disclaimer: i don't own anything!
warning: there will be drinking and smoking. the characters are of legal drinking and smoking age!
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"follow you into the park-
through the jungle, through the dark"
The train ride from Cerulean City to Pallet Town takes three hours. Misty has used the transportation system on many occasions, mostly to go enjoy the countryside with Delia on her days off. Misty felt like Pallet was a home away from home when she'd be welcomed into the Ketchum home with a glass of lemonade waiting for her. She'd accompany Delia on her trips to the market, stop by Professor Oak's home to visit him and Tracey. Times of them all sitting together in the Oak estate swapping stories and good laughs.
The Ketchum home is a twenty-minute walk from the train station. The path is one of rubble and dirt, surrounded by lush tall grass and fresh flowers born in the spring. She spends the walk listening to her music, trying to drown out the eerie nervousness that grew in the pit of her stomach.
Misty releases a low groan at the thought of Ash Ketchum and his dopey grin. What would he say when he sees her? What if something changed between them? She was so heavy in thought she didn't realize she grew so close.
Blue-green eyes fixate on the white home before her, with its red roof and lush garden. Beside the garden is Delia Ketchum, wearing her straw gardening hat, tending to her flora with the utmost care. She was a caregiver in so many ways.
Delia turns at the sound of Misty's steps and shows her a smile as bright as her yellow sunflowers.
"Misty, dear! You made it safe and sound!" Delia sheds her gardening gloves to the side, holding her hand out to pull Misty into a hug. "I'm so happy to see you!"
Misty returns the hug, noticing how strange it was that she was about a good few inches taller than Delia. "Thanks for having me, Mrs. Ketchum."
"Always so polite," Delia laughs, wrinkles around her eyes and mouth forming. To Misty, age touched her beautifully. "Let's get some food in you."
They walk through the door, the scent of herbs and spices hitting Misty's nose. At first glance, Misty sees that this time there were two glasses of lemonade at the kitchen table.
Misty reaches for a glass and takes a sip.
"Is he not here yet?" she asks, seeing that there were no signs of Ash.
"You know that boy, late as always," the brunette replies, as she makes her way to check on the pasta sauce. "He said he'd be here by dinner time—he'd went ahead to Samuel's to see his pokémon."
"They must be ecstatic," Misty replies, making her way over to the framed photograph of her, Ash, and Brock from many summers ago. "He gets to rough house with them for a couple of hours."
"As he always does."
Misty reaches for the frame, her fingertips lingering on the faces of her past. Ash's smile always took up his whole face, Misty recalls fondly. "Do you need any help?" She asks, loud enough for Delia to hear her while in the kitchen.
"Love, no offense but the last time you helped you needed two butterfly stitches," Delia giggles as she stirs. "Don't worry, you just settle down."
Misty groans. It wasn't her fault she wasn't good at mincing or handy with a kitchen knife. It wasn't her fault that her specialty meals were fried eggs and unburnt popcorn.
Memories of her and Ash mixing up strange curries and stews for Brock on special days flooding her mind. They'd giggle as they poured sweet sauce with savory pastes together like witches brewing their own concoctions. The memory of Brock forcing himself to eat a spoonful of their creation. The memory of them laughing till they cried, wrapped around each other. It was a simpler time.
Now she had a salary and was able to order take out every other night. Home cooked meals, by the fire or at the table, were rare. Misty peeks around the kitchen entrance, watching as Delia preps the last ingredients. A warm smile, pouring love into every movement. Ash Ketchum was the blessed, able to come back home to his mother's meals. Delia seemed overjoyed to have her son back after so long, to have him visit for more than a week.
Ash Ketchum had been missed in so many ways.
"Mom—"
Misty stiffens at the sound of the voice. Turning around to see a sun-kissed boy, his clothes rustled and covered in dirt, at the door. It wasn't unusual for him to throw a door open, walking in without walking. Before she could blink a yellow flash bolted, jumping into Misty's arms.
"Ah-Pikachu!" She chirps, enveloping the pokémon in her arms.
"Misty?" The figure asks softly, dark eyes widen in surprise at the sight of her.
The old friends lock gazes as the varying hues of ochre and orange grace the home through the window, casting warm light throughout the room. It was golden hour; he arrived as the sun was beginning to set.
Funny, she thinks, we first met right before sunset.
On the verge of her heart spitting out of her mouth, her lips curl into an odd smile
"Welcome home, Ash."
His face splits into something beautiful. A smile that reminded her of everything bright in the world.
"I'm home."
. . .
As usual, they went to bed with full stomachs after eating dinner and dessert crafted by Delia Ketchum. Unlike when they were ten, Ash's mother served them glasses of alcoholic apple cider. Misty liked the crisp bubbles while Ash liked the sweetness.
The three of them spent hours into the night talking.
As Delia went on and on about plans to roast some sunflower seeds by the end of the season, Ash tried to sneak bites from Misty's piece of cheesecake. After playfully pinching Ash, she pushed her plate closer to him, so he could finish, and continued to listen to Delia speak about her passions.
Before saying goodnight, Delia sets out a futon on Ash's bedroom floor.
The room barely changed from when he initially left for his journey. Dust never collected on any shelf or toy, Misty knew Delia regularly cleaned Ash's room.
She changed into her pajamas as Ash used the rest room, setting her clothes on the futon. They pass each other as Misty made her way to the bathroom, jokingly jabbing each other in the ribs while at the door frame.
By the time Misty returns, her clothes folded on top of her duffel bag and Ash turned over in the mint green futon, eyes closed.
Just like when they were ten, he still finds a way to discreetly offer his bed without making a big fuss. She remembers the first time she stayed over his house, Ash told her to be careful climbing the ladder up to the bed as it tends to be wobbly. Embarrassed, he couldn't look her in the eye as his chubby cheeks grew red.
Misty would never forget the look on his face.
Ash couldn't see her face but if he looked up, he'd see a fond glint in her eyes.
She climbs up the ladder, shuffles into the warm flannel sheets, letting out a long yawn as she stretched out. Misty looks over the rail of the bed frame, looking at his curled body from above.
"Goodnight, Ash. See you in the morning."
A moment of silence.
"Night, Misty," he replies, turned away from her. She couldn't see his face due to the darkness and the angle, nor could she see him hide his burning ears under a blanket. "…. Sweet dreams."
. . .
Misty dangles two fishing poles over Ash's sprawled out body. She could see spots of drool on where he laid his head. After jingling her lures for more than a couple of minutes, he finally responds in a loud groan.
"Wakey, wakey," she sings, making her arrangement of lures dance.
Ash digs his index fingers into the corner of his eyes, picking out the morning boogers. He wipes the gunk on Pikachu's fur, earning a soft whack of the tired creature's tail.
He squints at an already dressed Misty. Hair down, wearing a cropped true red halter top and dark denim shorts on. It was barely seven o'clock.
"Are you Death finally taking me?" He asks her, voice sleepy and low. She bites the inner of her cheek at how cute he sounded in the morning.
"Sure," she replies, throwing him one of his t-shirts. "If you consider Hell a fishing hole."
"A fishing hole sounds a lot more like a purgatory."
Misty rolls her eyes. "Meet you downstairs," she states, turning outside into the hallway. "Your mom has eggs and rice waiting for us."
"I love eggs," he says wistfully, pulling his t-shirt over his bed head. "Let's go, Pikachu."
As Ash and Misty enter the kitchen, welcomed with a warm smile and good morning. Downstairs, Delia had the home smelling like fresh white rice as Mr. Mime helped her with breakfast, placing soy sauce and brown eggs on the table. Misty set out the plates and forks as Ash set out the napkins and glasses.
They all sit down together, cracking their eggs into the bowls of hot rice and mixing it together with the sauce and seaweed flakes. The bite took Misty back to adolescence. Ash's mother knew comfort food well.
"So," Delia begins, "what plans do you have for today?"
Ash's drowsy eyes narrow at an alert Misty. "Misty's making us fish."
"Way to sound grateful," Misty interjects, setting aside rice for Pikachu. "I just think it would be a good way to wind down."
"Absolutely," Delia says enthusiastically, clapping in delight. "It almost makes you want to join you today."
Ash's eyebrows perk up. "Mom, you're always invited."
Delia giggles. "Thank you, love. Unfortunately, I'm joining Samuel on an overnight trip in Viridian City. It's a conference on grass-type pokémon that has a botany show! Samuel said I would adore the garden and the greenhouse. Isn't that exciting?"
Ash's faces twist in confusion. His mom said nothing about an overnight trip with Professor Oak.
"The Professor is a really smart man," Misty murmurs in Ash's ear when Delia wasn't looking. "He really…. gets your mom."
"Easy now," Ash whisper backs, scowling.
"Will you two be alright for the night?"
Ash and Misty look at each other, sharing a rebellious glint in their eyes. Two grins widening at the shared thought of late night adventures and feet on the furniture.
Delia sends the teenagers a look. "Pikachu," she points at the ball of yellow chewing on rice, "you're in charge."
Pikachu chirps in an agreement.
. . .
Thirty minutes later, after kissing Mrs. Ketchum goodbye and good luck, the trainers are out the door with a cooler of fresh fruits and fishing rods. Ash suggested a waterhole that he and Gary use to fight over when they were younger. He assured her he always caught the larger magikarp, and that he was always the winner. She laughs at the fib.
Down the dirt path, they spot a clearing with a body of clear water at its center. Pallet Town held so many secrets and untouched nature that Misty fell more and more in love with it with each visit.
They lay a blanket down, taking in deep breaths and a seat beside each other. "Wanna play twenty-one questions?" Misty asks, adjusting the lure on the end of her rod. The lure was a miniature azurill.
"I'm down."
"So," she begins, "do you think your mom will go by Delia Oak or get it hyphenated to Ketchum-Oak?"
They cast their lines.
"Next question," he urges.
"Ash! That's not how you play."
Ash ignores her pouting. "And you love to play dirty. Next question."
"Fine," she chimes. "How are you?"
Ash laughs, shaking his head at her simple question. "I'm happy I'm home. How are you?"
"Happy to fish for the first time in months," she sighs dreamily. "And to see you too, I guess."
"I guess, huh?" He repeats, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. "Your turn."
Misty twists herself closer to look over Ash's shoulder. "Is that the lure I gave you?"
"What if it is?" Ash replies confidently, a knowing smile gracing his face. Misty ignores the twinge in her stomach surfacing at the sight of his gloved hand hold the little primary colored figurine.
She remembers when she initially made it. Spending the day by the water, her little tool box and acrylic paints beside her. Putting every memory of their journey together into every stroke. Memories of them surrounded by nature, side by side.
Moments like this.
"Oh," Misty says, trying to hold back a smile. "Then I'm glad you put her to use."
"Oh yeah," Ash smiles. "She has helped a lot on fishing trips. And she doesn't critique my fishing technique like the original."
He laughs at the jab Misty twists into his stomach with her shoulder, jokingly telling her to knock it off. She persists, grabbing a cold-water bottle from the cooler and pressing it against Ash's neck before he realized what she was doing.
"Yo! Misty, chill out!" Ash squeals, earning a giggle from Pikachu who sat in his lap. "I surrender!" He puts his arm up in defeat, swinging his fishing pole around like a flag. Misty takes a drink from the water bottle before, smirking as she places it in Ash's hand.
Ash shakes his head, taking a big swig. "And you call me immature."
Misty adjusts her pole, eyeing the line drift slightly. "Not true, I think you're plenty mature. You sliced up fruit for our snack instead of packing a box of powdered donuts. I call that development."
"Fresh fruit salad is the best in this time of year," he points out. "I figured your hippie crunchy munchy self would appreciate it."
"Your mom must be so proud to see her baby boy cut his own fruit."
Ash grins back at Misty. "Aren't you proud of me?"
She rolls her eyes, smirking as she watches the watering hole gleam.
"Misty?"
"Ketchum, we're done with the bad game of twenty questions."
The ginger keeps her eyes on her lure bobbing, listening to her gut telling her to not look her best friend in the face, before she feels compelled to pour out something embarrassing.
"Okay," he states. "The question wasn't part of the game."
"Then I don't have to say anything," Misty counters.
"Misty," he repeats her name, gaining her attention once more. "I'm asking you: are you proud of me?"
He sounds adamant with a hint of curiosity plaguing his tongue. She wonders if there is reason why he continues to press on.
Does he not realize she has practically seen all his league battles? How she wishes sometimes she could be at the stands and not on the other side of the screen?
The sparks of pride that filled her when Ash won a battle or did a good deed.
"I'm proud of you," she tells him.
"I-I'm sorry, something must be in my ear," Ash pushes. "I really can't hear anything."
"Wha—we're literally sitting right next to each other!" Misty squawks. "Don't play around."
"Don't play what?"
"Ash, I'm proud of you!" Misty raises her voice. Laughter falling from her mouth, partly in disbelief how unbelievable Ash could be. "Have I ever given you a reason to believe I'm not proud of your accomplishments or of you? Because I am."
She pauses for a moment, feeling part of the wall around her heart crack. "—But if you get cocky I'll retract my statement."
Reluctantly, her eyes dart to his face in effort to read his expression as he lingered on her answer, watching as the corners of his mouth twitches upwards.
"Nah," he admits, and then clears his throat. "To be fair, there are a lot of voice messages from you mad as hell over me risking my life or whatever."
"Can't be proud to call you my friend if I don't have you anymore, right?"
It wasn't entirely true, she would always consider Ash a friend, but making him feel a bit guilty of his actions on behalf of his loved ones.
Ash stands, his pikachu jumping from his lap to seat on the cooler beside them and looks out towards the water. Misty fixates on his profile, tiny scratches she has never seen on his cheeks and an angular jaw. Misty looks up at him, the sun behind him gracing his skin making it look like gold, and swallows the dry lump caught in her throat.
He is taller now, she thinks to herself.
Misty presses her knees together awkwardly, clenching her hands around the handle of the fishing pole, waiting for him to say anything to keep her from rambling something regrettable.
"Hey."
The depth of his voice drags Misty out of her stupor.
"You'll always have me so don't worry about that."
Taking note of Ash's sincerity, of his tightening fists and iron voice, she looks for the right words to say.
"Then don't worry about me being worrying about you," Misty retorts, adjusting the drag on her spinning reel slightly. "—Because I always will."
Ash pauses, craning his neck to look at her. "…I know, and thanks."
"For what?"
"For worrying, for caring," he answers. "For being proud. All of it, I guess."
"You're…welcome."
"I even liked the voice messages," Ash admits. "It was nice hearing your voice after so long, even if you were yelling."
Misty's heart tugs at hearing him finding her voice nice. It makes her light and she finds herself trying to change the direction of the conversation.
"Next time don't recklessly jump off a tower," she shoots him a warning. "Seeing you all the way in Kalos causing a commotion almost sent your mom into a heart attack. When Gary sent me the link to the video I wasn't even surprised that it was practically your first day there."
Ash chuckles. "Kalos was a lot of fun."
"The package you sent recently, from Kalos," she mentions it, remembering the pink packing peanuts and happiness it brought her. "I forgot to thank you and everyone for it. Everything was wonderful."
"Oh, the package," Ash's eyes widen, rubbing his neck out of embarrassment. "I thought you might want a taste of Kalos considering how much you've talked about it in the past."
"I loved it. It was a surprise, but a beautiful one."
"….I'll let Bonnie, Clemont and Serena know. They helped out a lot."
Misty smiles at him. "The letter was my favorite part."
He blinks in surprise.
"Even more than the chocolate?"
She shrugs. "A little, yeah."
"Maybe you would have liked pumpkin pie more than my letter."
They wouldn't eat them often but when they got hold of the ingredients, after begging Brock for hours to bake them one of his special desserts, they would share a whole pie. Even after a stressful day on the road or bickering, they would cave in and eagerly finish the tin while huddled in a tent or in the corner of a room in a center. Brock shaking his head as the kids share a blanket on the floor, sitting over a tin of pie with spoons in their hands smiles large on their whipped cream faces.
"Now that's not true," she offers, taking a stand and step forward. She takes off her sneakers and throws them to the side, putting her feet in the edge of the water. "No one bakes pie like Brock, not even a fancy Kalosian baker. Plus, what's a slice without someone to share it with?"
Misty bites her tongue, catching how forward her statement must have come across.
"You that lonely, Mist?" Ash teases, earning a splash of water at his feet and a glare from her. "Hey! You're disturbing the peace, weren't you the one who wanted to go fishing?"
"Ash, you're literally the reason we haven't caught anything all day."
He fakes a gasp in protest. "Some nerve you got there, Miss Tomboyish Mermaid."
"I'm taking your condescendence as a sign to ignore you and fish in silence, Ketchum."
"Fine, fine," Ash says. "You win.'
He kicks off his socks and shoes off his feet, taking a step into the edge of the water beside her, causing Misty to shift. The day was still bright and new, as the sultry summer sun hung over them. She looks at Ash and breathes in the warm air, settling into a comfortable peace rather than a bundle of nerves. With Ash, she fells both. And hundreds of other emotions she can't quite admit out loud.
They haven't caught anything, but looking at him shine beside her, she didn't seem to mind much.
. . .
In the end, Ash and Misty caught nothing but slight tan lines. Two hours later, they made their way down aimlessly through Pallet Town's roads, passing by rustling trees and fields of wildflowers.
"Those poliwags were so cuteeeee," Misty coos, kicking her legs up in a swing motion. "If only they would have taken my bait!"
"Pallet and poliwags go together," Ash emphasizes, holding the cooler in one hand and their fishing rods in the other. Misty had their bags on her back and Pikachu held to her chest. "Mom and I use to count how many we saw when we went on nature walks as a way to get me to practice my numbers," he says, laughing a little at the memory.
"That's sweet," Misty smiles, imagining a black-haired little boy dragging his mother around in a fit of energy.
"Then she would treat me to shaved ice in town."
Misty's ears perk up. "Shaved ice you say?"
Ash pauses, catching what Misty was implying. "From a corner store on main street, it's like five minutes away."
"They got cherry flavored syrup?"
He sends her a knowing grin. "They got everything."
They smirk at each other.
"I'll race ya, loser pays!" Misty makes a run for it, letting a ripple of laughter escape from her chest. "Come on, Pikachu!"
"Pika pika!"
Ash groans. "Misty, Pikachu!" he yells. "That's not fair!"
He chases after her, putting every muscle and drop of energy into their strides. As if they were battling, full of life and dirt in the air, they ran free.
. . .
"How-how does losing taste?" Ash teases, huffing before taking a large swig of water. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, sending Misty a shit eating grin.
She leans her hand against the wall of the corner store, catching her breath. "Ash, we tied!"
They found themselves centered in the hub of Pallet Town. Pokemon, their trainers, and townsfolk scattered around enjoying their summer day. Nostalgia of older Kanto and the potential of modern Kanto meet in Pallet. It is small but the slow-paced, kind nature of the town and its residence stood out. Unlike Cerulean City, full of romantic sites and beachy spots, Pallet Town had multiple local mom and pop places that have been part of the region for generations. Even the corner store had signs and advertisements from when Delia Ketchum was a small sunshine child.
After placing their items outside, they were greeted by a bell and an older woman sweeping at the wood floors. In the back, a young man carrying boxes disappeared into a room. "Welcome, children-oh!" Her bifocals practically fell of her face at the surprise. "Is that Ashy Ketchum? Oh, and his pikachu!" Pikachu scurries in, eyeing the array of goods throughout the store. He decides to sit in front of a fan in the corner of the room, cooing at the comfort it brought.
"Pikaaaaaaaaaaa," the yellow mouse purred into blades, sounding like a autotuned robot.
Misty smiles at the old nickname and how his country manners resurfaced. "Hi, ma'am. It's been a while."
"You barely could reach the counter last time you were here and now you could practically touch the roof! Tall and handsome trainer you are, but still got your mama's smile. Bright as the sky, I say."
"Thank you, Miss Rosa. It's good to be back at your shop! I was telling my friend earlier about your specialty shaved iced and just had to have it. It's the best in the world."
"Why," Miss Rosa blushes at the compliment, reaching over to pat Ash's cheek, "you didn't introduce me to your friend! Show your hospitality, my love!"
Misty offers her hand, smiling brightly at Miss Rosa, admiring her energetic disposition and sweet grin. "I'm Misty! It's so nice to meet you."
"My, my," the older woman sang. "You're quite beautiful, aren't you? Sun kissed and lovely. I've seen you around town before, often with Delia and Samuel. Oh-you're the gym leader that's been seen with Gary and Tracey! A Cerulean City royal here in our town. How have you not stopped by before?"
A large amount of information comes out of Miss Rosa's mouth quick as a beedrill. Both trainers look surprised, if not impressed at how the woman could infer all of that with a single meeting.
Ash looks at Misty, slightly confused and somewhat intrigued about her visits around his hometown. He doesn't say anything, eyes pacing back and forth between Misty and the rainbow assortment of syrup bottles.
Misty blushes on sight, sweeping her hair behind her ear. "I didn't realize I stood out to that extent, ma'am."
"Dear, small townsfolk like ours have big ears and wandering eyes," she emphasizes, turning to wag a slight finger at Ash. "Ash, remember that before coming into town with a girl like her."
"—We're just friends," Ash offers, hands up in defense. "Have been for years!" From the corner of her eye, Misty takes note of Ash rubbing his neck. He seems frazzled.
Miss Rosa blinks, "And Tracey Sketchit and Gary Oak?"
"We're also just friends," Misty assures her, giving the shop owner a forced smile.
Miss Rosa's eyes glint behind her bottle cap glasses. "Really? Hm."
The woman shuffles behind the counter, behind her a wall of photographs and paintings. Multiple scenes of nature, smiling patrons faces, and old memories taking up the entire wall.
She places her apron down, taking a magazine from behind the cash register and checking the clock on the wall. "Oh! It's my break time! I'll send my grandson to ring ya'll up, just a sec." Within a second, a gray head shuffles towards the back carrying a devilish grin on her face.
"I-I," Ash whispers to Misty, "have never heard about that woman take a break a day in her life."
The friends look at each other, trying to make sense of the situation and the strange aura Miss Rosa left them in. Misty hopes to herself that the heat that rose to her cheeks wasn't noticeable.
They could hear slight bickering from the back room of the store.
"Gram-ouch! Don't push!" Brown and teal eyes perked up to see Miss Rosa rock a young man in an apron forward in their direction. It was the stock boy from earlier.
The brown-haired man stood feet above his grandmother, with defined arms and a wide chest covered by a flimsy green apron. Dark skin healthy with calloused hands. Light freckles kissing his face, hazel eyes turning into saucers at the sight of Ash and Misty.
He was the definition of boy born and raised in the country.
"Ashy, you remember my grandson Willy?" Miss Rosa hangs off her grandson's forearm, practically swinging from it with pride. Ash blinks. "Will?"
Will gives Ash an exasperated smile, reaching over to shake his hand. "Hey man, it's good to see you back in town. How's your journey treating ya?"
"Well, ya know, it never quits," Ash raises his shoulders with pride. "Still competing with my teams, you should come check them out sometime at Oak's lab."
"I'd love that," Will says, turning to face the red-head. "And-and you are?" He asks, voice cracking and lips parted. Miss Rosa's attention darts between her grandson and Misty, earning a suspicious look from Ash.
"Misty," she gives her name. "The leader of the Cerulean City Gym."
Will whistles, appearing impressed. "A city girl out here in the boonies," he points out, eyebrows raised. His grandmother pinches his arm, sending him a not so discreet towards Misty using her eyebrows.
Miss Rosa waves her tiny hand in the air. "Willy, take care of them for me please. I'll be out back." With his grandmother gone, Will lets out a long sigh before sending Ash and Misty an honest look from behind the counter.
"She's a hand full, huh?"
"She seems…caring," Misty admits, walks towards the counter and begins eyeing all the treats around. "You must have some patience."
Misty earns a laugh from Will.
"So," Will says, settling behind the counter, "what can I get for you?"
Ash nods towards the arrangement of flavors. "Shaved ice, man."
"What flavor?"
"I'll have the green tea," he replies, stepping forward and closing some of the distance between him and Misty. "And she wants-"
"How about you, Misty?" Will cuts him off as Ash blinks in slight shock.
"Cherry, please," she says warmly.
Will's mouth quirks up into a half-smile. "That's funny."
"What is?"
"That's my favorite flavor," he replies, shaving the ice cubes into a light and fluffy mound. Quickly, he mixes green and red syrup into their orders and pours condensed milk.
He places the cups into their hands. Ash and Misty eagerly place their treat into their mouths, both known to be weak for sugar.
"Dude," Ash breathes deeply. "You're a miracle worker."
The shy boy scratches the back of his head out of embarrassment. "Nah I just learned from the best," he assures. "What do you think, Cerulean?"
"It's delicious," Misty tells him. "Ash and I may have to come back tomorrow…and the day after that."
"I wouldn't mind making it for you every day if you'd like."
The sincerity in his tone catches Misty off guard. Lifting a brow in curiosity, letting out an awkward chuckle. "Smart guy," she exclaims, swirling her treat. "Tempting me with an offer like that."
"You think so?" Will asks, nervously chewing at his bottom lip.
Ash stares at him in confusion but he pays no mind to Ash's wide eyes, instead the stock boy's focus remains on Misty. The leaning in, the hint of nervousness to his voice, and the subtle biting of the lips. Misty is not new to attention or flirting tactics. She finds it somewhat strange to receive attention from someone Ash has known since he was a child. She hasn't experienced it in a long time but Ash's reaction to guy's sweet talking her always brought up strange emotions. He was usually immature, picking fights or trying to distract them with a battle.
In a way, it was like he was treated like a little brother pushed to the sidelines as she was asked a million questions and given strange compliments with a side of flowers. Misty thought she always handled attention well, but it seemed to drive Ash nuts that strong trainers would rather speak to her than take part in a battle.
Years have developed Ash, and Misty knows well that it's unlikely every interaction for him has to result in a battle. That's not all that matters to Ash Ketchum.
She takes another bite, enjoying the treat and how quickly Will handed her a napkin when some syrup got on the side of her mouth. "Ah, thank you."
"You're welcome," he says, flushing obviously. "I wasn't kidding about the offer. Seeing you enjoy our shaved ice is enough for me to give you an endless supply."
Misty blushes. "Come on, I'd run you out of business. I'm sure you say that to everyone that walks in here."
"Yeah where's my offer of a lifetime of shaved ice?" Ash steps in, teasing Will with a shit-eating grin.
"The offer stands for cute gym leaders and league champions only, my dude," he playfully counters, wiping his hands on his apron.
In response, Ash chokes on his bite of shaved ice causing a choking frenzy. He did not expect the slight dig at his career. Misty snorts to herself, patting Ash's back as he coughed harshly. Pikachu scurries over, jumping on Ash's shoulder and licking his cheek trying to comfort him. "I'm good buddy," Ash assures, nuzzling against his pokemon's yellow coat. He feeds Pikachu a spoonful of green tea slush and gives Misty a dry look.
"Thanks for laughing at me dying," he says, letting out a short cough.
"You're welcome," she teases, her smile innocent and cherry stained.
Will offers an apologetic glance towards Ash. "I'm just kidding," he tells him. "It's not every day that we see you back in Pallet. Every time you stop for a visit you're back on the road within a few days. Us locals wonder about all kinds of adventures you've had."
Ash doesn't find it in himself to look Will in the eye.
"…Yeah, it's been a while," the trainer says, words stumbling out of his mouth. "I'm planning on staying longer than usual, just to catch up with Kanto."
He looks as if he doesn't really know what else to say.
The townie grins in return. "You haven't missed much. Pallet Town still has fields….and flowers and really tall grass."
Ash laughs weakly at Will's attempt at a joke. "Guess I haven't missed much," he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
Misty shoots Ash a concerned glance, noticing slight uneasiness in his tone of voice. Her mind jumps to the letter he sent when he admitted to homesickness and a break and taking time for his mom.
They haven't discussed Ash's in-depth reasoning for taking a break from his journey or his plans for his extended stay.
"So, is there anything else I can get for you?"
Their ears perk up at the question.
In the corner of the store, Misty notices a display of brown bottles. Bottles of locally brewed beer. Bottles of Western Kantonian whiskey.
Before Ash had anything to say, she turns to Will with zeal ridden on her face.
"Actually…."
. . .
"Did he like, like you or something?"
"Ash, what kind of question is that?" Misty's head jerks to see him almost dropping one of the beer bottles on the floor.
"Misty, I think Will liked, liked you," he emphasizes, pushing past her and putting the beers in the fridge next to last night's leftovers.
"Uh huh," she mumbles, dumping out the remains of their lunch into the trash and putting the cooler to the side. She quickly washes their Tupperware and sets them out to dry.
Ash watches her with furrowed eyebrows as he puts the cooler and rods in the closest.
"What's with that face?" She asks with caution.
"If you marry Will, does that mean you inherit the shaved ice properties?"
"Why, jealous?"
"Jealous? Of Will? That's funny." Ash scoffs. His flushed cheeks tell her otherwise.
"I meant jealous of me," she laughs, fighting back the urge to tease him. His face twisted in embarrassment.
"Uhhhhhh-" he flushes, looking at everything but her face, doing his best to seem nonchalant.
She didn't have enough energy to continue a conversation that would probably end in taking a joke too far and defensive tactics.
"On that note," she says, a crease in her eyebrows. "I'm going to wash up before dinner."
"Cool cool," he tells her before taking off his jacket and slamming himself on his mother's couch for a good stretch.
"Don't get too comfortable," she says from the staircase. "We still gotta eat."
He sends her a peace sign.
While upstairs Misty changes into a large baseball t-shirt she got from a Starmie-Electabuzz game she went to last year. She washes her face and hands, taking a long stretch before coming downstairs to find Ash peacefully napping with Pikachu on his chest.
Misty melts over the tender sight.
Deciding to leave Ash to sleep for a bit, she heads into the kitchen and heats up the curry Delia made for them. Misty measures the rice for the rice cooker and hopes the measurements are correct.
All that needed to be done was the table.
She walks quietly to the couch, kneeling beside Ash and a curled-up Pikachu. For a small moment, she takes him in noticing the little stains on his shirt and how he was in dire need of a haircut. Her mind jumps to the thought of how warm he would feel if she pressed her lips to his forehead. Misty reaches to brush Ash's hair out of his eyes, her heart stumbles as his eyelids fluttered open. Embarrassment comes over her like a crashing wave and she retracts her hand like she touched a burning flame.
Misty's behind almost hits the floor in panic.
Holy shit, she internally screams. All she could do was blink at his drowsy expression.
"Howdy," Ash yawns, his voice husky and dreamy. He stretches his arms and Misty feels her throat tighten.
"Howdy?"
"You've had me up since dawn," Ash mumbles, petting Pikachu awake. "So sorry if I say something stupid."
Misty, in a combination of attracted and nervous, replies, "Ash, everything you say is something stupid." She avoids looking into his stupid big brown eyes.
"Har har," he snorts, propping himself up from the couch. "Got anything for me to do?" Ash, in a caveman way, scratches his stomach under his shirt causing Misty to almost chokes on her own spit at the slither of tanned skin showing.
Find some chill, she tells herself.
"Set the table please?"
"Misstyyy," he whines, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Let's eat on the couch and watch some TV!"
Misty glares at him, and Ash pouts in response, his bottom lip sticking out. "Ash, no. Set the table."
"Let's sit togetherrrrr," he practically sings.
He has her beat. "Fine," the redhead sighs, tilting her hip towards the kitchen. "But you're fixing up our plates."
"No problem!" Ash says with a crocked smile, turning on his heel with a yawning Pikachu towing right behind.
He doesn't catch her lips twitch into a goofy grin as she watched him serve the curry and rice. A sleepy Pikachu settled by his own bowl of berries and rice, getting ready to eat before crashing out anywhere soft. Misty grabbed two beers and settled on the couch, secretly hoping Delia Ketchum doesn't find a curry stain somewhere on her furniture.
Ash practically skips into the living room, carrying two plates of curry and utensils. He hands Misty her plate before settling into the seat beside her.
She opens the bottles of beer swiftly, handing a bottle to Ash. He takes a large sip, balancing the curry on his lap and the remote in his other hand. Misty laughs at the sight, "You're good at multitasking."
"I'm the very best," he grins into his beer. "Now, what should we watch?"
"Well-"
"You wanna watch battling? Oh word! Sounds good to me!" Ash changes the channel to a live tournament. On screen, a poisoned ninetails was using a fire-type attack on a weary vileplume. "You suck."
"Look at that sick Fire Blast!"
Misty senses a screaming match between Ash and television coming on. She tries to push down her grin as she watches her best friend's young adult face morph into his old giddy self. It was cute.
Her attention flickers from the trainer to the hot plate and eagerly eats a spoonful after spoonful as the vileplume mistakenly casted a sunny-day attack.
. . .
"That is so unfair!" Ash gapes in outrage and disbelief at the results of the battle to which Misty shrugs. "I call rematch! Did they really allowed them to carry items just like that—"
"It is what it is," she cuts in, placing their empty dishes on the side table. They were two beers in each and Ash almost threw an empty at the television. "Aimee was in deep shit the minute Natalie's Ninetails knocked out her Vileplume," Misty offers with a shrug. "She depended too much on attacks that inflict status conditions and not strengthening the actual special defense. Vileplume could dish it out but couldn't take it."
Ash groans, sinking deeper into his mom's couch. "That's true…."
"Good battle though," she admits, eyeing the commentary of the match on the screen.
"Oh totally," he agrees. "Unfair but still good. Kanto always has the best matches on television compared to all that censored crap in Kalos and Unova."
"Your league battles weren't boring at least, I got a kick out of them."
He gives her a half-smile. "That's why you're so proud of me."
"Don't get it twisted," Misty warns, throwing a pillow at his smug expression. Chuckling, he catches the pillow.
A commercial from the The Pokétch Company comes on and Pikachu snuggles against a couch cushion on the floor, dozing off.
Ash breaks away from the screen. "So, what should we do now?"
Misty, slightly buzzed and thirsty for fresh air, sits in thought. Remembering the handle of whiskey and how she wasn't quite ready to end their day. She still had questions. Currently, with her mind going to war with her heart, Misty refused to let the jitters and roaming thoughts drown her. Denial is her own personal prison, but she'd swallow denial in brown liquor just for some time with Ash under the moonlight. Full of laughter and conversation and memories.
"How dangerous would it be to take shots of whiskey on your roof?"
Ash's grin was as slick as the Devil's.
.
.
.
notes: i hope you liked it! please review! i'm not sure if these sorts of stories are what people seek out when trying to read pokeshipping but i intend to unravel their bond in my own way with this story. i hope you value their friendship and love and dedication as much as i do! either way sap will be coming soon. please send me your favorite ash and misty headcanons. a girl's gotta eat.