and I wasn't developed enough to shock him or free myself, I was young and defenseless.
"Well, see what my grandpa has to say about my skills when I show with a pokémon I caught all by myself. I don't even need a pokeball!" The boy cheered cynically as he stood and started to carry me at arm's length away from the forest.
"Pika! Pika pi!" I called out to my family and friends who were now peeking out from the tall grass to witness the atrocity. I shrieked as I watched them disappearing behind me as I was taken from the forest. Their faces were sodden and woeful, but no one came for me.
I struggled and fought the boys grip but eventually the boys tight grip and my own growing terror caused me to black out.
Everything after that is blurry. I just remember bits and pieces…
"Gary, what have you done?!" a man's voice ring through my memories, "…poor creature…"
"…why would you do this?"
"…thought you'd be proud…" I think it was the boy this time.
"I was right earlier… you hurt it…"
"…sorry, grandpa."
"This isn't how you prove yourself," the same man's voice again, "Let me look at it."
Then nothing. At least, not for a while.
I know time passed in between my gapped past recollections. It felt like months or maybe even years. My next thoughts are of being in a pokeball. It is supposed to be soothing but my experience was horrid. The peaceful sleep that awaited me inside the pokeball was endless and I hated awakening and not knowing how much time had passed or what had occurred since I was last a part of the world.
I remember researchers talking about me. Mumbling about being underdeveloped, and inhospitable since I was taken from the wilds and not raised. Their gibberish about injury, mental state, and stunted growth superseded any language I knew, but what I did know was that every day that passed, my distaste for humans grew. That kid had hurt me; the other pokémon had been right and I had been foolish and naïve. No trainer human would ever touch me again, or so I had thought…
My next memories were of awakening to the face of another young boy, dark black hair, with an eager grin. He reached for me and that was his first mistake, only one of what would be many…
Brock and Delia's chatter from the kitchen brought me back to the living room. I glanced around from the comfort of the couch cushion and realized Ash and Tracy were no longer downstairs. I uncurled from my cozy position and stretched out across the length of the sofa, deciding I'd better go find Ash before he ended up doing something stupid.
As I jumped down from the couch, I started to mosey around downstairs for traces of his whereabouts. I usually had no problem following his smell or sounds, but this house was full of people, and full of Ash's scent, making things a bit more difficult. I wandered into one of the downstairs unlit rooms. I think it was the dining room because in its center was a grand table surrounded by six chairs. I jumped on top to get a better view of the dark room. Nothing.
It may have seemed stupid searching in an empty room for him, but then again, I had found Ash in stranger places in the past. Plus, he an act for getting lost, I wouldn't put it past him to get lost in his own home.
I hopped down and continued searching for my beloved trainer. We really had journeyed so far together, both physically and spiritually. Ash was my brother, my companion, my family. I had once sworn I'd never befriend humans. I guess I was kind of wrong, I had befriended one… alright two. I had tolerance for about four or five but that was pushing it.
But, Ash was special. We knew it; his pokémon knew. It was evident in our growth. When we walked onto a battle field or into an arena these days, other young, trainer's pokémon thought twice before battling. Ash's pokémon were strong, dangerous, determined and our stories like the legends of our peerless trainer echoed far and wide, whispering among poké-communities, both wild and tame. The television may not show Ash, and the scoreboards might suggest betting against him, but the pokémon community knew better. When we traveled, the reverent eyes of other pokémon watched from the cover of the woods, straining to catch a glimpse of the team whose parable had traveled as far across the land as they had. Ash and the crew were often unaware but we noticed; I noticed.
Ash definitely wasn't down here so I made my way to the flight of stairs leading up to the second story of the house. As I rounded the corner to the staircase, Tracy was taking the last few steps back to the first floor, laughing with a giddy smile on his face. I looked at him with an uncertain expression, that was unusual behavior for him.
I felt my ears twitch as he looked down and noticed me, breaking his gluttonous laughing to talk to me, "Hey, Pikachu! You looking for Ash, buddy?"
"Pika!" I smiled, happy that he knew what I was up too and hoping he could help me out.
"He's upstairs," Tracy laughed gain as he threw a thumb in the direction of the staircase and walked off in the direction of Brock and Mr. Ketchum.
"Hey, Brock! You gotta here about this," he chided as he disappeared around the corner of the hallway.
I looked back up at the dimly lit stairs, and then stared to prance to the top, cautiously.
Once I got to the top, I looked around but didn't immediately see anyone.
"Ugh, what is taking Tray so long…?" The sound of Misty's soft, muffled voice made it way through the bathroom door.
I inched closer to the baseboards. I could hear her moving around in the bathroom. It sounded like she was brushing her teeth, maybe. I thought about jumping up and opening the door, but as I prepared to launch myself at the doorknob, I heard a noise coming from her bedroom.
I was immediately suspicious. Nobody messed with Misty or her things. She was like my second trainer. If anything, ever happened to Ash, God forbid, I would definitely stick with Misty. She would be what little of Ash I had left. After all, she was his. They argued for more than it was worth and they might pretend like they weren't together; but in pokémon terms, at least, she and Ash were paired. They both carried the same smell with them wherever they went. When Misty first joined the team and the few first years traveling together, she had carried this sweet, breezy scent about her. After a few more painful years had gone by though, her smell and Ash's unfortunately, profound aroma had intermingled with hers. It was almost impossible for a pokémon to tell them apart.
Another noise from Misty's room made my hair stand on end. This perpetrator as going to pay for messing with a member of team Ash. I sparked, preparing to trike as soon as I made eye contact with the criminal, but as I rounded the corner I couldn't help but stare.
"Hey, how's it going?!" Ash flirted with his reflection.
Unbelievable. This was my trainer, the one and only. Come on Ash, we have a reputation to uphold here… I slapped myself in the face as he puckered his lips.
I couldn't stand to watch this any longer, "Pika pi…" I glared at him in disbelief.
"Oh hey. Buddy!" He jumped at my presence, "It's not what you think…"
Whatever, Ash, if you would just tell Misty how you feel, before you two friends ruin your chances, you wouldn't half to make kissy faces at the mirror. I thought turning to observe Misty's room, we probably shouldn't stay long, Misty wouldn't be happy we were messing with her stuff. On the other hand, Ash and I had a great time messing with Misty when we could. It was Ash's only known way of showing affection and I was happy to help whenever I could. After all, we were the dream team. We would be in and out like ninjas. She'd never know. Operation panty raid was in effect!
I walked over to her bags and started digging through them.
"Oh! Right," Ash mumbled to himself coming out of a thought, "Pikachu look for a red bag, okay?"
What? A red bag? Ash, have more imagination, man. But okay then, I rolled my eyes, smiled and started to search around as my humor and dedication returned. I was still going to search for the panties, Ash could thank me later.
"Already on top of it boss," I thought as I rummaged Misty's suitcases.
We rummaged and rummaged but didn't find anything. So much for ninjas. We needed to pick up the pace if we were going to get the hell outta here before Misty came in. I turned to a suitcase I thought maybe I had overlooked and started to sift around again. After throwing out a few articles of clothing, I found it! The red bag was there at the bottom. I called out to Ash, still hanging over the edge of the suitcase.
"Whatcha got there, Pikachu?" He pulled me out and reached in grabbing the little pouch. "Great Job!"
He started to get up but glanced back at the suitcase and stopped.
I stood on my tippy toes and peered back over the edge of the case to see what had caught his attention so avidly.
He reached into the bad and grabbed a hold of something, pulling it out of the bag, meanwhile setting aside Misty's seashell pouch.
It was his hat. I remembered it as well as he did, his official league hat. She'd kept it, taking it from his room after he had left for Hoenn. Ash stared at it for a bit. I was curious what must be running through his head. She had kept his hat all this time. A grin played at his lips as he admired the old hat and its journey. He shook it out, as if it put it on but out of it fell a pokeball. It rolled under Misty's bed so I crawled underneath the frame and grabbed it, bringing it back to Ash.
He took it and started to examine it, but I already knew what it was. I was about to start trying to explain to him why she had it, but I was suddenly alerted to her footsteps vibrating down the hallway.
Crap! We had to make a run for it, "Pika!" I tried to get Ash's attention but it was too late.
"Ash, what are you doing?!" Misty looked over at us with uncertainty.
I should have just stayed downstairs. I had a feeling his was going to get ugly...
Narrator: It seems our snoopers have been caught red handed. Will Ash be able to talk his way out of this one? Whose pokeball is in Misty's bag? What has she to say for taking Ash's things? Looks like trouble in paradise. Could this be the end of a blossoming secret admiration?