"Are you all right, sweetie?" Delia asked her son over dinner. "You haven't even touched your food."
"I'm not hungry," Ash replied sullenly as he stared at mound of food sitting on his plate.
"But deep-dish-chili-cheese-dog-pizza-pie is your favorite," Delia said. "Are you feeling all right?" She leaned over and felt her son's forehead.
"I'm fine, Mom," Ash insisted as he pulled away from her. "I'm gonna go to my room. Come on, Pikachu."
As the boy and his Pokémon headed upstairs, Delia began to worry. Ash was always so outgoing that his silence was unnerving. After putting Ash's untouched dinner back into the oven, she headed upstairs, slowly opened the door to Ash's room, and peeked in.
"Ash?"
Ash, who was lying on his bed with Pikachu atop his chest, jumped at the sound of her voice. "Mom, I told you to knock first."
"Sorry, honey," Delia replied as came into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's just that I'm worried about you."
"I'm okay," Ash insisted as he turned away from her.
"I don't think you are," Delia continued. "Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"
"Nothing, Mom," Ash said as he stared at the wall.
"Honey, I can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong." Delia laid a comforting hand on her son's shoulder. "Did something happen today when you were at Professor Oak's? You were fine when you left earlier."
"I don't want to talk about it, Mom," Ash insisted as he pulled away from her touch.
"All right, then," Delia said as she stood up. "I'm going to call Professor Oak and ask him what happened. Something is definitely wrong, and I'm going to find out what it is."
Ash rolled over. "All right, Mom. You want to know what happened? Tracey's Scyther died this morning when we were at Professor Oak's place!"
Delia was taken aback by her son's sharp tone. "Oh, Ash. I'm sorry. I…I didn't know. Oh, poor Tracey. No wonder you're so upset."
"Now that you know, can you just leave me and Pikachu alone now?" Ash said as he turned back to face the wall once more.
"Of course, honey," Delia said as she headed for the door. "Are you sure you're going to be all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, Mom," Ash insisted, even though he didn't believe that he was ever going to be all right again.
Delia didn't believe him, either.
---
Professor Oak had just finished putting away the last Pokémon for the evening. It had taken him longer than usual because he had to attend to Tracey's chores as well as his own. But in light of everything that had happened that morning, he had insisted on doing whatever he could to help alleviate Tracey's grief a little, which included letting the boy have time alone to deal with his loss. After double-checking to make sure all the Pokémon were safely inside their Poké balls, Professor Oak turned out the light in the Pokémon storage area and made his way down the hall to the living room, where Scyther lay in state atop a bier in the middle of the room. Tracey sat on one of the couches nearby with his head bowed over a sketchbook and appeared to be in the middle of drawing something. Intrigued, Professor Oak quietly came up behind his young assistant, peered over his shoulder, and discovered that Tracey was hard at work on one last sketch of Scyther.
"Even in death, Scyther still commands a powerful presence, doesn't he?" Professor Oak said softly.
Startled by the sound of his boss's voice, Tracey whirled around. "Oh, Professor. I didn't hear you come in."
"I didn't mean to startle you, Tracey," Professor Oak said as he came around to the other side of the couch. "May I see?"
"Sure," Tracey said as he handed Professor Oak his sketchbook.
"This is wonderful, Tracey," Professor Oak said admiringly as he studied the boy's drawing. "You've certainly captured Scyther's dignity and strength."
"It was the least I could do for him," Tracey said as Professor Oak handed him back his sketchpad. "One last portrait."
"I'm going to go to bed now, Tracey. You should try to get some sleep, too."
Tracey shook his head. "No. I want to stay here with Scyther. He stuck by me all this time, so I'm going to stay with him."
"All right, then," Professor Oak said as he laid his hand on his young friend's shoulder. "But do try to get some sleep."
"'Night, Professor," Tracey called back as Professor Oak headed upstairs and he turned his attention back to his drawing.