Author's Note: I just wanted to thank those who reviewed chapter ten: KaliAnn, BannanGodis, remisolleke, and Guest: Heather. And to Spruceton Spook, who I know will get to it eventually! ;) I relished all your comments very much! And am sooo ecstatic to see I have a new reader too. :) Thank you Guest: Heather, for leaving your thoughts! You're too kind! It was a treat to read both of your reviews for this story and for Junk of the Heart. I appreciate you pointing out that tiny discrepancy that needed to be changed. Just to clarify, Jay and Delia's anniversary should be the seventeenth, not the sixteenth. I went back and fixed the mention in the previous chapter so there isn't any confusion. There's a reason why I am majoring in English and not math. ;p Honestly though, I try to stay on top of everything for you guys and for myself, so most of the content is fairly accurate with logic and consideration. But I am human. XD So anyway, that minor detail has been fixed!
Also I have some good news... my summer break has officially started! Well, once I turn in my final this evening it will be! I am sooooooo happy I can't even describe. After that, I'm just going to decompress and let my mind recover from its spent exhaustion on over-analyzing sociological studies. lol.
Now please enjoy the new installment of Sunlight's Return! :D
DISCLAIMER: Pokémon belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.
Sunlight's Return
Chapter 11
"Pocketful of Sunshine"
Hanging up the last pan and putting away a few wooden spoons, Michelle was relieved her day at work was officially over.
She had stayed early into the night, making sure everything was in order while seeing her sous chefs out before leaving herself. She wasn't alone, however. While Leah and the other staff members had retired for the day at a sooner time, Delia was still wrapping up her own work before taking off for some peace, relaxation...and sleep. All in all, it was a quiet preparation to head home. Michelle cleaning up the last remaining messes in the kitchen, and Delia making sure everything was settled with the night manager. All seemed in order when Delia strolled into the kitchen to see Michelle, both grabbing their purses and ready to crash on their own sofas once they stumbled tiredly into their homes.
Hearing the sound of soft feet and the clasp of a purse clicking shut, Michelle's eyes flew up. She was sticking a couple wooden spoons in one of the many holders when she spotted Delia in the entryway of the kitchen, most likely coming in to say goodbye to her. Just by a flicker of her gaze, Michelle could see the evident exhaustion sweeping across Delia's face and immediately understood why she was feeling this way.
Soon, a sigh flew out of the chef's mouth. "Today sure has been a whirlwind, hasn't it?" she commented, finally removing her apron.
Delia twisted her head around, finishing adjusting her purse before throwing it over her shoulder. "You can say that again," she breathed, eyes wandering to the side. "Oh, I have no idea what I'm going to do when I get home," she moaned, placing a delicate hand on her cheek in worry. "How I'm going to handle this issue with Ash. Do you have any idea what possessed him to put hot peppers in Gary's burger?"
Oh, Michelle knew all right. She had actually done a little investigating, sneakily asking Dani as to what exactly occurred in the dining room once seeing Ash begrudgingly scrub away on the many dirty pans. So Dani quietly delivered all the details, claiming she had spoken to Ash after Delia cornered him with her motherly lecture. And while Dani's stance on Ash's actions had not changed, she was severely irked and vexed by Gary's parading into the inn and ensuing chaos. Michelle herself could not agree more with Dani, especially after Gary's not-so-considerate critique of her food.
Considering her words carefully, Michelle responded. "Apparently from what Dani says, Gary was not only giving Ash a hard time about the food and the service, but he was talking smack about you and one of his friends. The details were pretty incriminating."
Instantly, Delia's eyes widened. "Me?" she echoed, pointing to herself in disbelief.
"Yep. I guess Tom insisting you still bear the name 'town tart' influenced one malicious kid," the older woman elucidated, shaking her from the unnecessary insinuating.
With still an ever shocked expression, Delia's shoulders slouched and soon she leaned against the counter. Her purse now hung loosely on her arm, soaking in the news that was not so surprising, yet astounding nonetheless. Now Delia's make-believe "reputation" was not only causing her havoc, but Ash as well. If she was bold enough she'd go pound on Tom's door and give him a piece of her mind for throwing that ridiculous name around over an accidental incident. One that did not need to be shared with the entire town and be carried on for this many years... "Oh, no," she mumbled, chestnut eyes quivering. "Ash- so he was defending me?" she suddenly persisted, wondering if her ears were deceiving her.
"You could put it that way." Within seconds, Michelle could see how her confirmation affected the distressed woman, quickly coming to Delia's side to ease her worries. "Listen hon, as a chef and business woman, I don't excuse what Ash did. I don't. Period," she made sure to emphasize. "But as a family friend and as your Godmother..." Her answer hesitated as much as her eye contact, eventually swiveling back to Delia in a low, facetious whisper. "Just between you and me, Gary got what he deserved."
Even so, Delia didn't feel any less guilty or frustrated by the situation. None of Ash and Gary's squabbles were simple matters to sort out, nor did Delia's patience last long during the duration of Ash's ongoing explanation for his behavior. Handling a sometimes defiant and- in most instances- rightfully upset son all on her own was challenging. Delia felt beside herself after a while, wondering if she did the right thing, if she had been too harsh, or had been too easy on him... Now given the clear picture, Delia was appreciative to have some light shed on the issue. Yet, she still could not decide how to proceed.
"I...I didn't even listen to him," the auburn haired woman sputtered, pushing back a loose strand of her tresses. "I was just so upset by his actions. That's not like Ash to do something so- mean!" she declared in simple terms.
Michelle nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, but you know when Gary gets him going there's no stopping him," she also added, for it was a crucial fact.
And Delia couldn't argue.
"You do have a point... I should have listened to Ash," sighed Delia again, still beating herself up internally. "Regardless that he deserved to be punished, I should have heard him out. Gosh, what's the matter with me?"
"Nothing. Delia, you're being too hard on yourself," the older woman insisted gently, looming to catch her shifting eyesight. "I may not be a mom, but from what I can tell, it's not easy."
"No," Delia chuckled faintly with wide eyes, "it's definitely not a cakewalk."
"And you're doing the best you can. Remember Delia, you're raising Ash all by yourself. He's going to, dare I say, screw up!" exclaimed Michelle, attempting to be lighthearted by the less than simple predicament. "Life happens, and as long as Ash corrects his mistakes and sees the errors of his ways he'll be fine. And besides, you know him better than anyone. He always feels the need to defend and stand up for people. He's always looking out for you."
That could not be denied. Since Ash's father vanished before their very eyes, he felt the sudden need to always shield both his parents from the cruel words spread about town, and in doing so, attempted to stop a younger Gary while he was in the midst of snickering about one of his parents in some unkind fashion. These words hurt Ash deeply, and when Delia believed her son was able to let go of some of the tormenting, to separate facts from lies, he was still apparently affected by the connotation. It was difficult for Ash to be the bigger person and simply walk away without uttering a single word. Delia was aware of this headstrong streak in Ash, though she could have sworn his tendency to fight back had lessened quite a great deal. Clearly, whatever Gary's exact words were, they rubbed Ash the wrong way enough for him to pull such an audacious stunt in an effort to defend his only parental provider and supporter. And Delia wasn't happy about anything regarding the circumstance.
"Yes, well that may be, but I don't want him doing that," she insisted seriously. "I can take care of myself. I need to be the one looking out for him-"
"He just loves you, sweetie," Michelle continued to remind, placing a loving hand on Delia's shoulder. "Remember...you're all he's got."
The Pokémon Center became quieter as each hour drew closer to nightfall.
In the earlier hours of sun and warmth, Drake had purchased a handful of needed necessities for Misty, and she could not thank him enough for his assistance. In the Vermillion Mall with their many department stores he waited patiently, letting her take her time to pick out the items she needed before they hit the road once more. In the end, Misty was able to stuff three pairs of shorts, two tank-tops, two thin t-shirts, a bundle of socks, one set of pajamas, health and body products, and a small package of colorful hairbands in her new traveling bag to top it all off. She was giddy, to say the least, to find a retro print over-the-shoulder bag with Horsea and bubbles printed on the pockets and strap. Just being able to walk about and select the essentials she was in dire need of relieved some stress that was growing inside of her. And the trip eased her mind about her less than fortunate predicament only having two Pokémon on her arsenal. Not to mention…it was very chivalrous of Drake to willingly pick up the bill of her expenses, and even Jay too, adding his own handful of cash to help her. After all, it was the least the men could do- considering all the twists and turns she had faced so far. Though Ash's father did not join them on their thrilling shopping expedition, staying behind to discuss further matters with Prof. Oak.
Once the pair arrived back at the Pokémon Center in the late afternoon, Jay did not reveal much and kept to himself till they were through dining in the center's cafeteria. Then, many trainers traveled to their assigned rooms for the night, the entry to the building literally emptied, which left them in privacy to comment on the news Jay had. That is, the findings both Misty and Drake assumed he would have, since he had been on the phone with the professor for a decent amount of time. As the lights dimmed in the center, the three lounged on the sofas available for relaxing trainers, aimlessly sitting by as more and more people ventured to their rooms. After a while, all that was left was a busily working Nurse Joy, her hired assistants, and a few Chansey scurrying about to assess checked-in Pokémon.
Eventually, Drake flashed his gaze towards his brother, who sat across from him. "So, what did Prof. Oak have to say?"
Jay raised his eyebrows, slipping out of his stoic stare. "Actually, he might have made some progress after all."
"Well, what is it?" the islander persisted excitedly.
His body tensed, as if he could not partake in the luxury of lounging on the couch like the two people opposite of him could. Then, he sucked in a deep breath, leaned forward with a hand running through his midnight locks. "Sam's not sure how valid his hypothesis is, and quite frankly, I'm not too sure either," he began quietly, eyes darting from side to side to look for any lurkers overhearing their whispers.
"But?" inquired Misty this time, also very eager to hear the news.
"But it makes...sense," finished Jay, eyes shifting back to them. "Since Ho-Oh's rumored gift is to give life back to creatures, Sam thinks resurrection is somehow in the cards."
A gasp flew from Misty's mouth. "Resurrection?"
"Are you serious?" echoed Drake, just as dumbfounded as the girl beside him.
Jay nodded his head somberly. "I'm not joking. From my experience with Giovanni that wouldn't surprise me. However, I can't wrap my head around one thing: what on earth would he want to bring back from the dead? And how would the feather connect to that?"
A pause followed after, all three of the trainers exchanging looks. There were notions that they silently contemplated, but there was not a single idea they were confident with to definitively state. Yet, one of them in particular felt bold enough to announce an assumption.
"Maybe the feather is needed to call upon Ho-Oh," proposed Drake logically.
"Maybe..." It appeared Jay was considering his brother's hypothesis, and continued to ponder meticulously with a focused attention. "Originally, his mother had me use one of the silver bells from the Tin Tower. And both the bell and the feather connect back to Ho-Oh in some way..." Then, a heavy sigh was produced. "But I can't say anything for certain."
Another moment of awkward silence fell upon the stumped trainers, all keeping to themselves as they soaked in their grave situation. Wearily, Misty shot a glance to Drake and soon to Jay, hoping for one of them to shift their blank expressions. But neither did, and she could not stand wallowing in the frustration that was embodying them. Misty never believed they were going to solve the mystery behind Team Rocket's scheme overnight; however, she wasn't ready to sit and wade while dreaming of a hopeless cause that was impossible to decode.
With confidence, sea-green eyes flashed. "For right now we do know whatever Giovanni is doing is obviously for no good and that somehow you and that feather are needed," started Misty openly, hoping to stir up a conversation again. "Do you remember why Team Rocket wanted you to call upon Ho-Oh the last time?"
Of course he remembered. He recalled all the details so vividly his pulse raced wildly and his mind swirled in panic every time his thoughts relived the traumatic events. Jay was certain it would take someone to erase his memory for him to forget that horrific day. Though he didn't expect the girl to understand. "Giovanni's mother was convinced if she saw the phoenix she'd be blessed with eternal happiness, as the legend says. However, that wasn't the case. And...I don't seriously believe Giovanni would attempt the same tactic after seeing it fail once," he added, a sense of credence in his voice. "He's much smarter, more tactful than his mother. She was rash, compulsive, completely self-absorbed... Her son is just a more calculative version of herself. Whatever he has up his sleeve he's going to do it slowly and methodically...and then attack when you least expect it."
The last part of his declaration made Misty's skin crawl, the worst possibilities filtering through her head. More and more, discussing Giovanni's tactics, what he was truly like...her frets for Ash and his mother could not be suppressed. And evidently, the redhead wasn't the only one quietly brooding with these frightening thoughts.
"And as for Ash and Delia?"
The mere mention of their names sparked another hue in Jay's eyes, his pupils widening with a hurried heart rate. "What?" he spoke, completely caught off-guard as he glanced to his younger brother.
Drake now sat with his broad toned arms folded over his chest, blue eyes capturing Jay's attention in a pensive hold. Up to this point, Drake had been rather flexible and gentle with Jay on broaching the subject of his family. However, impending worry could not be lifted from the islander's mind. And it was justifiable. "Jay, what if Giovanni is already plotting something that we don't know about?" he suddenly declared, fright and sternness seeping through his eyes. "What if he knows about us and then they will be danger-"
"He can't. He can't."
Deathly afraid couldn't begin to describe Jay's feelings on the matter of his family being in Giovanni's clutches. After so long of running, of the lies, of the misconceptions, the inability to clear the air and to one day be in Delia's good graces again...it would be devastating to discover his arch nemesis had beaten him to the punch. Had fulfilled the threats he had warned Jay of ten years ago- that distant yet unforgettable year...when everything so pure and beautiful in his life was shot to hell. If Jay was going to fulfill his last days on the run, he was finally going to do it his way. Though while he wished to admit it or not, he was nevertheless still playing by Giovanni's game, hunkering in the shadows in hopes no one would find him. No one would come after them...
Serious eyes did not shift, even with the doubts and concerns floating through his stressed mind. "I won't let it come to that," the master declared passionately with insistence. "There's no way in hell I'm going to allow him to lay a hand on either one of them. I've protected Delia and Ash for this long... I can keep it up."
While Jay's baritone vocal cords may have appeared threatening to some, Drake wasn't fully convinced. He had physically seen his brother's changed attributes, the look in his eyes that spoke of pure tiredness. For Jay's own health, Drake felt it was dire to address Ash and Delia's safety, regardless if they all did not want to comment on the possible grim reality. Not only that, but he wasn't persuaded by Jay's assured words. His older brother may have felt the natural instinct to protect. And by doing so, he would put forth all his brute strength and brains as a skillful trainer, to continuously ensure his family was as far away from evil's grasp as possible. However, with how things were panning out, with the new recruits Giovanni had after them... Drake couldn't believe everything would fall into place perfectly, as much as they wished for such an outcome. And as experienced and intelligent a trainer Jay was, he knew better than to not weigh out the positive and negative results from his actions.
Resurrecting the dead was, after all, not to be taken lightly. No matter what the costs or one's feelings on the matter may be.
"But what if your distance from them isn't enough? Then what?" the islander countered anyway, with a reasonable tone. "We have to discuss the possibility." His brother's sheer love for his family was nothing new to Drake. And yet, the denial had to be questioned. The reality unfolding before them could not be blinded by love. Even if Jay's intentions were good.
Jay's face stayed fixated in a definite stare. "...Brock and Sam will take care of that. I can't think of the worst case scenario, Drake," he persisted evenly, earnestly wishing for his brother to hear his side. For that positivity and hope were the only things keeping him halfway sane. "If we're going to do this right, we are going to stay as far away from Pallet as possible. And figure out what exactly Giovanni is up to. Brock is on the ferry, isn't he?" he inquired, eyes diverting to the redhead before him.
"Yeah, he has been for a while now," Misty nodded. She had only told him a dozen times. "He should be in Pallet in a few days..."
The reassurance, however, didn't seem to change the atmosphere engulfing the sitting area. Jay still appeared slightly on edge, both out of nervousness and stubbornness to stray away from formulating the condition his family could be at stake to face. While Drake remained rather annoyed by his brother's lack of cooperation on the concern, beside himself on the subject in its entirely. And as for Misty... She was torn. She could not blame Jay for the way he reacted, for endlessly wanting to believe his family could remain safe under his watch. Yet she also understood where Drake was coming from, and in a sense, had to agree with him. It was an indisputable situation and by the rising silence and challenging glares being exchanged from the brothers, Misty hastily tried to engage and refocus their discussion.
"Let's just- think about what Prof. Oak said," she started calmly, begrudgingly earning the men's attention. Then, in particular, she looked to Jay. "Did he have any hunches as to what Team Rocket wants to resurrect?"
The master sighed, though there was still something hopeful twinkling in his eye. "Sadly, no. He is, however, trying to get in touch with an old colleague of his by the name of Dr. Donald Kelly." Instantly, both Misty and Drake perked up at the mention of the unfamiliar name. "He was an assistant training under a professor at Celadon University while Sam was a college student there. Eventually, the man moved on in his career and soon was renowned for his studies concerning the origin and powers of legendary Pokémon. Sam thinks he'd be of service to us, possibly have the answers we're looking for...but he can't locate him."
Drake's anticipated expression faded, his voice drooping with despondency. "Then I guess we're back to square one," he replied in dissatisfaction. Just when he thought some useful information and possible guidance from an outside source would be available to aid in the solving of his brother's predicament- there was a catch. Cruel irony in that of course the only man who might offer more assistance than Prof. Oak had unknown whereabouts.
And Drake wasn't the only one feeling cheated, thwarted by it all.
"I suppose so," agreed Misty with lowered brows. Then, she swiftly threw out another question, not completely ready to accept a defeatist mindset. "But does Prof. Oak know at least what region he's in?"
Jay's too very vexed expression was similar to Drake's, yet more temperate as he kept feeding off his mental hope for strength. "Last time he checked, the guy was living in Kanto, which would be an advantage for us. Though Sam believes he's secluded himself somewhere for- reasons," he summed up awkwardly, though he, too, was befuddled by Sam's wording, for he was ignorant to what "reasons" there were for the man's choice of solitary confinement.
Finally, Misty's expression dampened. "Oh," was all she said, before bright eyes darted to the floor in disappointment.
It seemed even she could not see a way to continue the conversation with optimism and encouragement. They were all in a real mess that would take more than wishing to be dug out of. As if large rocks relentlessly poured down on them every time they attempted to climb out of the hole Giovanni had personally dug himself. All eyes stayed cast down, Misty and Drake hardly glancing about or knowing what to say. At this rate, they both wanted to crawl into bed and sleep away on their troubles, praying that in dreamland they could possibly escape the dilemma they were faced to resolve. Wanting endlessly for Jay to be safe for his own sake and health, for some kind of sign to show itself...
Then, a rumble of a baritone voice snapped their attention back into focus.
"There is one thing I'm certain about. I think something we all can agree on." Immediately, they both looked up at Jay and listened willingly, the seriousness in his voice leaving the hair standing up on the back of their necks. And even Jay was chilled by his truthful yet terrifying words. "Ho-Oh stands for grace, peace, and virtue of purity. And whatever Giovanni has in mind is going to corrupt all the phoenix represents. For his own selfish benefits...whatever they may be."
The trainers may have known Ho-Oh's symbolism, and agreed to its definition without argument, with consensus to go to bed, reflect over their discussion, and to start fresh in the morning... But what they didn't know was that outside the Pokémon Center there were two dark figures who scurried out from underneath Jay's car, and that a tiny blinking red light was left behind.
Unlike last time, eighties music was not bouncing off the walls in Pallet's store. Rather, it was sixties tunes, indicating to Delia that Greta was on a nostalgia kick again.
Nevertheless, she didn't mind the change in music, finding it refreshing as she strolled her way into the store. The establishment was only going to be open for another hour, giving Delia a brief amount of time to find the exact item she was searching for. In an effort to make up for the mother and son's rift, Delia journeyed to the checkout aisle, focused on buying a Pokémon League magazine to mend the tension. She knew Ash enjoyed flipping through one to pass the time, and in some cases, aided him in his training. But if Ash was entitled to have a new edition of the leagues' magazine, didn't that mean... Ash's reckless act wasn't going to be excused and he would still have to face another day of scrubbing pans and- though it was debatable- make a halfway decent an apology to Gary. Still, even at that, Delia felt responsible for not fully hearing her son out, now knowing for certain he was defending her and a friend... It was complicated matter, that both Delia saw reason in Ash's frustration and then did not. One in which she would have to discuss with him in full detail and cooperation, most likely tomorrow.
In her current dazed mindset, Delia knew it was not the best time for her to ponder over her next step and instead simply took action in locating the desired magazine. However, as she began her short hunt across the shelves, another object caught her eye. And it wasn't one she'd usually pick up and dispute mentally about purchasing. It was an article from a newspaper, and what was on the front report startled the woman. It was announcing Fuchsia City's recent festival attack thanks to none other than Team Rocket. Delia shook her head at this, not surprised at all by their ambushing public events. Dealing with the three maladroit agents who were always in constant pursuit of her son was enough to shake her nerves. Thankful that her encounters with them were scarce, Delia was always appreciative that Ash had his friends with him whenever the Pokémon thieves decided to make an appearance.
And apparently, Delia's son and his comrades weren't the only ones dueling with the corrupt organization. The front page briefly commemorated a group of trainers who prevented Team Rocket from causing further damage, but for some reason their names were left anonymous. It was comforting to know there were trainers out there to protect Kanto's society, however it made Delia question how diligent their police system was. That, or Team Rocket was so slippery to catch everyone had to go out of their way to hinder their harmful intentions...
Shaking off her thoughts of Kanto's leading criminals, Delia refocused her attention on finding Ash the little treat she had originally come for. Then with a quick skim of eyes, she found it on the middle rack. There was only one Pokémon League magazine left, and Delia took the opportunity to grab it before it was grasped in another person's hands. So the woman picked up the magazine, flipping through it as she waited in line and found a couple of articles she believed Ash would enjoy reading. One based on battling tips from Elite Four member Prima, another about the remodeling of the rock field to a more arduous level for competitors... But none of these basic but enlightening articles could top the next one Delia was about to discover. As she so innocently pulled back another page, a jaw-dropping development was revealed, and a gasp leaped from her throat.
And Delia knew for certain that Ash would be exhilarated with antsy excitement, and absolute admiration would fall from his lips.
That morning, after a quick breakfast, Jay, Drake, and Misty left immediately from the Pokémon Center.
They woke up, packed their belongings and were the first in line for the meal most people tended to skip. It was Jay's idea to rise earlier than normal, to beat the crowd instead of succumbing to waiting aimlessly towards the end of the line. That and the obvious fact he was fixated on the plan of leaving as soon as possible before Team Rocket strolled into Vermillion looking everywhere for them. Another car chase was to be avoidable, and if it could then Jay was determined to push his traveling companions out of the center as fast he could. Even if Misty was still in the middle of finishing her granola bar and putting away her money in which she paid for it. And she not so shamefully griped about on the way out. Nonetheless, the three trainers were out of the establishment in decent time and made headway in stuffing their full bags into the trunk of the car. Once making everything fit, Drake was the one who slammed the back shut, Jay already heading over to the driver's seat. Misty was about to join him as well, till fidgeting with her coin purse ended in a spilling of dingy coins across the cement. A soft groan slipped from her lips, hands diving downward to collect the dispersed change hastily.
Drake was about to head to the passenger's seat himself, and stopped once he noticed Misty was not following him.
"Ya coming, Misty?" he called, not seeing exactly what she was doing.
She perked her head up. "I'll be in the car in a minute," the redhead announced, arm stopping midway between her hurried collecting. "I'm just picking up some change I dropped."
"Need a hand?" she heard Drake offer his services.
But before she could respond to his kind gesture, Misty was already picking up the last piece of change, one that had rolled right underneath the car. And she grabbed it with one attempt, though as it rested in her grasp, something else stole her attention. The small dime nearly slipped out from between her fingertips as a red light kept on flashing. Misty was paralyzed. Silence then took over, and as each second ticked by Drake could no longer stand by and wait for her to respond.
"Misty?" he called again, finding it very strange she wasn't answering him immediately. It was simple question; a yes or no would suffice. Yet she had not proclaimed either. As his eyes dashed down to the cement, the islander took notice that Misty's bare knees were still firmly planted on the solid ground, making him wonder what the world she was doing. If she was okay.
Concern began to consume him, and soon, Jay too shot him a strange look. "Misty?-"
"Mr. Ketchum! Drake! Come quick!"
The alarm beckoning for the men sounded as if air had finally returned to her stunned lungs, causing the two to take off in hurried steps. Both trainers rounded each side of the car, each standing before a kneeling Misty, who remained in a frozen state. Startled stares watched her carefully, both trainers beseeching for her to say something.
"What is it?" inquired Drake.
"What's wrong?" added Jay.
A gulp slowly glided down Misty's throat, her index finger quaked as she pointed to the distraction that captured her attention in such a dramatic manner. "T-take a l-l-look for yourself," she managed to sputter, sea-green eyes shuddering just as much as her hand and voice.
At first, Jay and Drake exchanged another perplexed glance, and then both men crouched down and took a look for themselves. Like Misty, they too froze abruptly. Blood drained from their faces, their minds racing with the one answer most would assume that thing to be. The origin of the flashing destructive red light...
"Get back."
Jay's swift and urgent demand came with a gentle push of his hand. Following the command, Misty squirmed backwards, halfway on the cement as she watched Jay cautiously crawl underneath the vehicle and turn on his back. Drake too appeared extremely perturbed, kneeling with wobbling knees as his brother's hand drew closer to the beeping device.
"Jay, be careful," he ordered heedfully, his mind still pounding with the worst possibility. "Is- is it a?-"
"It's not," the master finished, his hand fully clamping onto the small box. Both Misty and Drake winced in fright as Jay snapped it off the car, and soon the anxiety flowed out of them rapidly, realizing it truly wasn't planted there to blow them up. And Jay reminded them of this with a small smirk. "They want me alive, remember?" he retorted, pulling himself out from underneath.
"Then what is it?" questioned Drake, ignoring his remark.
"Looks like a tracking device," replied Jay, eyes scanning over the item as he tossed it once in his hand. He then clenched it in his fist tightly, his gaze shooting back up at his comrades. "We'll have to get rid of it."
Misty lowered her eyebrows. "How?"
Another smirk was speedily formed. "I have an idea."
Traveling through the streets, turning corners carefully, and not running any red-lights in this instance, Jay was busy concocting his plan to discard the tracking device. As they were cruising down the road, he kept his gaze sharp and scrutinized the area around them, as if picking the ideal spot to dump the less than desirable object. Beside him sat a very unnerved Drake, holding the flickering device and wishing for it to finally be out of his possession. They had waited long enough, he thought, mentally pleading for his somehow cool and collected brother to choose a damn location and be rid of the haunting item resting in his grasp. Thankfully, for everyone's rising nerves, the sound of splashes below with the color of a rich blue hue prompted Jay to make a command.
"Throw it in the water. You have a good angle?" asked the master, eyes shifting just slightly from the road ahead.
Drake's steady gaze concentrated on the clear sloshing depths beneath them. "Yeah, I think," he answered.
"Then just toss it."
Tossing the tracking device was harder than it looked. At the time, they were crossing over a long bridge, with one other small overpass below them, closer to the proximity of the water. Vermillion was famous for its waters, shores, and harbor, and considering the city's natural area, bridges were bound to be built above rivers. Now the problem was making sure a strong enough thrust of his muscular arm could launch the device far enough into the river's depth. So he did the best that he could, rolling down his side window and forcing the mechanical device to fly with one hardy throw. Closely, Drake watched it glide through the sky, though as the car kept on speeding, he missed the exact moment of watching the item hit the water. But from how powerful the hurl was, the islander assumed it landed where it needed to go. Forever lying with the many wild Goldeen and Magikarp swimming peacefully about.
"There," he announced with a sigh of relief, rolling the window back up. "It's gone."
"That'll keep them busy for a while," commented Jay, thankful too for the removal of such a minor but explicit device of their whereabouts. "And for us, we can halfway relax."
"I hope so," agreed Drake, yet a twinge of leeriness lingered in his eyes. Whatever forthcoming fear he believed would arise he quickly shrugged off and turned his attention onto something else. Something distracting. "You mind if I turn the radio on?" he asked Jay, fingers motioning to the buttons.
"Go ahead."
So with his permission Drake leaned forward and began the long task of flipping through the many stations. Yays and nays were made by both Misty and Jay between selections. Music baring the twang of a banjo to the strumming of a ukulele, which Jay severely protested even though Drake enjoyed that genre and Misty herself didn't mind it. Drake was after a while drawing closer to a classic rock station and a heavy metal one to boot in which he knew his older brother would be satisfied with. But a popular pop song with a lively contemporary sound that Misty found infectious to dance to sprung excitement in her eyes. While she and her sisters had different tastes and views on several topics, they all did share a love for catchy pop songs that could not be helped but listened to repeatedly.
"Oh, go back! Go back!" urged Misty suddenly as Drake skimmed past the song. "I love this song!"
"Okay," he replied, going back and allowing the female vocalist ridden song to play with a neutral position as he leaned back in his seat.
But Jay wouldn't have it.
"No," groaned the man with a huff. "I don't wanna listen to this."
In most instances, Jay tolerated a fairly diverse selection of music thanks to his parents culturing him at a young age. However, some genres he strongly refused to listen to for certain reasons, usually because of a reminder of his childhood or simply due to the fact that it was not his preference. Pop music that was targeted to the demographic of teenage girls who adored simple foot-tapping tunes and repetitive lyrics about falling for a boy or breaking up with a boy were definitely not on his list of likes. Even if this song was more on the lines of fantasizing a "sweet-escape" to less complicated days; one fleeing from their troubles while facing an inconvenient situation, much like the one he was in currently... It was already decided if he was the one driving, he was going to listen to the crashing of drums and an electric guitar solo that deserved an outstanding applause.
"It's not a big deal, Jay," answered Drake speedily, rolling his eyes. "You can have a turn with the radio in a few minutes."
"Geez, way to lay down the law, Mom," he spat back wittily, pouting as his gaze trailed away from his brother. Though, it wasn't long before his eyes wandered back to Drake, carefully observing the tips of his little brother's fingers tap in unison with the electronic beat of the song, as if the melodious ring was shamefully getting to even the likes of Drake.
A sudden snort was produced from Jay's throat. "Don't tell me you like this music?" he scoffed, stealing Drake's entranced focus.
With subtly flushed cheeks, he shrunk into his shoulders, and meek eyes glanced away from his brother's judging stare. "It's a guilty pleasure," Drake admitted quietly, forgetting how observant Jay tended to be, catching onto every little facial expression and movement.
Jay nodded with a watchful eye. "Uh-huh."
Listening to it all, Misty decided to throw her own two-cents in. "Well I think it's just fine if Drake likes this song," she proclaimed in defense to the Orange Crew leader as she leaned forward with her head sticking out between the men's two front seats, her hands reaching on each leather-detailed back.
From her comment, Jay couldn't suppress another huff, to which Misty narrowed her eyebrows at. "C'mon Mr. Ketchum, have a little fun while we're on the road!" she said lightheartedly. Though the redhead paused for second, rethinking her words. Out of all of them, Jay had the utmost right to be tense and, in some cases, entitled to call the shots. But this harmless, silly song...he could indulge in it. Just for a few minutes, to forget about his current worries and cut loose for a change, no matter how ridiculous the song might have sounded to him. Misty, of course, did not want to dismiss his troubles as something trivial, but she didn't want to see him get so wrapped up in them that nothing could bring about leisure to his guarded state. After all, it was just them now, and that horrific tracking device Team Rocket had so deviously attached to the vehicle was long gone.
In that moment, they might as well have enjoyed the bit of sanctuary they had.
"I mean," she started again, rephrasing in a more sensitive manner. "I know you're stressed about...everything, and you have every right to be. There's no denying that. But for just a moment, could you entertain me and suffer through this song?" threw in Misty playfully, a small, hopeful grin growing from her lips. She had seen his eyes light with sparks before, a brief softness of happiness shining through that hard, tense gaze. And out of kindness and growing trust, Misty wished to not only help guide Jay back to his family, but keep his sanity intact as well. "I promise you can have the next pick, and Drake and I will suffer through whatever head-banging song you choose."
"Please don't promise that," mumbled Drake, for he himself hadn't vowed to such an agreement.
To Drake's dismay, it was a fair proposal Jay could not fight, and a tiny slip of a smile was produced. Misty was viewed as a kid in Jay's eyes, a teenager, yes, but still innocent and young enough to not challenge, to not get intensely angry with. She had proven herself to have somewhat of a temper and a bite, but a kind and considerate heart nonetheless. And she was beginning to remind Jay of someone he knew very well like an open book. However, there was something about her response that pricked his ears in peculiarity. "How do you know I prefer, as you like to call it, 'head-banging' music?" he retorted jokingly, though in all seriousness he wished to know how the girl was aware of his favorite genre.
Misty's smile fully blossomed with a soft shimmer of her even complexion. She hoped the answer would warm the man's heart. "Ash might have mentioned that to me," she breathed.
As she predicted ever so propitiously, nothing could hold back Jay's gentle expression from fully forming. A very delicate smile graced his handsome face. However, what Misty didn't expect was with a humble movement of his fingers, the man decided to crank up the volume, permitting her to truly splurge on the second half of the song while it lasted. Evidently, Misty's friend's estranged father wasn't as stoic and gruff as she originally found him to be.
That much might have been true, but the location in which Drake believed he had successfully abandoned the tracking device was journeying away from the ocean, instead of actually floating to the bottom of the watery floor.
Ash was asleep when Delia arrived home, and she didn't have much of a chance to speak with him that morning either.
It appeared he was somewhat avoiding her, making a dash to the door to run an errand she had asked him to do a day or two ago. But Delia didn't stop her son from leaving, allowing him to make the trip to Prof. Oak's to fetch a half-dead house plant he was having difficulty keeping alive. She still, at the present time, had not conjured the exact words she so desperately wanted to communicate to Ash. In a sense, the words would usually come to the woman during a tough conversation such as this. And like every other time, Delia prayed the awkward exchanges and the quarrel from yesterday would be cleared up in order for them to know how to properly proceed with the issue at hand. So waiting for Ash's return, Delia spruced up the kitchen and, on occasion, her eyes would trail to the magazine in the plastic bag that lay on the kitchen table. She had full intentions of giving it to him once their discussion occurred with a resolution, silently tickled pink knowing how enthralled Ash would soon be at the big announcement written inside that magazine.
It would brighten in his day without a doubt, though Delia was never the kind of parent to bribe her child with luxury items or reward them after displaying such bad behavior. But there had been a huge misconstruction of the circumstance with Gary, and Delia felt partially responsible for it once realizing how awfully crude and obscene Gary was acting towards her son. That wasn't going to change the fact that Ash still needed to be accountable for his actions. And Delia was going to make that clear when he came through the door.
After draining the sink of soapy water, wiping off the counters with a clean dishcloth, and finally feeding Pikachu his morning allotment in his decorated bowl, Delia heard the door creak open. With an evenly coated summer tan Ash entered into the house, carefully balancing a medium sized planter in his grasp while closing the door behind him with his sneaker. He then approached Delia quietly with the plant he had been instructed to bring over. Prof. Oak had mentioned to her that the exotic houseplant he received from Annie and Chad as a gift was not favoring well, and baring such a green thumb, Delia offered her assistance. And now actually seeing the plant's condition, it was no wonder Sam brought the plant's grave state to her attention.
"Hey," Ash soon called, his voice soft with eyes avoiding contact. "I got that plant from Prof. Oak's."
Delia immediately sensed his apprehension, and bared an inviting and gentle grin as she still remained in the kitchen. "Oh thank you, honey. Just set it by the patio door." She was hoping her friendly tone compared to what she gave him yesterday would break the ice. "I'll figure out where to place it and how to treat it."
Heaving the plant up to get a better hold of its base, Ash followed his mother's instructions and sat it down. "Prof. Oak wasn't joking when he said it needed a little TLC," he observed, stretching his cramped back out. Then, for the first time his gazed lifted to Delia. But it was quick. "It looks pretty bad, Mom."
"It does?" Hurried footsteps meandered to the patio door, soon standing beside her son with a lowering of brows. "Oh, dear," the woman sighed, placing a hand on her cheek. "When he said it was wilting a little, I didn't think the plant was this bone dry! Poor thing. I wonder what the problem could have been?"
"Too much sun?" hypothesized Ash with a shrug.
That was a decent assumption on Ash's part, for Delia too noticed the rather parched leaves looking frail and brittle with a discoloring of its natural rich green hue.
"Probably," agreed his mom. "But I'll get it back to being healthy in no time."
Such optimism left Ash feeling he could make his grand getaway he was in the middle of forming a reality. Ever since yesterday's rather stern lecture from his mother, Ash felt as if he should avoid her, terror of the altercation spurring again or somehow causing more accidental mayhem. It did appear that Delia was back to being on the chipper side, not harboring any grudges that fine sunny morning. Still... Ash was anticipating something to happen, given they hadn't left on clear terms the day before.
Wandering eyes trailed to the front door, his body twisting as the teenager backed up to it. "Say Mom, ya mind if I go do some training?" he asked, his feet already moving, hoping by his sudden departure Pikachu would catch on and join him. "Dani and Tracey said they'd battle with me today and help me with a couple of strategies."
Delia perked up. "Oh sure, but can you just hold that thought for a minute, Ash? There are a couple of things I want to talk to you about."
His swift turning of feet did him no good in drawing closer to the door, nor did it stop his mother from speaking the words he dreaded to hear. Huffing softly, Ash twirled back around and followed Delia. "Uh, okay."
She led him into the kitchen and offered for him to take a seat, which he did, sitting across from her. As he looked over to his left, he saw Pikachu was still busy munching away on his electric boosters created by none other than Element Endurance. He didn't give much thought over the haunting brand-name, though, for he was too anxious about what his mom had to say. Once settled in her seat, Delia ruffled out the creases in her skirt, Ash watching her carefully as he cocked a dubious eye.
"What is it, Ma?" he eventually questioned, anxiously waiting for a response.
A deep breath was exhaled between Delia's soft lips. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you out yesterday, Ash. Michelle filled me in on what exactly happened."
That was a reply Ash was not expecting, and he showed it quite vividly through his expression.
"Oh."
"And I just want you to know that, you don't have to defend me," she continued to elucidate, a tender hand reaching out to touch his. "No matter what the case may be."
He nodded in response, comprehending her calm words as they sunk in. It was a simple concept Ash accepted without any complications, yet there was a part of him that remained reluctant to agree. A point in which he usually asserted. "Yeah, but I couldn't just stand there and let him say that awful stuff about you," he argued swiftly. "It's not right."
"You're right, it's not okay...but I don't need you to act out too to make a point," she in return countered. "Ash, as kind and devoting it is of you to want to protect me- I still can't excuse how you handled the problem."
Another nod followed, processing it all before jumping the gun on defending his actions. After having a heartfelt discussion with Leah and the culpability weighing heavily on his chest, Ash could see the fault in his misconduct with the spicy burger. Undoubtedly, he was holding himself accountable without the need for Delia to intervene. Just imagining how Gary felt, the slight pain he experienced, the embarrassment... Ash wouldn't want to undergo anything on similar lines. But on the contrary, Gary had put him in plenty of uncomfortable situations- none in which Ash easily forgave him for.
A sigh and one more depressed nod was made. "I know. And I'm sorry, Mom. I really am," Ash assured, his lungs filling with passion on the subject. "He just- Gary just really pissed me off. I don't know what got into him, but for some reason he felt the need to attack me. Makes me wonder if I did anything..." Ash had pondered over such thoughts all day yesterday and into the morning. If anything, he was deeply dispirited by their altercation, and that it seemed Gary had reverted back to his old tricks again. For once, Ash was honestly convinced he and his old rival had made amends and could maybe start over with a brand new, clean slate. Possibly becoming friends if they were lucky...
Delia's bright eyes dimmed. "It doesn't matter, Ash. What Gary said was wrong and if he had an issue with you, he should have handled it differently," the woman preached, a full believer in this philosophy. "And that's what I want you to do now. To be-"
"The bigger person, I know." Ash had only heard that speech about a thousand times, making him wonder on how many occasions he messed up. How many affairs he put his mother in the same boat of repeating herself, feeling utterly beside herself as she tried patiently to work out all the kinks for her son's welfare. Now thinking too exceedingly over all the factors, a frustrated groan fell from Ash's throat. "Uggh, I just don't know if I can apologize to Gary," he confessed, rubbing his hands across his tired face. That was the hardest part to accept. "Not after what he said... But- I know that's what you want me to do."
From that, the mother's expression intensified. "It's not just that, Ash. Owning up to your mistakes is the right thing to do. But I don't want you to do it for me, I want you to do it for you," she made sure to install, considering the benefits of her son's growth were undeniably for Ash as he became a better and stronger man. Not for her own satisfaction as a parent. "You may not always understand now, but you will in the long run." Her eyes stern with maternal enforcement turned gentle as a tender reflection caught sight of Ash sinking lower into his seat. Watching him fall quiet, the look of guilt across his face... Delia didn't want to see him this way. She wanted to see that bright, brilliant expression that was so infectious no one could help but smile at. As of late, Delia was relieved to see that radiant side of her son more often. His Pokémon, his friends, and the journeys he so boldly took without a second thought and his devotion to his family...that was what made Ash.
That was proof alone to show how far he had come since those days of nightmares and endless wonders of acceptance. From him...
The creeping of a very weak smile flourished, and once again a hand was placed over that of the teenager's. "Honey," started Delia lovingly, stroking his fingers gently, "you've come so far. I just don't want to see you take a giant step back."
A giant step back... Ash didn't want that either and he quickly grasped the implication Delia was leaving him to assume. He wasn't the same lost, dejected, struggling kid he was back in elementary school who was grieving over the loss of his father. He had channeled his stubbornness into determination, welcomed his natural peppy side, and humbly forgave and accepted the reality in which he and his mother were unfairly placed in. Letting fate take the reins instead of intervening himself. There were days, however, when he did wonder about his dad. Those days were alive and well, though they weren't as frequent or as- resentful. More so than usual those thoughts, now dreams, were hopeful.
"I know," spoke Ash again, this time his voice lowered to a calmer tone. "And- and I hear ya. As much as I hate to admit it, I probably should make amends with Gary. Even if he doesn't apologize to me," he concluded, somewhat bitter about the fact.
Nevertheless Delia was pleased, and her smile only grew and she rose from her seat. "That's my boy," she said sweetly, coming over to him to place a ginger kiss against his messy midnight tresses. Then, as she pulled away, a hand playfully ruffled his strands of hair, cocking a cheeky eye as she did so. "But honestly Ash, I don't know how many times I have to tell you that it's not your job to defend me. I need to be the one looking out for you."
Ash chuckled innocently at this. "I can't help it, Mom," he shrugged. "You're my mom... you mean a lot to me."
What felt like a burst of warmth coagulated in Delia's heart, making it swell with appreciation only a devoted mother could feel. She resisted the urge to let a single tear slip. "You mean a lot to me too, pumpkin," she cooed, tousling his hair again before walking back to the other side of the table. That plastic bag still lay untouched and with apologies and understandings in order, the mother felt it was the perfect opportunity to reveal the big surprise.
"And because of that," she began playfully, reaching for the crinkled bag. "I thought I should be the first to tell you some big news before it broke out in town. Take a look."
With a swift pull, what appeared to Ash was a Pokémon league magazine, but it had been flipped through, the cover folded back to showcase an apparently significant page. Ash took it in his grasp with curiosity, and it transformed into lively enthusiasm the instant he read the bright bold letters stamped across the top. He nearly lost his breath from the sudden gasp shrieking from his throat.
"A-a n-new Pokémon Master?!" he proclaimed in both enthusiasm and amazement. A hand combed through his hair as his mind worked to process the phenomenal news, its announcement blowing his mind that words had difficultly being produced. "There- there hasn't been one in over fifty years!" he at last exclaimed, a great, merry laugh escaping from his vocal cords. "This is incredible! I can't believe it! So are the leagues gonna announce who it is or what?"
His sparkling excited eyes led up to Delia, who remained smiling as she now balanced a cup of coffee in her hands, one that she had abandoned earlier. "They plan to in a few weeks," she answered, leaning against the kitchen counter. "His or her name will be announced on T.V."
"A few weeks?" repeated Ash, eyes dramatically wide. Then, they dashed their way over to the floor. "Did you hear that Pikachu? We have a new Pokémon Master!"
Whether the electric rodent was able to comprehend human speech or not, he could tell his master was exhilarated with joy and chattered back equally as delighted. "Pi! Pikachu!" he replied cheerfully, his cheeks stuffed with organic pokechow.
Seeing his friend's similar elation, Ash's grin grew and he glanced back to his mom. "Wow, so we'll get to see it when it premieres?" he asked again, assuming the lavish event would air on television, similar to the actual league matches.
And Delia confirmed this between a sip. "Hmhm. I know how much becoming a master means to you, and well, you haven't been home in a while now and since you'll be here when it airs I thought that- that it would be special for us to watch it... together."
Together indeed. Without Delia's continuous support of his goals Ash didn't think he'd be as successful and cultured in the realm of Pokémon training as he was now. Delia's loving endorsement of his dreams meant everything, especially since she was the one who gave him the permission to go on a Pokémon journey- and provided all the care and essentials along the way.
Ash couldn't agree more.
"I'd like that, Mom," he replied with a softer smile. "Thanks for telling me about it. I'm gonna read the article right now!"
Hands sparked with eagerness sloppily pushed in his chair, having Ash start his glide across the kitchen floor and eventually head up to his bedroom in which Pikachu would join him later. But as he climbed the first couple of steps of the staircase, Delia froze him in his animated excursion.
"Uh, Ash?" she called from the kitchen entryway, just barely walking into the living room.
Ash indicated his attention by the hurried turn of his head, silently hoping she had more captivating developments to share with him.
"From what I read, they leaked the new master is from Kanto and because of that they're holding the ceremony at the Indigo Plateau," she disclosed, knowing that would be the icing on the cake for her aspiring Pokémon Master-in-the-making.
And it was.
"Seriously?!" he shouted in astonishment. Now he definitely had to read the article closely, and possibly a couple of times for the news to fully sink in. "Man, this is so awesome! I can't believe the master is from our region! It would be amazing to actually meet him or her in real life!" he couldn't resist saying, knowing in the back of his jolted mind that he wished for that dream to come true.
"Well, who knows? Maybe you will one day," Delia responded encouragingly, which only furthered her son's natural gleeful glow. "Enjoy the magazine, sweetie."
"I will. Thanks again, Mom!"
The sound of excitable, pounding footsteps made their way up the stairs, prompting Delia to head back into the kitchen. Only in this instance, she was caught off-guard by an unanticipated beckoning.
"And uh- Mom?" Spinning back around, Delia met Ash's gaze once more as he stood in the middle of the stairwell. A very sheepish and promising grin seeped from his lips. "I won't let you down again."
Then, he was off to his room, the sound of his door slamming shut indicating he was at last there.
Delia's heart, and this time mind, filled with euphoria of pride and motherly adoration. Releasing a faint sigh, Delia held the steaming cup of dark rich liquid with a splash of raspberry cream close to her chest. Her eyes stayed fixated on the empty stairwell. The pooling of faint, joyful tears began.
You could never let me down, Ash.