It's been too long since I updated this story. My time-consuming new job and the stress of the pandemic aside, the main thing stopping me from writing more these days has been my ongoing mental health issues, and although I do try, I can't always find the passion and drive I need to work on a story as important to me as this. I hope the next update will not take long, but in any case, I'm very grateful to everyone who has stuck with Hidden Power all the way so far. Your feedback and support means the world to me.
CHAPTER 8: The Battle to the Beginning
"HE WAS WHERE?!"
Granted, the night Misty had spent on the floor at Indigo Labs had not left her in the best of moods to begin with (not that she'd been obligated to sleep there – but who would she be if she left Psyduck alone after what had happened?), and the fact that Brock had shown up at the crack of dawn to check on her, his good intentions notwithstanding, didn't help matters in the slightest. But then, of course, he'd proceeded to fill her in on the whereabouts of one mysteriously M.I.A. Ash Ketchum the previous day, and that was when she knew, once and for all, that she'd truly had all she could take.
"Eyuugh!" she winced as she entered the apartment. A musty stench of stale alcohol hung in the air like smog, so overpowering that for a brief second she considered hurling a chair through the wide penthouse window just to dispel it. With increasing sickness, she followed the ghastly odour, trusting her nose to guide her across the room and along the lavish corridor to her left…even though she had a pretty good idea already of where it was taking her.
"Ash, open up!" she yelled through the keyhole of his bedroom door.
From behind the varnished oak, the boy's response came within the second:
"Zzzzzzzzz…zzzzzzzzzzzz…"
"I mean it, Ash!" she reiterated. "You do NOT want to push me today!"
"ZZZZZZZZZZ…"
The door clattered open with one furious heel kick, revealing a vaguely Ash-shaped mass crumpled up on the king-size mattress like a beached tentacool. His duvet was completely wrapped around his left leg, which dangled flaccidly off the side of the bed, and his comically misshapen cap hung from his ear by the strap at the back.
"Oh, jeez," Misty coughed, leaping over to open the window as wide as it could go. "ASH! GET! UP!"
When even this failed, she reached to her belt and unclipped a pokéball. "Politoed, Water Gun."
"Waaaahhbluggrrbblllrrgrllrr!"
Drenched and freezing, Ash's eyes opened with the ferocious speed of a pidgeot in flight. Even through the buffeting he was taking, it was clear that he was still in a deep, deep daze.
"Politoed, Politoed!" clapped his jubilant rouser at the foot of the bed. Misty shook her head and returned it to its pokéball.
"Misty, what the hell?!" he gurgled, sitting up and wringing out his shirt. "Owww, my head…"
"You know damn well what the hell, Ash Ketchum!" she bellowed. The dishevelled Ash clutched his scalp in agony.
"Aaaaargh! Misty, quit yelling, p-please!"
"Aww, what's wrong, does poor Ashy have a sore head?" snarled Misty with corrosive sarcasm. "I wonder what could have caused that, hmm?"
He squinted his eyes in thought. "Huh? I can't…ugh…c-can't remember…"
"Well, isn't that a surprise!" she laughed sardonically. "Not that it matters, anyway; Brock told me everything already. And while you were busy living it up yesterday, or whatever you call it, the rest of us had our hands full protecting Psyduck from a Team Rocket attack!"
"Wait, Team Rocket attacked the lab?" Ash moaned with some semblance of urgency. "Is Psyduck alright?"
"If you cared, you'd have been there protecting him with us," she said coldly. "You know what? I don't even know why I came here. Just…go back to sleep."
With a laboured exhale, the redhead callously turned her back.
"Misty – ugghrrp – wait," Ash hiccoughed.
"And take a shower. For Mew's sake, it stinks in here," she sniped over her shoulder.
Despite the sudden urge to vomit, Ash threw himself forward across the bed and grabbed onto Misty's wrist before she could leave the room.
"No, Misty, don't go!" he wheezed. "I can explain if you just…uughgh…give me a second…"
It was against her better judgement, for sure. But, out of pure morbid curiosity, Misty stopped in her tracks and gruffly nodded her head, anxious to see what the boy could come up with in this sorry state. As it turned out, not very much at all.
"That's it?" she scoffed.
"No!" Ash panted. "I mean, er, yes! I mean…ohhh man, my head…"
She rolled her eyes. "Forget it. I'm sorry I asked."
There'd be no getting through to him today, she thought as she banged the door shut behind her and stomped towards the exit. What little he had managed to recall was nothing Brock hadn't already told her, and by the end his words had devolved into little more than a hiccupping yawn. She'd never known him to act like this; what was going on with him? That alone was sufficient to rile her up for the rest of the day – but to top it all off, the perceptive gym leader was certain that neither Brock nor Ash had given her the whole story…
13 hours ago…
"Shtupid…in'erfering…wivvis brond hair'n – hic! – fanshypansh shirt…"
With his one open eye, Ash clumsily manoeuvred the empty glass in his hand back onto the damp bar in front of him.
"I mean, whassho special 'bout himg?" he belched towards an increasingly frustrated bartender. "Wassee got that I hazhn't, huuuggh?"
To his left, Pikachu, so bored that not even the ketchup bottle he was propped up against held any interest for him, let out a long and irritated yawn.
"Chuuuu," he groaned sleepily.
At that moment, the television above the bar flipped over to an historic Indigo League highlights reel, cycling through every championship battle of the last two decades. Ash's eyes lit up – at least, as best they could in his present condition.
"Hzey, I know that guy!" he cried, almost punching the bartender as he pointed towards the screen. "Tha's Lanssh, the Poeon'eague Championnn! Man, yousszz gotta hear 'bout the time he caughhlat red gyarrdosss…"
The man straightened his bowtie and inhaled decisively. "Sir, I think it's time for you to-"
"Ash?"
A bright flash of orange sunlight swept right through the dimly lit building as the front door burst wide open. What was originally a look of genuine concern on the face of the man standing in the doorway turned almost instantly to complete exasperation.
"Oh, for the love of…" sighed Brock, stepping up to the bar. "Ash, what the hell do you think you're-"
"Bvoocck!" the inebriated young man cheered when his older friend approached him. He then looked back to the barman. "Thishisszhe guy I was tellinguu about b'fore! Iszn't that cyazy?"
The pokémon doctor shot an apologetic glance over to Pikachu (who was eyeing his pokéball on Ash's belt with worrying desperation), before turning Ash around to face him.
"Ash, how much have you…" Thinking better of it, he decided to redirect the question to the flustered man behind the bar. "How much has he had?"
"A lot," he sighed defeatedly, holding up two empty spirit bottles. "Let's just say these were full when he came in."
"Oh maaan, thatzhsum gooood stuff!" Ash chuckled. When Brock noticed the pikachu label on each of the bottles, he certainly didn't need to ask what had possessed him to give them a try.
"I was actually just about to show him out," the bartender explained rather trustingly to Brock.
The man nodded in understanding. "Don't worry, I'll look after him now," he said, pressing a couple of banknotes down on the bar. "Here, for your trouble."
"Much obliged, sir," the barman smiled as he turned to leave.
"In fact," Brock stopped him, handing him another note, "can I get a pitcher of water over here, please?" He looked back at the silently giggling Ash. "And a large cappuccino."
"I don't yike coffrhee," Ash whined as the steaming beverage appeared before him.
"I don't care," his friend replied matter-of-factly. "Drink."
At Brock's insistence, not another word was spoken until Ash had drank three full glasses of water and half of his piping hot coffee. Fifteen minutes later, the pokémon trainer, though still very drunk indeed, was at least able to sustain a conversation.
"So, you wanna tell me just what you're playing at?" Brock asked.
Ash's brow furrowed. "What? What's the big deal?" he exclaimed. "This is where aaaaaaall the League battlers hang out. I mean – hic – look at it!"
Even Brock had to admit that the venue suited his pokémon-obsessed friend right down to the ground. Known as The Challenger's Rest, this sprawling bar was the ultimate shrine to the Pokémon League, with framed photographs and memorabilia lining the walls, pokémon-inspired cocktails, and even an arcade section in the far corner styled after the famous Indigo League tournament. As soon as he'd tracked Delia's borrowed pokégear to the famous spot in the central plaza, Brock assumed he'd find Ash drooling over all of the decades-old Pokémon League history housed there. And although that may well have been what had drawn him in to begin with, it very clearly wasn't why he had stayed.
"I'm not talking about the place, Ash," Brock stated. "I'm talking about you. You're drunk."
"Drunk?!" Ash let out a wet chuckle. "Nah I'm not! I only came in here for lunch and then I saw this awesome pikachu drink, hehe…I was gunna get back to training in a minute!"
His bloodshot eyes narrowed while struggling to focus on Brock. "Heyyyy…shouldn't you be at the lab?"
Brock's mouth fell open. "I finished hours ago, Ash. It's 6:48," he stated. "You're telling me you've been here since midday?!"
"I have?" he hiccupped. "Whooooa. Man, where'd that time go, huh, Pikachu?"
"Pika," came a cantankerous grunt from his left.
"Okay, that's it," said Brock, standing up. "Come on, I'm taking you back to the apartment."
"Wha…?" Ash whined. "Uh-uh, I don't wanna!"
"I wasn't asking," he clarified as he took hold of the boy's arm. "Move."
The gorgeous orange sky had a way of waking Ash up somewhat as soon as the pair stepped out of the building and into the plaza. Brock, still holding onto the stumbling Ash's arm, shook his head at the curious looks he was receiving from bewildered passersby.
"Show me the way to go hoooome," sang Ash through burbling laughter. "I'm tired and I want to go to…hey wait, no, I don't wanna go home! Leggo of me!"
Brock turned to meet Ash's fluctuating gaze. "Are you ready to tell me what's up with you?"
"Huuuh? Nothing's up, Brock, I'm fiiine!"
"Right then, home it is."
"Aawwwwww!"
Truthfully, Brock already had a pretty good idea of what had reduced the boy to this uncharacteristically sorry state. He'd suspected ever since he first became aware of the situation himself, as he knew Ash, and he knew Misty – probably better than they knew themselves. As they passed a street full of clothes stores and restaurants, a strangely familiar giggle made its way over to Ash's ears. Brock noticed too – mainly because Ash's lightning-fast body twist had pulled him along with it – and this gave him an idea. A little 'perverse psychology', as his friend would so eloquently put it.
"Hey, that reminds me," he commented as casually as he could manage, "weren't you training with Misty today? I was expecting to find both of you together after I left the lab."
As he knew it would, the remark really seemed to nark his naïve young friend. Ash stopped in place and made a peculiar noise halfway between a hiccup and a growl.
"Yeeeah, right," he snorted. "She's far too busy wiv that architect chump."
"Architect?" asked Brock in continuation of the charade.
"Aaaaadrian," he mimicked in a sloppy high-pitched voice. "You met him?"
"I haven't." This was true, at least. Though from what Professor Cairn had told him about the man's visit to the lab the previous evening, Brock knew immediately that something ugly was going to escalate out of this. "Have you?"
Ash coughed unexpectedly. "Well, erm, noooo…but he's such a jerk!"
With a slight chuckle, Brock directed Ash's stumbling frame down onto a park bench on the outskirts of the plaza. Sitting down beside him, he cleared his throat gently.
"Now, Ash, how do you know that if you haven't even met the guy?"
And, as Brock leant back and listened to his former travelling companion talk…and talk…and talk…the oranges of the Indigo Plateau sky darkened by a shade or two over the best part of an hour they must have been there. Ash, wired and full of things to say, didn't even cut off his drunken tirade when his friend went to buy him a pretzel from a nearby food cart. Brock had hoped it would help to sober him up– or, at least, shut him up – but the boy carried on, angrily munching the warm dough while continuing to repeat his scant complaints over and over again. When the slightest pause appeared in-between bites, Brock decided he'd heard quite enough and moved to reclaim the conversation.
"Can I say something now?"
With a mouthful of pretzel, Ash clumsily shrugged his consent.
Brock clasped his hands together. "Okay, look, Ash," he began, "you've been acting really strangely these last couple of days. In twelve years, I've never known you shirk your training to sit and get yourself blind drunk in a bar. Or drink at all, for that matter!"
A burbling little chuckle could be heard amongst Ash's ravenous chewing.
"And, more worryingly, since when do you talk so spitefully about anyone – let alone someone you've never even met?"
"But he has got stupid hair!" Ash reiterated insistently.
"Cut it out," Brock ordered with fatherly calmness. "This isn't you, Ash. You're not nasty, and you don't run away from your problems like this."
When Ash said nothing, he continued in his next breath. "Have you ever thought that it's not Adrian you don't like, but the fact that Misty's gotten quite friendly with him?"
"No, don't like him," Ash pouted like a child. "He suuuucks. Misty can do whatever she wants, I don't care."
"Yes, you do," he sighed. "Come on now, be honest with me: are you jealous that Misty's spending a lot of her time with Adrian lately and not you?"
Ash clenched his fist around the balled-up pretzel wrapper and looked down at his feet.
"She's s'posed to be my best friend!" he suddenly cried out. "Where'd this Adrian guy come from, huh? I never get to see Misty 'cause I'm always travelling, and now I'm here she's all skipping out on me and going on dates and stuff! What gives?!"
Dates? Brock thought to himself. Perhaps there was more to this Adrian than he was aware of. Still, if he knew Misty…
"Ash, you and Misty are always going to be best friends," he said with total certainty. "Adrian's not going to replace you, silly. You mean far too much to Misty for that to ever happen."
"But I think Misty like likes him!" Ash whined desperately. "That's just…NO, right?! She should like…I mean, erm, I thought I…"
Brock's eyes lit up in surprise. Though it had been his goal all along, he still hadn't expected Ash to open up like this.
"Wait a minute," he interjected, "are you saying you want to be…"
"Misty's my favourite person in the whole world!" Ash continued to divulge. "Well, apart from Mom. B-But then it's Misty! I knooow we're best friends, but – hic! – then some random dude shows up and gets all close with her and…ugh…I just don' wanna be her second favourite, Brock! Does that make sense?"
His words struck a chord deep within his friend's chest. These were things that Ash had never admitted, nor would ever admit, in a normal frame of mind. And while he wasn't the most subtle of people to the outside world, hearing the boy himself put his behaviour into such honest words was both a gratifying and soul-crushing surprise.
"Yeah, buddy," Brock nodded, a smile of pure sympathy on his face, "it really does."
Ash then sprung up from his seat, stumbling a little before catching himself at the last second. "What am I gonna do?"
Getting up also, Brock looked him in the eye. "Well, I'll tell you what you're not going to do," he said. "You're not going to skip your training and spend any more time feeling sorry for yourself, got it?" He nodded floppily.
"And tomorrow, you're going to find Misty and tell her exactly how left out you've been feeling."
No response came, causing Brock to raise an eyebrow. "Uh, Ash?"
"Ugghrp," Ash hiccoughed, his cheeks puffing out. "I don't feel so good…" He then dizzily turned around and spewed a tidal wave of vomit down onto the lamplit roadside.
"Pi ka chuuu," grimaced Pikachu, leaping immediately off his trainer's shoulder. Brock, shaking his head, patted his friend on the back and swivelled him round towards the path.
"First things first, though," he calmly said, "I'm taking you home."
"Ugh…y-yeaahh…" Ash panted as he allowed Brock to lead him back to the apartment.
Until they had reached the penthouse, the two old friends did not say another word to each other. Only when Ash collapsed down on his bed and squashed his face into the pillow did he open his mouth to speak again.
"Heyy…Brock?" he called out, his eyes shut tight.
"Mhm?" he answered.
"What if I can't," – he yawned – "can't face Mistyyy tomorrow? I'unno if I've…got the power…"
By the petering out of his voice, Brock could tell that Ash had fallen fast asleep by the end of his sentence. Well, that and the snoring. Pulling the blankets up to the boy's shoulders, he stood up straight and sighed a twelve-year-old sigh.
"You'd be amazed by the power you're capable of when you're in love, Ash," he muttered in the darkness.
Brock looked at his watch. 8:25pm. Ash would likely be out until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest – if Misty didn't get to him first, that was. It was doubtful that he'd remember anything they'd discussed tonight, but Brock held out hope that some of it would linger around in his mind, at least enough to get him to talk this out with Misty. Mew only knew what trouble would lie ahead for them if that long-awaited confession didn't come to light soon.
He and Pikachu stopped before leaving the building to look out of the penthouse window, taking in the whole of twilight Indigo Plateau. Something caught his eye not far away; a trail of black smoke rising up into the air, and the faintest of screams from fleeing people nearby. Grabbing his coat, he flew out of the door like a rampaging rhydon and smacked open the entrance to the stairwell in the hall. He recognised the area immediately: it was Indigo Labs.
The following afternoon…
Misty stomped through the plaza, trying as best she could to get that pathetic image of her best friend that morning out of her head.
"Yeah, sure he just tried it because there was a pikachu on it," she growled to herself. "That's why he got through two full bottles of the stuff, is it? Brock, you must think I'm so stupid…"
Upon arriving at a park away from the town centre, she checked her pokégear, discovering that, for once, she wasn't early at all, much less fashionably so. The person she was meeting, however, was right on time, as she'd expected.
"H-Hi, Misty," mumbled Adrian, his head bowed slightly.
Misty looked the man up and down, picking up on the bags under his eyes and the chalkiness of his skin.
"Adrian, you look terrible," she gasped. "What's wrong?"
"I…" He cut himself off and looked away. By the strain on his face, he almost looked to be on the verge of tears. "I'm so s-sorry."
She cocked her head. "For what?"
"Last night, wh-when I…I mean, if I hadn't…and T-Timburr…"
"Hold on," she said as she pieced it together. "You haven't been beating yourself up this whole time about the battle with Team Rocket, have you?"
He shrugged awkwardly. "I…guess I didn't sleep s-so good last night," he admitted. "I just, well, feel so terrible…"
Sighing, Misty took a step closer to her friend, her neck craned at an almost ninety-degree angle to maintain eye contact.
"Oh, Adrian," she began with a sigh, "look, I know you're a nervous person, and that was probably a totally new situation for you, so please don't blame yourself. I know you did your best."
"Yeah, right," he whimpered.
"Stop, okay? We still beat them, and nobody got hurt; everything's fine! You didn't let me or anyone else down, you hear me? Now you say it." She took his hand, causing him to blush the deepest of reds.
"U-Uhhh…" he breathed heavily, "I d-didn't let you down?"
"Or anyone else?"
"Or anyone e-else."
Smiling, she moved away, still holding onto his hand. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
The poor man seemed too flustered to talk, and so a brief silence fell upon the two. It was not uncomfortable, though, or, at least, not to Misty. For while he couldn't seem to look her in the eye for too long, each little glimpse she got of that silky russet shade brought her a profound feeling of comfort, the kind she used to live for during her journey with…
"Well, it if isn't Misty and the Mystery Man!"
They stepped apart, turning to face the noise that had almost shattered the glass of the streetlight above them. Adrian, still blushing like mad, barely reacted, but Misty felt her skin beginning to crawl on sight – and didn't do much to hide it, either.
"Where do you keep coming from?" she spat before she could stop herself.
"Nice to see you, too!" Macy giggled, clearly expecting such a reaction. She then noticed the blush on Adrian's face. "Hey, I'm not interrupting something, am I?"
"Yes. We were talking," said Adrian, uncharacteristically bluntly.
She giggled again. "Ooh, what about? Is there gossip? Come on, Misty, gimme the dirt!"
Sidling up to Adrian, Macy batted her eyelashes manipulatively. "You'll tell me, won't you, handsome?"
Misty closed her eyes for a second to try and calm herself. "We were talking about what happened at the lab last night," she said as plainly as she could. "Something we were quite capable of dealing with ourselves, thank you very much."
"Ha! Sure didn't look like it," Macy snorted. "You guys were all over the place! If I hadn't shown up, Pretty Boy here would be sitting crying in a corner while you punched holes in every wall from here to the Hoenn region, am I right?"
Fresh anger burned deep within the redhead's chest. "Macy, I swear to god…" she whispered through her gritted teeth.
"Guess it's just as well Ashy and I cut off our hot date early yesterday, or you'd REALLY have been in trouble!"
At this point, it wouldn't have taken much for Misty to crack regardless of what the infuriating girl had said. But, true or not, that remark had crossed a fatal number of lines.
"THAT'S IT!" she screamed, leaping a few yards away and reaching for a pokéball. "You want a fight, I'll give you one! You and me, right now!"
Adrian, startled and a little afraid, instinctively stepped back so as not to be caught in the crossfire. Macy winked at him before assuming the same pose as her challenger.
"Well, I wasn't hinting at a battle," she shrugged in amusement, "but sure, let's do it!"
Misty detached a red sphere from her belt. "One on one," she commanded. "If I win, I don't wanna hear another wiseass comment out of you for the rest of the tournament! Or, better yet, just leave me alone."
"Whoa! I didn't realise this was a high stakes game!" Macy laughed, clearly enjoying every moment. "Fine, fine. And if I win?"
Her opponent shot daggers at her from across the grass. "That's not going to happen."
On the sidelines, Adrian had begun to fidget more than usual. Should I be trying to break this up right now? he agonised over more and more as the confrontation went on. In the end, all he could do was watch as Macy rose to Misty's challenge by producing her own pokéball.
"Ooooh, dramatic," she squealed teasingly. "Okay then; Magcargo, go!"
Misty knew she'd pick Magcargo. Her prize fighter it may have been, the fire- and rock-type stood no chance against Misty's water pokémon. And in the mood she was in, losing was not an option.
Without the usual ceremony, she silently threw her own pokéball into the 'arena', where it burst open and loosed her chosen battler.
"Luv!" cried Caserin as the light around him dissipated.
"Sweet, a luvdisc," Macy commented. "Hey, what's with that weird colour?"
Misty didn't have to look far to see what she meant, for the oddity in question lay right in front of her face. Caserin's glowing was back, although this time its hue was slightly different; paler and more intermittent, as if a certain 'indecision' hung around it. The pokémon's habit had only happened thus far in the presence of two people – namely, herself and Ash. But there were three here, and Ash wasn't among them.
"Caserin, use Water Gun!" she began, ignoring the question.
"Dodge, Magcargo, and use Body Slam!" Macy ordered the second after.
The water that fired from Caserin's mouth was, like his glowing, not consistent at all. It alternated between a measly trickle and a powerful torrent, like liquid belching from the neck of an upturned bottle. All it took was one long bout of the former for Magcargo to slip by the attack and deliver its own.
"Diiiiiiisc!" squealed Caserin as the Body Slam sunk him into the earth. He popped back up, shaking himself off and still glowing that strangely 'off' colour.
"Good job, Magcargo," Macy praised. "Flamethrower!"
"Agility, Caserin!"
The flame swept from left to right, but the nimble love heart proved too quick for its scorching arc.
"Ice Beam!" said Misty. She wasn't usually this discourteous to her pokémon, but already, this battle was asking a lot of her. She was positively shaking with anger.
"Don't make it easy for them, Magcargo," Macy encouraged. "Use Double Team!"
The molten snail's shell shone a bright white, and from it sprouted a few dozen clones, each in an identical battle pose.
"Hit them all, Caserin!" Misty panted. "Sweep it around!"
At first, the attack seemed to mimic the Flamethrower that Caserin had so carefully avoided. The beam of ice shot out of his mouth and washed over the battlefield, taking out a number of the fake Magcargo. Less than halfway across, Caserin began to shake uncomfortably, and before it could reach the real thing, his Ice Beam fizzled out into a mere flurry of snowflakes.
"What the…" Misty sharply inhaled. "Caserin, what's going on?!"
"I thought you said you wanted to win?" Macy sang with a self-assured smirk.
"Stop taunting her!" yelled Adrian, again with a strange conviction.
She puffed out her bottom lip at him. "Aww, I thought you were rooting for meeeee," she blubbed mockingly. "Mystery Man's a big meanie!"
"It's Adrian," he grunted, his face heating up a little.
Throughout this brief back-and-forth, Misty couldn't help but notice that Caserin had not only stopped shaking, but the glow around him was now both stable and brilliant. The timing was interesting, to say the least. Of course, she knew what it usually signified, to her embarrassment – but with she, Adrian and Macy all thrown into the mix here, who was it her little luvdisc's habit applied to?
"Ice Beam again!" she shouted, taking advantage of the moment. Caserin, its body bristling with energy, blasted a formidable surge of frigid light right towards his opponent.
"Well, better late than never," Macy chortled to herself. "Okay, Magcargo, push it back with Flamethrower!"
The two attacks collided in mid-air, respectively melting and freezing each other with unrelenting force.
"Caaaaargooo," heaved Magcargo as the Ice Beam briefly engulfed it.
"Don't you give up now, buddy!" cried Macy. "Keep pushing!"
With the backing from its trainer, Magcargo's flame jet swelled twofold, devouring through the ice that stood in its way. At the same time, Caserin's glow was beginning to fade once again.
"No, Caserin, what are you doing?!" Misty screamed. "You can't stop!"
The dying light around him turned a sort of speckled texture, and on his tiny face was ingrained a look of great strife.
"Come on!" she pleaded. Her face was flushed, her fists clenched, and her eyes had even begun to water. She would not lose this. She couldn't…
"Almost there, Magcargo!" said Macy as the flame continued to reach forwards.
"Luuuuuv…!" Caserin wailed, its attack power draining by the second.
"Caserin!" Misty bellowed in desperation. Just as the last of the Ice Beam's intregrity crumbled away, her helpless pokémon was wreathed in the heat of Magcargo's high-levelled flame attack. And though not very effective, it certainly served to hinder its already compromised target.
"Luuv…diii…" he murmured dizzily, struggling to keep his eyes open. The position made him a sitting ducklett for Macy's next move.
"Alright! Now, Magcargo, finish with one last Body Slam!"
"Magcaaaarrrrr…" the Lava Pokémon leapt up into the air, "goooo!"
"Ahhh!" Misty yelped, horrified to see her faithful friend squashed down into a heart-shaped divot beneath the amorphous mollusc. When Magcargo got back up, it was clear to even the most unobservant of spectators that Caserin was unable to battle.
"Woohoo!" cheered Macy, running to hug her pokémon. "We did it!"
Adrian clapped a hand to his mouth in shock. Without a word, Misty returned Caserin to his pokéball, an overwhelming light-headedness taking hold of her.
"U-Uhh…"
Her opponent hopped to her feet and giggled triumphantly. "Well, I guess that settles it," she concluded. "Macy is here to stay, baby!"
Stepping forwards, she held out her hand. "No hard feelings, huh, Misty?"
Everything was blurry behind the tears that filled the redhead's eyes. Her head was splitting, and her limbs felt sore and heavy. This loss had been the last straw. The final straw.
Before the rest of her composure could leave her, Misty whooshed around and tore away as fast as her tired legs could take her, straight back into the plaza and onward still without ever looking back. There was only one place she wanted to be right now – and it certainly wasn't here.
"M-Misty…" Adrian murmured as he watched the crying girl shrink into the distance. He then turned to Macy with angry hurt etched right across his face. "Are you happy now?"
To his surprise, the young woman no longer wore her signature look of cockiness, but a concerned frown, almost identical to his. When she only sighed in response, he rolled his eyes and began to run in the direction Misty had gone.
"Whoa there, champ," Macy stopped him with a tug of his arm. Shards of guilt splintered her formerly confident voice. "I…think we ought to give the girl some space right now."
"USELESS, PATHETIC HALFWITS!"
The videophone screen was dashed with specks of angry spittle, obscuring the man producing them more and more with each passing syllable.
"Sir, I can explain," Cassidy interjected through the payphone receiver.
"The pair of you were hand-picked for this vital mission," Giovanni grumbled. "Your task could not have been more straightforward. And yet, your blundering about at Indigo Labs yesterday has now alerted the entire Pokémon League to our intentions!" He slammed his fist down on the table. "It could be months until another operation like this is possible!"
Butch grabbed the receiver from his teammate. "It wasn't our fault, sir!" he grovelled. "If those nincompoops Jessie and James hadn't been try'na steal our thunder…"
"I'm not interested in your excuses, Mulch! Because of your failure, security around Indigo Plateau will be tighter than ever before, and the last thing we need is for that pious fool Lance and his insufferable G-Men to start poking around."
The Team Rocket leader watched as the tiresome duo repeatedly passed the receiver back and forward between each other, both clearly not wanting to be the one to have to respond. Eventually, Cassidy, rolling her eyes, smacked Butch over the head with the phone and then held it urgently to her ear.
"We won't fail you again, Boss," she plainly assured him.
"How right you are," he concurred, "because I'm taking you both off this assignment. And if you see those imbeciles Jessie and James…" he leant forward in his chair, "tell them to stay out of my sight."
The screen turned black, and Giovanni brought a hand up to massage the throbbing vein in his temple.
"Cretins, all of them," he hissed.
"If I may say so, sir," Matori chimed in, "I do wonder why you keep them around."
He turned to face her. "That, Matori, will be written in my obituary."
When the videophone began to ring again, the irritated man snatched the receiver up immediately, squeezing it in an alarmingly firm grip.
"What now?!" he growled.
"Apologies for interrupting, sir," droned Professor Sebastian as his listless face appeared on the screen, "but I believe I have made an important discovery regarding the substance recovered from the Indigo Courthouse."
Giovanni calmed considerably. "Good," he exhaled. "I'm on my way."
The Rocket HQ's testing area was a huge, dome-shaped room, its every surface tiled with bluish grey metal panels. In the centre of the floor was a small podium of sorts, upon which sat a strange metallic sphere, and framing the space were huddles of pokémon hailing from regions all across the world. There must have been at least a hundred – and no two were of the same species.
"What is this?" inquired Giovanni from the control room overlooking the area.
"Allow me to explain," said Sebastian. "The substance is encased in a highly conductive capsule, on which I have performed a number of basic elemental tests. Exposure to heat, cold and electricity yielded no results, and, interestingly, I am unable to confirm whether the material is organic or inorganic in nature."
"Is that it?" grimaced the incredulous man. "You brought me all the way down here to tell me that?"
"Not so, sir," he shook his head. "Those tests were just standard procedure. The breakthrough I have made required me to be considerably more creative in my methods." He pulled a lever on the console in front of him. "Observe."
From the ceiling, a mechanical arm unfolded downwards towards the middle of the test area. Stopping just above the podium, three curved 'brackets' of sorts assembled themselves from the tip of the arm, resting loosely around the sphere's surface like an arcade claw. A peculiar rumbling then resonated out from the device, giving forth a sound that defied all earthly definition. Paradoxical in its intricate mundanity, it both soothed and distressed; enchanted, yet utterly repulsed. And through this ambivalence cut the most ferocious of headaches in the unprepared Giovanni.
"Urghmm," he endured, his scalp seething. "Sebastian, what's going on?"
"Just a bit longer," the professor muttered.
Within seconds, the sphere had begun to glow a mesmerising blue, identical to the colour seen in the soil Jessie and James had dug up from the Cerulean gym. Though the pokémon in the dome were entranced by its hue, only a few dozen had dared to venture forward and approach the shining object. Among them, an abra, a spoink, a bronzong, a drowzee, a beldum, a sigilyph…
"Notice anything, sir?" Sebastian prompted.
Perhaps owing to his excruciating headache, it took a few moments for Giovanni to pick up on the pattern. "They're all…psychic pokémon."
"Precisely."
The device powered down with a push of a button, and Giovanni, after shaking off the remnants of his discomfort, took a cautious step closer to the glass.
"What did you do to it?" he asked.
Sebastian chuckled expressionlessly. "A psychic pokémon's mind is a source of unspeakable power. Once they reach maturity, they can see all that was, all that is, and all that will be. It is more than you or I could ever hope to fully comprehend."
"Speak plainly, Professor," Giovanni tutted.
"The sound you have just heard is not meant for human ears. Our technology can only approximate how psychic pokémon perceive and navigate their reality. By isolating neural information from the most powerful psychic specimen on Team Rocket's database and transposing it into soundwaves, I believe I have managed to, in a sense, communicate with the pokémon that produced the substance."
"The psyduck?"
"Quite possibly, sir."
Giovanni stroked his chin. "To what specimen are you referring?"
The sheen of his spectacles obscured the look in Sebastian's eyes. "The only unnamed organism in our records, as it happens. The file was badly corrupted, and rebuilding it was a painstaking process. Regrettably, I have no information aside from the file's designation: MT-1."
A short pause elapsed.
"MT-1 is classified above Level 7," Giovanni explained. "I wasn't aware you had that kind of clearance, Professor Sebastian."
The emotionless man cleared his throat. "Sir, please be aware that everything I do within these walls is in the best interest of Team Rocket," he sidestepped. "Restoring the file was paramount to my research, and now, acquisition of the target is all but assured."
"And why is that?"
"Exposing the material to psychic soundwaves will allow me to activate its dormant residual energy whenever I choose. If this energy is still linked to the host organism, I should quite easily be able to track the whereabouts of not only the host itself, but everyone and everything that has been in contact with it."
Giovanni weighed up this hypothesis for a minute in his mind. Though his operatives' fumble had still set his plans back quite significantly, it was, at least, refreshing to see a sliver of good fortune come his way.
"Very well," he simply said as he turned to leave. "Report to me immediately with any further developments."
The door hissed shut behind him, and, placing his hands calmly behind his back, Professor Sebastian refocussed his attention on a hidden screen that appeared on his voice command.
"How much time humanity wastes flapping its gums," he snarled to himself. "Sitting up there, scheming and negotiating, while I am forced to carry out my vital work at a slugma's pace. Well…"
His cold eyes focussed on the screen, which displayed several blue dots roaming around a virtual map of Indigo Plateau. With intrigue, he noticed one isolated right out on the rural outskirts of the city, and another whizzing across the middle of the map towards the epicentre of the energy, Indigo Labs. The corner of his mouth formed the slightest of smiles.
"This time, things are going to play out a little differently."
Clang! went the dropped toolbox across the laboratory floor, its unwieldy contents spilling out in all directions.
"Ayeee," winced Cairn with increasing anxiety. "Please, do be careful around this equipment!" he pleaded, his head on a swivel. "Um, sir? Sir? That machine is worth more than this entire building, so can you kindly find somewhere else to rest that sledgehammer of yours? Much appreciated!"
For close to two hours now had the docile man been fighting this losing battle. He knew it had to be done, but the ruckus they were creating was more than a little mind-numbing. It wouldn't be so bad if the big galoots had taken him seriously for even a second of that time.
"Dear me," he sighed as he stepped out into the afternoon sun. "What I wouldn't give for some semblance of normalcy right n- OOF!"
The breath in his lungs was squeezed out of him in a split second. Catching himself just before he fell backwards, he looked down at his chest to see a young girl gripping him like a vice and sobbing her eyes out.
"Misty?" he gasped. "Oh my word, whatever's the matter?"
She didn't even try to answer, her eyes shut tight against his lab coat.
"There, there," he whispered as he gently patted her head, "everything's going to be alright…"
They stayed like that for several more seconds, a tranquillity broken jarringly by a harsh metallic smacking sound from within the lab.
"Come with me," Cairn smiled down at her. "I think this ought to cheer you up a little."
The small part of the lab that was above ground featured a huge window in its back wall, starting from waist height and reaching up to a good foot or two above Misty and Professor Cairn's heads. It looked down into Psyduck's room, which, currently, bore very little resemblance to how it was just hours ago.
"They arrived just a little while after you left this morning," he explained. "After the break-in last night, I simply couldn't stand for this shoddy level of security any longer, so I emailed the Pokémon League demanding something be done."
The pair sat down on a low wall, watching the dozens of workers below clatter about with all manner of cables and scaffolding.
"I was surprised by how quickly they agreed to my requests," he continued, "but then, I suppose it's still a shame that something like this has to happen before the powers that be are prepared to lift a finger."
Through the window, Misty could see a man kneeling by a doorframe with a high-tech welder in his hands. The sparks it threw up were quite a spectacular sight.
"They're putting hand scanners on every door in the building," Cairn said as he followed the girl's gaze. "I'll see to it that yourself, Brock and Ash have full access at all times. I'm also told that a security detail will be guarding the front entrance twenty-four hours a day, starting this evening." He laughed. "Believe it or not, I can be pretty insistent when I want to be."
Though still rather teary, Misty seemed to have found her voice at last, giving a shaky little clear of her throat.
"Where is Psyduck?" she mumbled.
"I moved him to a smaller room on the next floor down, just while all this is going on. He should be alright in the meantime…though I fear I can't say the same for my other equipment…"
"How long will it take?"
"Just a day or two, I've been led to believe. That said, Pokémon League manual workers don't usually work on Sundays, so I'm hesitant to push my luck asking them any more questions."
Cairn looked to his right, sighing sadly at the sight of his young friend's tear-streaked face.
"Now, then, what is it that's got you so upset?" he asked softly.
Another two tears leaked out as she blinked hard. "It's…Ash," she confided, "he's been acting really weird ever since he won the Elite Qualifier."
"He has?" he queried. "Weird how?"
She rubbed her eyes. "Do you know where he was when Team Rocket attacked last night? In The Challenger's Rest, drinking himself to oblivion."
"Oh my," said Cairn in concern. "Is he normally a heavy drinker?"
"I've never seen him drink in my life! And then I find him this morning looking like death and reeking of cheap booze?"
Cairn thought it best to stay silent while Misty proceeded to offload her seemingly understandable distress.
"I've barely even seen him the past couple of days. I mean, the business with Adrian and the gym plans has kept me kinda busy, but it's like he's been avoiding me or something. I just…argh! What's going on with him?!"
She let out a frustrated gust of breath. "I ended up taking my anger out on Adrian yesterday…and I knew that battle with Macy was a bad idea, but she kept winding me up; I couldn't stop myself! And Caserin…oh, Caserin, I'm so sorry…"
With this flare-up of upset came more tears, prompting the compassionate man to retake the reins of the conversation.
"I can't imagine how much you're dealing with right now, Misty," he said. "I'd really hoped your troubles would be over soon, but somehow you're still getting pulled in all sorts of directions." He scratched the bald part of his head. "Did you say Macy was with you just now?"
Misty pursed her lips puzzledly. "You know her?"
"Well, not 'know', per se, but I've certainly had the, erm…pleasure," the professor chuckled. "She followed Ash here when he came by on Friday evening. Interesting character, isn't she?"
"Wait, Ash was at the lab on Friday?" Misty asked. "What for?"
"I believe he'd just finished his training. His totodile and krookodile have a bit of a rivalry going on, so he wanted me to check them over."
"Oh," she nodded solemnly. "I figured his new 'training buddy' would've fixed that problem already."
Her acerbic tone did not pass the professor by. "Between you and me, though," he added, lowering his voice, "I think he was mostly there to see if he could find you."
Across Misty's already red face stretched a thin band of warm pinkness. "Me?"
"That's right. He seemed very disappointed that you had to leave him to meet with Adrian."
The addition of Adrian into the mix suddenly made for a miniature sensory overload within the fraught woman's head. For some reason, it had just occurred to her that she'd never seen Ash and Adrian both at once, and neither had they even met each other. How in the world would she feel when faced with her two near-identical friends standing side by side?
"Say, Macy's awfully flirtatious around Ash, isn't she?" Cairn spoke again, a playful little smile on his face. "Pardon my saying so, but it's easy to see why you don't like her."
Her face still flushed, Misty's shocked eyes turned narrow. "Just what are you getting at, Professor?" she probed defensively.
"Oh…nothing," he laughed.
"What? What's so funny?" she pressed further, her heart beginning to pound.
He smiled, shuffling around slightly to face her. "You know, you remind me so much of my daughter."
This was certainly not what she'd been expecting to hear. Letting her worries recede, she allowed a few reflective seconds before offering a response.
"I didn't know you had a daughter," she said quietly. "What's her name?"
"Katerina," he answered with evident pride. "My most beautiful creation. She would have been about your age now."
Misty's heart skipped a beat. "Would have been?" she repeated. "You mean she's…?"
Cairn nodded, looking wistfully forwards at his reflection in the glass. "She was…taken from me. Eleven years ago. Her mother left shortly afterward."
From the collar of his shirt, he shakily held up a silver chain, on which hung a small but strikingly ornate oval locket.
"Kat, she…" he broke off momentarily, "she gave me this the night before it happened. I think, somehow, some part of her knew that things were about to change. Now she's gone, and this…is all I have left of her."
Speechless, Misty covered her mouth with her hand, the urge to cry again returning in an instant. She had been so caught up with Psyduck all this time, so fixated on her own selfish problems, that she had never even thought to ask about the professor's life outside of the lab. The poor, poor man…
"Oh…dear, I'm sorry, Misty," he chuckled forcedly as he pushed his glasses up to his forehead to rub his eyes. "Talk about making a bad situation even worse."
Without the power of speech, all the redhead could think to do was bury her head into his arm, holding on tight. Her tears splashed onto the shoulder of his lab coat, creating a braille-like pattern of little grey damp spots.
"Thank you," he whispered, taking a few breaths to regain his composure. "Anyway, where I was going with all this…ah, yes. It's a pity you and Katerina never got to meet. You were so alike you'd probably have been the best of friends."
Misty looked up. "What do you m-mean?" she sniffed.
"On the outside, you're guarded, assertive, tenacious, stubborn to the extreme…" his affectionate tone of voice made the young girl giggle weakly, "…but when it comes to emotions, I'm afraid you're as subtle as a loudred among litwick."
From out of her mouth came a noise halfway between a surprised gasp and a sigh of defeat. She'd certainly been accused of that before – and a scholar of the mind was surely going to know better than most. After what the man had just shared with her, Misty suddenly felt her problems were rather paltry by comparison. What right did she have now to deny they even existed?
"I…" she started, her face heating up beyond belief, "I know."
Cairn's eyebrows raised slightly as he smiled down at her. "That can't have been easy to admit," he said. "I'm flattered that you trust me with a secret like this."
"I do," she answered, without really knowing why.
"I could tell how you felt from the moment you first told me about him," he chuckled. "And with that in mind, I want you to consider this."
He took in a large breath. "The pain it causes you to see Ash and Macy together all the time; isn't it possible that Ash feels the same way about you spending so much time with Adrian?"
Misty blinked. "You, er, um…what?"
"It would surely explain his uncharacteristic depressive episode yesterday. And why he seems to think he can't be around you."
"B-But…" she stuttered, "I haven't seen him properly for five years! Why does now make any difference?"
"Maybe that's precisely the point," he suggested. "You're here with him now, and yet you both still feel as distant as you were when he was off travelling."
Though she hadn't considered this before now, the redhead was still doubtful. "I don't know…"
"And you'll never know unless you try, yes?" Cairn encouraged. "Is it so hard to believe that Ash could be feeling as left out as you are right now?"
To this, Misty said nothing. She had been neglecting her best friend a lot lately in favour of Adrian; with all of the people he usually surrounded himself with, it had never crossed her mind that, all this time, Ash could have just been lonely.
"Go and talk to him, Misty," he instructed. "This is never going to get better if you keep diving out of each other's way like this. Promise me you'll find him later today and set the record straight, okay?"
She wiped her nose, letting a relieved little giggle escape from her lips. "Okay. I promise."
"There's that smile," beamed Cairn as they both turned back to watch the workers through the window. "I was sent here to help you in any way I could, young lady, and that's exactly what I intend to do," he said, his eyes facing forward. "Never forget that."
A part of Misty was sceptical as to whether Ash had even managed to surface today after the hungover mess she'd seen him in earlier. Another part of her, perhaps her more hopeful side, had a strong feeling she knew where he'd be. And when she found him on that lonesome hill looking out over the leafy solitude of Southern Kanto, the sigh that left her chest gave her a small comfort in knowing that at least one thing had gone as she'd expected today.
"Your shirt's inside out," she commented, noticing the neck tag flapping out over the top of the boy's jacket.
Predictably, Ash jumped at her voice, but only turned the slightest bit to see her. "Hey."
"Hey," she greeted back. "Thought you could use some company."
His eyes met the ground, but a lethargic little nod of his head served as all the invitation Misty needed to fold herself down cross-legged beside him. It was evening now – as per Professor Cairn's recommendations, she didn't run to find him right after their talk – and the golden browns of the dwindling summer's day were just beginning to show. It was an immensely romantic scene…but, for the sake of the conversation she was about to have, she did everything she could to get that thought out of her mind.
"Déjà vu, huh?" she said somewhat jokingly.
"Wha…?" Ash moaned.
"Me, coming to sit with you after a hard day so you weren't alone," she explained. "It's just like what you did for me the night my gym was destroyed."
"I…" he muttered, still looking at the grass beneath him, "I guess."
"Pikachupi," purred Pikachu, climbing onto Misty's lap and snuggling into the fabric of her top. She stroked the top of his head in the short silence that followed.
"Aa-" was the next half sound that came from them both simultaneously. Misty, thankful that her friend was speaking at all, smiled politely. "You first."
He cleared his throat, which she imagined was probably very sore today. "Um," he faltered, "I'm real sorry about not being there last night when Team Rocket tried to steal Psyduck. Yesterday was…kind of a weird day, and I don't know why I did what I did. Well, to be totally honest, I can't really even remember what I did, but still…"
He had not yet managed to meet Misty's eyes, but for the whole time she'd been there, she had never taken hers off him.
"Ash, look," she started, "I'm not sure what's gotten into you lately, and I know I yelled at you a lot this morning, but that's not why I'm here now. You're my best friend, Mr. Pokémon Master, and I worry about you, even if you make me want to tear my hair out. I just…don't want you to ever doubt that."
It was then that he turned to her for the first time in the conversation, and by his strained and bloodshot eyes, she could tell how little sleep he'd had.
"Misty," he mumbled, "do you think I did the right thing entering the Indigo League?"
"Huh?" she replied, bewildered.
"Am I really ready, or did I just jump in without thinking like I always do?"
The fact alone that he was asking this was telling of the lingering effects of his liquid diet the previous day. Despite him no longer being visibly or audibly drunk, it was obvious to Misty that the debilitating depressant hadn't fully left his system yet.
"Where is this coming from?" she tried to ask nonetheless. "When have you ever thought you weren't ready?"
"Just be honest with me, Misty. Please. I just…feel like I've bitten off more than I can chew again."
Even in this uncharacteristic state, she knew the conventional methods would not get through to him here. After a moment's thought, she nodded to herself, then leant back on her hands, her eyes still trained on his.
"Ash, do you remember last week when you called me out on using Gyarados too much in my gym battles?" she said. "I do it on purpose, you know."
Now it was his turn to look confused. "Really? What for?"
"Every kid wants to be a pokémon trainer. I get more ten-year-old newbies as challengers than anyone else. They almost all act the same way: stubborn, reckless, naïve, cocky to the point where you'd think they'd won the Indigo League already. Remind you of anyone?"
"Ehehe," Ash laughed in reminiscence.
"I send Gyarados out, and of course he wipes the floor with them every time," she shrugged. "After that, I never see some of them again. What would you do in that situation?"
"Me?" he asked. "I'd train extra hard and come back for a rematch the next day, what else?"
Misty nodded proudly. "And that's how I know you're ready."
His puzzled silence gave her ample time to explain. "It takes a great deal of strength to learn from your mistakes and not cave at the first sign of trouble. The challengers who come back and try again are the ones I know are going to be great pokémon trainers one day – and that's you, Ash. You get beaten and outmatched all the time, but you never give up, and you never stop believing in your pokémon, because this is your dream." She blushed. "And there's no-one who wants you to achieve that dream more than me, Ash Ketchum, so you go and win that thing, for both of us."
A similar blush broke out on Ash's face, which he tried to hide behind his hand with a cough. "I, um…" he stuttered, "thanks, Mist. I knew you'd know just what to say."
"Yeah, yeah, don't get all mushy on me," she teased as they looked across at the bronzed horizon.
It came as no real surprise that another silence fell upon the pair after this. Whether or not it was an uncomfortable one, Misty couldn't decide. Was anything ever uncomfortable when shared with her best friend? In truth, all she wanted right now was to claw back some of that closeness that she and Ash had only for each other. No silly misunderstandings were going to ruin a bond that had lasted for over half her life; she'd make sure of it.
"You wanna go to Mt. Silver tomorrow?"
Then again, something like this had not exactly been her first thought. "What?" she incredulously said.
"Mt. Silver. Let's go training there in the morning."
Following his pointing finger over to where the snow-capped mountain stood, its base only a mile or two away, Misty could only stare without a smidgen of comprehension.
"Ash…what?" she gasped, incensed. "Why do you want to go there?"
He smiled. "I haven't done much training yet, and where better to get some real stuff done than where the Elite Four themselves train their pokémon? Look at it, it's right on our doorstep!"
"That's not the point," she said. "We can't just go gallivanting off wherever we like after what happened at the lab! What if they come back while we're Mew-knows-where up a mountain?"
"Brock told me about all the guards and stuff around the lab now, so how're Team Rocket gonna get anywhere near? And think about it; Professor Cairn can't really do anything with Psyduck until it's all done. That gives us at least a day or two, right?"
"A day or two?"
"Okay, okay, just half a day! If we leave early in the morning that should give us plenty of time! Whaddaya say?"
While secretly pleased that Ash's usual personality seemed to have returned, Misty was still more than a little reluctant. "Ash, it's not a good idea right now…"
Matching her sigh with his own, the boy stood up and walked down the hill until they were at eye level again. "These last couple of weeks have been nothing but stress and pain for you, Misty," he softly said. "I'm not just thinking of my training here. I think we both need a break from all this, you especially. Getting away for one day, training and exploring like we used to, doesn't that sound like the perfect way to let off some steam?"
She took in his every word, forcing herself to refrain from interrupting.
"And, well…" he looked down, "I guess we haven't hung out very much lately, and it'd be kinda nice to spend some time with my best friend."
Misty would be lying if she told herself his words hadn't begun to convince her. She did, indeed, need a break, and the prospect of going on an adventure with Ash would normally have won her over in a heartbeat. Psyduck was a constant worry, however, despite the lab's new security measures. Would he really be okay without her, even for as little as half a day?
Assuming he would, there was still Adrian and the gym work to think about. She supposed she didn't need to be there for all of that, though, technically speaking. But then she thought of Macy, and how satisfying it would be to not have to listen to that earsplitting voice for the whole time she was away – not to mention that it would keep the girl's grubby paws off Ash, too. This sure was starting to sound appealing. In fact, Misty had to wonder if her friend had suggested this little vacation for a similar reason of his own…
"Half a day?" she reiterated. When he nodded, she rose to her feet also. "Okay. Mt. Silver it is."
She couldn't help but laugh at the cheering that came from Ash and Pikachu thereafter. They most likely knew she wouldn't be able to resist. In the end, how could she refuse an offer like this? For tomorrow morning, she and Ash would be embarking on a brand new adventure; just the two of them, welcome guests of the untamed wilderness, like it was during the very best time of her life.
The beginning.