Heal Me
Written by ClaudiaDaro, translated by Fox McCloude
It was exactly at age eighteen Misty received her first serious love confession.
It wasn't one of those corny letters with hearts stamped sent to the mailbox every week, neither those dates in exchange for beating her in battles, or incoherent confessions that were easily forgotten. It was a very different type of confession.
A small crystal flower vase was in front of the gym's door, with five flowers glowing due to the morning dew like small diamonds. And a crumpled note next to it.
«They told me you love carnations! I don't like them, but I heard around they symbolize love and that stuff. So they're for you, because I've fallen in love with you».
Signed by no one. Written by computer. Crumpled on a corner. White paper.
Suddenly, thousands of invisible eyes gaze at her all over and her cheeks turn red. Words get stuck in her throat due to the shock, and she wants to enter the gym to reread the note and find out whether it's a bad joke or not (and should it be, someone would die by her hand). She grabs the vase and takes it to the office.
She places it the center of her desk and gazes at it for a few instants.
Truth be told, it's beautiful, with its fresh water and pink flowers. She decides not to trash it.
Nobody will show up until nine and doubts get the best of her until then, unable to process the note's contents. However, before she has the chance to breathe, she almost jumps on the small vase when someone opens her door without calling, finding her in an awkward position.
"Misty? Why're you on top of the desk?"
"It-it's my desk, I can rest on top of it whenever I want to!" she replies defensively, her cheeks still red.
No matter. Ash laughs it off and sits on the couch next to the desk, stretching like a tired cat.
And the problem's still there.
It's that (perpetual) curvature in his lips that strangles her heart. Misty returns to her normal posture and hides the small flowers behind her back. She won't let Ash see them, and doesn't want any questions.
Actually, she doesn't want anything to slip by her, not yet.
Ash talks about many things she doesn't catch due to being focused on the note. It's cruel and ironic to think how much she's wished for this kind of gestures: boys with elaborate poetry and loving faces, dressed in white clothing, yet now she doesn't want them anymore. At least, not unless they come from him.
No. Ash is not like that. That's (wrong) fine. She watches him stretch while he continues to talk.
What a strange boy.
Ash is the protagonist of a cheap comedy for naïve kids who laugh at everything. He's cute in his own way, with a sparkle in his eyes that irradiate constant sympathy (which counterbalances pretty well all his flaws). Misty thinks about the note and then about him. She sighs.
"Well, can you get me the medical kit? I don't wanna stain your stuff."
Misty doesn't say much when she sees him disinfect some wounds on his hands, his fingers stained in fresh blood. She doesn't ask, it must be some absurd training or a job at the Cerise Lab. The hand who wrote that note must have been soft and strong at the same time, right? Ash's hands have never been soft. She knows it well, as since childhood they've held hands to explore, to avoid getting lost or play around when things were okay. Without his gloves, they'd get full of soil and grass. It'd become so gross to intertwine her fingers with his, and they ended up arguing because of that.
"Part of your routine at Professor Cerise's lab includes breaking your bones? Be careful, you dummy, as it won't do me any good to have you hurt. Where the heck have you been?" In any case, she still cares for him.
Ash smiles again, but says nothing. He has that hidden sense of euphoria and brightness as he looks at her, and it seems she can pierce through him with some sweetness, even when she's angry.
"Where I've been? Where else do you see me? It's still early, I'm not going to the lab yet."
"Hope you washed your hands before disinfecting them."
Misty scolds him again upon seeing his blank expression.
She has no clue.
It was exactly at age eighteen that Ash took his first serious step for a confession. Five carnations in a tiny crystal vase. His unsigned note to keep the mystery and the crumpled corner over the imminent embarrassment/fear (Serena told him those details never fail, so he ultimately calmed down and left the vase before she showed up).
So it begins.
«Hey again! They told me you also love geraniums too. Hope they can keep the carnations some company. They probably love their company, just like I love yours. Part of my fondness for you is because we spent so much time together, nobody can compare to you».
Misty frowns. Again? Did she have some sort of secret admirer? And who among her alleged suitors could fit with those words? Brock? Ha! Sure. Tracey? Poor guy could barely keep up with his life because of her sister. Rudy? Too long, he must have gotten over her. Ash?
She smiles bitterly. Why couldn't she return to that time of her life where she would have expected more and more notes like this, to show the brat that she had someone who adored her? It just couldn't be Ash, not just because of the way the notes expressed themselves —neither did the redaction nor the words— but because… well, he felt nothing for her. For a moment, she felt the urge to toss that into the nearest trashcan, as she started feeling sad over the stupidity of not being able to enjoy these notes, all because of him.
"Hey!"
Misty hides both things behind her back, and stares at him like he were a ghost.
"Since when did you become an early bird, Ash?"
"Since I'm working. You okay?"
She's not sure about her own expression, but she quickly smiles like nothing's going on.
"I'm fine, so don't interrupt me today. Shoo! Shoo!" she jokes, pushing him away with a hand.
Ash raises the corners of his mouth, which never cease to send her heart to a marathon, and once again the spike of embarrassment stabs her in the heart. Seeing him walk away felt like a relief. She likes the notes, but she likes him even more.
«Hey again! They told me you like narcissuses too. I like them more than carnations and geraniums, because they're yellow, and I like yellow because it fills me with energy. That's how I feel when I'm with you; you fill me with energy and cheeriness when we're together».
Misty laughs out loud and allows herself to blush. Again, that tiny crystal flower vase with five yellow flower. But she also gets invaded by a sense of sad guilt over this person, confessing to her futilely, expecting her love and words of affection that don't belong to him. How could she reject him in a good way after so much wasted affection?
"What if it's Giorgio?"
The boy with blue eyes and sweet voice. That brunet with a tender look she rejected years ago. But she will couldn't match him those words in the white paper note.
It could be a possibility.
The notes start warming her heart of a maiden in love, who doesn't need to pretend being loved by a fictional character or in her imagination. It's real for her.
It's wonderful.
«This time I wasn't told whether you liked sunflowers or not. We all like them, I think. I was thinking about the first note I left you and I think I should have used sunflowers first. Sunflowers look at the sun, and I look at you. Not just your looks, but everything else you are. You're not perfect, and that's fine, because perfection doesn't exist, you just need to find what's perfect in imperfection. Luckily, I like you the way you are. I wouldn't change anything of you».
Misty caresses the sunflower's soft petals with her lips, this time without the crystal vase. Once again she hides the present when Ash shows up, on his way to work. For some reason he'd been choosing the long route towards the Cerise Lab.
"Good morning, Ash!"
The trainer arches an eyebrow when he sees her so radiant, so (beautiful) happy.
"Good morning. What're you hiding?" He leans to one side, upon seeing her exaggeratedly put her hands behind.
"Uhm, nothing." She smiles, enamoured with everything and nothing. Ash doesn't know how to interpret that cheerful attitude of hers.
But, as if it was a bucket of cold water on her internal summer, her smile vanishes upon seeing a long cut in the trainer's palm, which he tries to press with a scarf.
"What happened to you now?! You're not going to work like that! Come on, get inside so we can heal that!" she scolds him.
Ash, however, smiles upon seeing her cheeks had the same color as apples despite her worry.
«Today it's gladioluses. You know something? I have a friend who shares his name with that flower. He explained to me they mean protection, and that suits him quite well. You know, I love watching over you from afar. I know you can take care of yourself pretty well, but that doesn't mean you can't have my help when you need it. Despite everything, we're friends, and I want you to know you have a friend who'll always stand by your side. On good and bad times alike».
The note clouds the indomitable mermaid's aquamarine eyes. She tries not to lower her head, and carefully takes the gladiolus to place it on water. The paper is still white, no decorations, but the notes have built her a castle all for herself. She presses her lips upon feeling her hands shaking; the words have struck her so hard she starts wishing she knew whoever is behind all this. It's so painful to feel flattered by his words, but unable to reciprocate. It's terrible to feel good at his attention, but it's not the attention of the person she wants.
"Misty!"
Her already speeding heart begins a new race upon hearing her friend's voice behind her. She carefully wipes the tears off her eyes and raises her face towards him, asking with her look what does he want.
Ash seems not to look at her eyes anymore, instead focusing on what's on her hands.
"What's that you have? You bought that flower?"
Misty raises the gladiolus.
"Ash…" She's embarrassed at sharing that, but she trusts that he will listen to him. "Someone's been leaving me flowers with a note every day for several weeks."
Ash's face has an expression of pure curiosity, almost as if he were happy to be about to find out something. She gets mad at feeling he's not having empathy towards her, but she tones down her torrent of strong emotions with her constant sighs.
"Really? And what's it like? What do you think?" Ash keeps his hands hidden in his jacket's pockets. They're hurting, but he doesn't mention hit.
"I think… it must be the most wonderful guy in the world." Her voice turns soft suddenly, as if she was afraid of someone listening in. "He's probably tall, handsome, with perfect teeth and smooth skin. Probably with a manly yet sweet voice, and… and…"
Ash smiles as he feels some guilt in his throats, because Misty dreams it's her ideal guy who's giving her each flower.
And… yet…
It's him, her friend, who chose the longest rote to his job just to see her, always giving her smiles withholding with jealously an "I love you" and asks Serena for help to write those notes he thinks the marine girl will like. Ash has described everything he feels for the water queen, all the ideas crossing his mind upon seeing her and those hidden desires he knows nothing of nor does he even understand. Serena takes his words and encourages him to build up his thoughts in front of the computer. Something small, enough, accompanied by a detail Daisy has dropped to help him.
And thus, everything began.
Misty rereads the notes over and over, wonder who could be the mysterious guy who wants to love, care for and adore her forever. It's corny, it'd always been. Ash is with her, resting on the couch while trying not to fall asleep.
But the reading stops when she asks her to hold onto the notes so he can look at them, and Ash instantly refuses. Unable to hide anything, Misty carelessly pulls his forearm, to see with deep sorrow how his hands are full of purplish skin and gauze straps clumsily placed, and his fingers stiff out of fear of producing unnecessary pain.
"Ash, seriously?! What's going on with you? Why suddenly your work over there is causing you this?"
"Not on purpose."
Of course it's not, but it keeps happening. And it'll continue to happen, as long as he picks and cuts the flowers she loves with his bare hands.
Misty pulls out the first aid kit to properly heal him, even though his hands are full of calluses and she frowns.
She caresses his pained skin and Ash holds his breath, feigning indifference, as if somehow she knew how to touch him to make him tremble, heat up, and feel an urge to talk incoherences.
She's weird, and he loves that.
He loves her hands because they lift him into the sky and then bring him back to earth. They're so precious, because they don't let go as they keep trying to heal him.
"Misty, about those notes…" he says in the middle of everything, a little embarrassed.
"Yes?"
"I think you may be better off not knowing who it is."
"Why?" Her eyes scan him, watching him with an uneasy expression.
"What if you don't like him?" The question has an air of worry that quickly gets to her too.
"That… may be true."
For her, the only person she likes, is him. But her heart can't help but dance at the words in the notes. Something scrambles inside her. Is it normal to feel this way?
It's the same plot of so many romance moves she's watched, but this time she doesn't feel like she has the obvious answer.
Once again she feels trapped between what she has, and what she wishes she had.
Notes and flowers come and go, and her eyes become tinted with a sad joy. Confused, wishing that it was him so it wouldn't be such a hard pick. Getting bitter over her fantasy and telling herself not to be stupid. Her heart throbs every time she hears him, her breathing turns so erratic it seems she's about to faint, and the only way to get distracted is with the challengers. Suddenly she's gained the reputation of being more aggressive than usual. She scolds herself at her attitude. They're just pretty words, nothing more.
A new day dawns. She quickly fixes herself up. Her stomach trembles as she walks across the gym. She scolds herself for the millionth time. They're just pretty words, nothing more.
She doesn't know how to react when she sees the crystal vase, with five withered flowers, with the stalk as the only trace of life. The note is still next to it. Anger quickly rises in her. What kind of joke is this? She grabs the note so forcefully she may as well shred it, wanting to cry of frustration at any moment.
«Somebody told me I should give you withered flowers. At first I thought it'd be stupid, but they made me understand and I'd like to explain with my own words. I'm sure the first flowers I gave you must have withered and you tossed them into the trash. I don't feel bad for it, that's how the cycle of life goes. I always thought flowers are too quick to be tossed, they die too soon. But the stalks live until the end, don't they? I'm pretty sure I'm that way. We've both have changed, but I still believe you're amazing…»
They're just pretty words…
«…and no matter how much time passes and you keep changing, I'm sure I'll love those changes too».
…nothing more.
"Stop it!"
The scream comes out of nowhere, as she trembles in the rage that gets the best of her, and grabs the note along with the vase and tosses them both into the trashcan in front of the gym. Her face is burning, and she can barely breathe.
However, as if something was mocking her, she turns around to find Ash had been behind her all along, watching her with a rather calm expression.
"Did he say something bad this time?" he asked in a friendly way. There's genuine concern in her voice, which only buries her deeper into her own emotions.
Ash doesn't wait for the answer, instead placing a hand into the trash container despite his friend's protests, and pulls the note out to read it with a serene expression. Upon finishing, she gives her one of those smiles that make her feel guilty for having her heart split between the notes and the idiot who (in her mind) should be the one writing them.
"I think your admirer is dead serious. Why'd you trash them?"
"Because I don't want them anymore!"
Ash opens his eyes wide. He seems quite stunned, confused, and unsure of what to say.
"But… didn't you say girls loved this kind of stuff?"
"They love it when it's the boy they like who sends them!"
Misty seems angry, like a bomb about to explode if someone lights the fuse. Ash raises both arms as if trying to calm her down, which only makes it worse when she sees how hurt his hands look.
"And now you came here like that! Let's go inside so…"
"I don't need you to heal me!" Ash almost begs and pulls his hands back before she touches them. Both stare at each other, too full of contradictory feelings to even reply in a proper manner. The girl's the first who says something, very uncomfortable with everything.
"In any case, I'll talk very seriously with Professor Cerise for being so careless with you."
"Misty," the trainer ignored her words, unable to hold back his curiosity, "is there someone you like?"
She nods vehemently. Something in him seems to lose its spark.
However, he laughs like all of that is plain stupid.
"Why don't you write a note for that person? Leave it on the same spot, wait and see what happens."
Ash resumes his walk like nothing happened, leaving her confused and with her head full of doubts.
Would that work?
«Dear admirer. Thank you for those beautiful words you've dedicated to me. They've made me feel like I'm the happiest and luckiest girl in the world. But I must confess that I cannot reciprocate your feelings. I like someone else and, flattered as I am for your attention, I enjoy the time I spend with him. And if you're still curious, yes, I've liked all these flowers, but the truth is that my favorite flowers are the ones growing in the mountains. They're hard and dangerous to get, and I wouldn't like it if you found out before this note and you went off looking for them. I'm sorry, but with all due respect I have to say no. You deserve someone amazing because you are amazing. I'll always hold you in my memories, but not my heart ».
Misty finds out Ash was right. No more notes or flowers, just Ash's presence coming to say hello while he goes to work, and those smiles that suddenly make her feel she's done the right thing.
And one day, she doesn't have him either.
Delia explains to her that he's gone to do some research at the mountains and he'd take a while to come back. Winter is harsh, and both women's hearts pray for his wellbeing. The snow falls, he doesn't return, and loneliness invades her, feeling the words in the notes like they were from her to him.
Because she loves him, because she likes the time they spent together, because she's happy when she sees him happy, because she loves him with all his flaws. Because he's her friend and sometimes she wants to protect him from the entire world. Because time made them change, but she'd always feel how special he was to her.
"Please… be fine," she begs, quietly, in front of the fireplace.
Thing is… she feels like a fool after doing so.
Ash is plain and simply Ash. An adventurer who's always ready to dive into a volcano just to know how it feels. Too brave and stupid (both, always both together). And completely fearless. Ash has nothing to fear, he always knows what he's doing and why he's doing it. He's no longer the kid who did nothing but to get into trouble and get embarrassed over the embarrassment of doing embarrassing stuff without knowing how embarrassing it was.
She breaks down a bit at the tenderness.
She's got nothing to worry about. She'd just make sure to have hot chocolate for both once he came down from the mountains.
"They called me a short while ago, and I ran to come and see him. He was in such a grade of hypothermia that…"
Misty embraces Delia to calm her down after her explanation. He's fine and that's all. Before rushing to the hospital room where he's been placed into, she makes sure to take his favorite candies. Upon seeing him, her body feels at peace. He's stable and conscious, if a bit doozy, but never losing his perpetual smile, the one which always heals her, solves everything and makes her forget the sorrows.
"You surely love to worry us, Ash." Her mocking voice doesn't hide her shy affection.
"I didn't mean to," her voice is raspy and weak, but still with that cheeriness that keeps him alive.
"Those researches are very dangerous, why'd you go alone? The Professor hasn't given you another partner?"
"He went on his own."
Ash feebly raises a hand, his fingers with slight frostbite —merged with previous scars— to touch her face, and Misty does nothing but catch it between hers, carefully, and sighing to warm them up.
"There's just no way with you…"
Ash closes his eyes, as her sighs warm his spirit.
"I've got something for you."
Misty frowns upon hearing that and immediately rushes for the table he points at. She opens one of the drawers.
Her eyes open wide in shock. There's a small corsage of multicolored flowers, flattened by the pressure of some fingers and still dripping the melting ice still stuck to it. She won't dare touch them, afraid of hurting them after they'd suffered so much.
"You said you loved mountain flowers. I at least wanted to give them to you if you were going to reject me. It's just a friendship present, you don't have to give it any other meaning."
Thing is, Misty can't feel nothing but her whole world crumbling.
She turns to see him, her face turning red for many reasons, and a bunch of stacked tears that could easily be from both sorrow and anger. She wants to curse at him and punch him. But she also wants to hug him, stay close to him and do nothing but accompany him until he fully heals.
"It was always… you? The one who sent the notes…" she mutters like a robot.
Damn it all. Ash looks at her with guilt in his face.
"Heh, it didn't work."
The one who was winning her over, day by day with his tender and ridiculous corniness.
"How did you…?"
"They told me I should go slowly. I didn't want to go slowly, though. Anyway, I guess it wasn't too bad, because you seemed happy and I thought I should stretch it out."
"You…! I hate you!"
Without any care or thought she jumps to cover his body with her own in an embrace, softly placing one of her hands on the hand with the serum. She caresses his fingers with her own tips, making his breath shake slightly, a touch that's both innocent and impactful, much to the shock of both of them.
Everything happens too fast, just like that, and it scares them.
"Misty," he whispers her name. "You're hurting them."
But he doesn't want to have her far away from him.
Because Misty didn't run away in terror upon finding out he sent the notes. She's not screaming at him for breaking to bits her illusion of a prince charming.
She gets onto the stretcher as best as she can, resting by his side and intertwining one of his arms as his fingers aren't available for that. Ash has no need to say the written words, neither does Misty want to hear them.
(Nor does she expect that to happen).
(It doesn't matter).
"When you get out of here, I'll take care of you personally."
Ash nods, satisfied.
"Heal me."
His mistreated hands are giving life to those illusions of young love she still can and wishes to fulfill.
Breathing against his neck, she whispers silently those words of affections she'd been accumulating for years, that he understands without listening, and he buries his nose between her red hair to sleep with her scent.
(The cold ceases to exist, the sunflower is looking towards the sun to glow intensely, just for him).
Extra:
"it's just… how can I explain it?" Serena looked nervously at Ash's notes. "You should be a little more… delicate."
"Why should I be delicate." Definitively, Ash hates corny stuff.
"Flowers and notes are something more special, you see? Something she should always remember."
"I'm no poet, I've never understood that Shake-what's-his-name guy."
"We should just change the «I get happy» to «I feel happy»." Her explanations loaded of patience seem to lack a date of expiration.
Ash nodded, he understood better after that example.
"Sounds good! What else could you change?"
"This «How funny it is!» for «I smile in joy!»." Serena approached the computer and began typing. "This way I won't change what you feel or think, I'm just describing it in a different way, but it means the same. You see. Now you're like that «Shake-what's-his-name» guy."
Ash feels satisfied at the small printed notes. They weren't ridiculous, but not careless either. And they were his, they were his words. He was sure Misty would like them. The next step was to cut them and then get the flowers Daisy told him. To avoid looking suspicious, he'd cut them from the bushes in the groves all over Pallet Town, even if they were loaded with thorns and a bunch of moody Weedle.
"Thanks for helping me, Serena. Sometimes I wonder why you still don't have a boyfriend."
"Don't mention that!"
DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to the Pokémon franchise, GameFreak. I just fantasize with Japanese cartoons.
Dedicated to Fox McCloude. Well, you explained me a bit about your fingers, and while I didn't understand everything in full, I thought it'd be nice to give you a story to pass time and I hope you like it. Get well soon.
I wrote this while listening to the song "Patchwork Staccato" to get sugary, then I searched the lyrics in Spanish and became depressed (?)
Translator's notes:
Well, here I am with another translation made for ClaudiaDaro. This one came as a nice surprise, as I didn't even suspect one bit the dedicatory would be for me (despite the rather obvious hints with Ash's finger injuries, even if they were different to mine). But regardless, I really appreciate it, and it's only fair that I share it with the rest of you. Her kind gesture definitely gave me a boost on my writing inspiration, and as thanks I will dedicate one of the oneshots I'm currently working on to her. Thank you very much!
And speaking of, I better get back to write my own stories. Until next time, take care, everyone.
