A/N: This chapter is incomplete.

Summary—Ash returns back to Indigo to try the League here again. Unfortunately, this means retrieving his badges so he can compete, namely by breaking into his own home. This brings about certain conflicting thoughts and wishes. And a certain girl is not too happy—she's not even talking to him, which Ash can't decide is a blessing or not—because he lied to her for so many months. And the fact that another girl kissed him. (But that is not as important as compared to the other, except for the fact that it does seem to be rather high up on the scale. Perhaps it is upside-down.)

A/N: Hopefully this does not continue the trend of every following league being longer than the previous. He . . . he . . .uh

****

Chapter 16:

The Large Frequency of Indigo, the Larger Waves

****

Ash stepped off the boat, feeling the rush of familiar lands course his veins. All right, it wasn't that dramatic, but he knew this landing. He had been here before. All right, so he didn't exactly remember the name of the landing, didn't know the town like the back of his hand, didn't know its exact location to Pallet aside from the fact that it was a few days lost. It was pretty sad that he knew a location by how far lost he was when he originally stumbled across the place.

"Kapi, Pikapi," Pikachu sighed, scurrying up his leg to sit on his shoulder.

"Yeah." Ash turned and put on a smile as Shamin got off the ramp. "Need any help?"

Shamin glared at him coldly, raised her nose a bit higher to ignore him, then walked past rudely, hefting her bag in a wider arc than necessary in the attempt to hit him.

"Chupi pi pika chu pi," Pikachu shrugged, sliding down to retrieve Trigger from a garbage can.

He slumped and jammed his hands into his pockets in defeat. "You can say that again."

Whomever said Honesty's the Best Policy never faced off with Shamin. (Of course, Ash admitted, they were probably thinking about Honesty from the very beginning, not after a year of lies. Then the saying would have been something like Honesty May Be the Best Policy, But Better to Remian Alive and Have a Talking Companion.) He knew Shamin wasn't going to take his soul-baring as well or kindly as Miriam had, but he at least thought she'd talk to him and forgive him within a few moments, maybe an hour tops.

Not one week and counting.

He had waited a few days into the cruise, trying to gather up the courage as well as trying to get the chance. Apparently there were a lot of "available" girls on this boat would did their best to weasel him into helping them do something. He never realized girls were so persistant, and it didn't improve Shamin's mood. She indubitably thought he was enjoying the attentions, but nothing could have been further from the truth. They were giggly and annoying and all they did was talk talk talk. To show how much he really despised it, let's just say that despite the darkness lifeboats weren't all that bad. They were actually pretty spacious.

Maybe Ash had chosen bad in his timing to which to bare his soul, or maybe Shamin was just in a bad mood whenever she found out she'd been made a fool off. Ash kicked a stone away. Whatever it was, Shamin was thoroughly pissed at him, and she was just as stubborn as him, had the temper of Misty, the grating silence of Brock, the endurance of Tracey, the arrogance of Gary, and the punch of Miriam. (Well, not punch-punch, but close enough.) He flexed his jaw slightly, remembering.

Ash peeked into his bunk. "Hey, Pikachu. Do you know where Shamin is?"

Pikachu looked up momentairly from Trigger, who was in his own personal version of Hell with the waves and such, which Ash would be privileged to cleaning up later, and nodded. "Chupi pichu," she smiled, pointed up and over towards the aft of the ship. Then her ears tilted slightly. "Chu pi, Pikapi?"

He sighed, running a hand through his freshly dyed hair. "I'm going to try. No promise though."

She gave him a smile of encouragement and a thumbs up for good luck. "Pi ka!"

"Thanks. I'll need it." Ash ducked out the door and started up towards the exit, hands fidgeting nervously in his pockets.

As he entered the deck, the fresh saltiness of the ocean air hit him, and he took a deep breath, remembering the far more innocent times of riding on Lapras' back throughout a League. Ash bit his lip at a guilty reminder. Back to Indigo . . . he really hadn't thought of what that meant until he got onto the boat. He was going to have to do more than just show up at the Plateau. A lot more. He pushed the thought out of his mind and looked at the skyline.

It was a Sailor's Sky, with the delicate reds and pinks of the setting sun upon the shimmering reflective water. The Red at night, yes, definitely the Sailor's delight. Ash frowned, wondering exactly why Sailors take warning at red in the morning. It was just as beautiful as its counterpart.

It was a watercolor sky, a watercolor world, deliate and beautiful and somehow surreal. Ash always loved traveling through mountains and by water when the weather was perfect. The very air was different, and the world took on a much more artistic quality. He liked the fact that he was privy to something other people rarely saw, that was the Pokémon's world, raw and wild and ultimately awe inspiring. Ash had to wonder if other Trainer's felt the same way about it as he did.

Part of him hoped not. Selfishly, he truly hoped not.

Ash turned his attention away from the skies and looked around the deck at the milling people, most who didn't wish to go to bed just yet. It only took him a moment to find Shamin leaning delightfully entranced at the waters. He took a deep breath.

"Okay, Ash, come on now. Miriam took it rather well, and Shamin's a push-over," he coaxed himself under his breath as he started over. "Hey, Shamin."

She smiled slightly, baring him a moment's glance over her shoulder, then looked back down at the water. "Hey, Shan."

He winced more so than usual, then smiled, jumping up to sit on the railing. This was a definite no-no on the ship, but with no personal around, Ash really didn't care about protocol and rules. Of course, if he did get caught, he was probably going to get keel-halled or whatever punishment it was they gave on ships. Dimly he remembered walking the planks, but decided that was pirates."Whatcha looking at?" Ash, you're supposed to be baring your soul here.

"The water. There's a Pokémon. Been following us for somedays, but seems like it's really shy."

"Probably Lapras. Pods follow ships sometimes. Or maybe a Gyarados. They like to nibble on those that fall in." He grinned slyly.

Shamin turned her head, her lips twisted in a less-than-amused expression. "Well, they'd spit you out then. Nasty, foul thing that you are."

That comment hurt, not because she meant it, but because it was suddenly rather true. He rubbed his head nervously and cleared his throat. "Hey, Shamin—"

"Pretty, isn't it?" she interrupted, indicating the sky and such.

He bit his tongue. "Yeah, beautiful," he sighed softly, turning slightly to look out over the water. "I was just thinking that."

"Really?" she asked skeptically, disbelief obvious on her voice.

Ash gave her a soft look. "Really," he repeated truthfully.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," she sniffed.

"You just said it was beautiful!" he laughed.

"I said pretty."

He shrugged. "Same difference," he said lightly, running a hand through his long bangs. He probably should have gotten a haircut as well as a dye-job.

"No it's not. Pretty is just that. Pretty. Beautiful, well, it's just different," she said lamely, unable to explain what she meant.

"So if I say some one or thing is just 'pretty', what am I actually saying? That they're not 'beautiful'?" Ash asked, perplexed.

"What are you saying?"

He blinked at the tone of her voice, confused. "That's why I'm asking. What's the difference? Between 'pretty' and 'beautiful'? They mean the same thing."

"No they don't."

"Then what is the difference?" Ash demanded lightly.

Shamin tutted. "You wouldn't understand."

"Obviously." He looked back at the sky. "I still think it's beautiful, though."

"Why didn't you say pretty?"

Ash looked at her, giving an exasperated smile. "Because . . . because I think it's beautful."

"But pretty means the exact same thing," she spoke in superiority. "So why not say you think it's pretty?" She smiled at Ash's shake of his head. "They don't mean the exact same thing."

"My mistake," Ash chortled, but he knew she made her point rather well. Leave it to a girl to get picky about choices of words. The sun was just delicately sinking into the waters, slipping an arc in to seemingly test the temperature before fully submerging itself. "Well, it is lovely then."

Shamin snorted. "What's with you and the synonyms?"

"I'm being an ass." He grinned at her, then took a deep breath. "You know—"

"Well, what other words describe the scene then?" she asked sarcastically.

He could have, should have just continued with baring his soul, but he didn't want to, so he took the bait. "Hmm, fragile, welcoming, watercolor—"

"Watercolor?" she snorted.

"Like a painting," he explained patiently. It probably wasn't actually a definition, but he always saw it that way. "Gentle . . . enchanting . . . peaceful . . . rosy . . . tranquil . . . romantic." He stopped and blushed slightly. His mouth had been going on automatic, with great and growing pauses between each word as he thought of words to describe the view. He shrugged again, looking back at Shamin. "Pretty, beautiful."

Shamin was looking at him with a delicate expression on her shadowing face. "That all?" she asked quietly, a hint of a smile peeking through as she ducked her head away from his gaze.

He smiled slightly. "I can't think of any more at the moment. Sorry."

"You really are full of surprises," she murmured.

"What'd I do this time?"

She didn't answer, and Ash tilted his head for a moment before looking at the deck boards from between his knees. "Shan . . .?"

Ash winced again. He wasn't very good at this confession thing and he wondered why. His friends had always commented that he was a very honest person, so he should want to set the record straight, but the fact was he really didn't want to get caught in a lie. Which was the inevitable outcome, Ash admitted. "Hmm?" he asked, looking back at her.

"Why did . . ." She paused, licking her lips, then barged forward, "Why'd you call this," her hand waved at the sky, "'romantic'?"

He blushed again. "Well, you know all those movies, riding off into the setting sun and all," he shrugged, then bared a small grin. "Not as popular as eating spaghetti under the full moon and twinkling stars with some fat Italian guy serenading, huh?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "With that mental picture, I have to wonder," she drawled sarcastically.

He chuckled. "It does sound rather weird when you say it like that."

"So tell me, this is your idea of romantic?"

Ash looked back at the sky, embarrassed, tilting his head. "Don't know, actually."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes and looking back at the shimmering water below them, the sun further down the horizon.

They were silent for several minutes, and Ash tensed, knowing that this was the best moment. His hands clutched the railing, knuckles turning white, and took a deep breath. Perhaps it was too deep, because Shamin looked at him curiously.

"You all right?"

"Fine," he half-lied. "Look, Shamin, I've got to tell you something. It's really important, I should have told you a long time ago," he babbled.

"What?" she asked carefully, eyebrows furled.

He avoided looking at her gaze, instead focusing on the importance of his knees and ankles. "We've known each other a bit over a year, you know, and I really, really did want to tell you, it would have been better if I did. But I just never got up the nerve, and now I think you should know, because you should and everything."

"What should I know?" she asked, gently touching his arm. Could he be telling her . . . maybe!

His hands fiddled in his lap, and he bared her a sheepish grin. "You've become a really good friend to me, you know, so I hope you do understand why I never told you."

She smiled brightly. "Didn't want to ruin the friendship, I suppose?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly."

This sounds familiar, she thought excitably, remembering when he last spoke those words. "Well, tell me now," she spoke softly, trying to control her breathing and heart.

Her words gave him confidence, and Ash was sure he could go through it now since she wasn't going to kill him. He leaned down a bit. "You sure you want to hear?"

"Of course," she replied, leaning forward in anticipation of what she expected to happen in the sunset on a romantic cruise ship with little water creatures dancing playfully and the stars just starting to twinkle out . . . She gave a small quiver in expectation.

He spoke bluntly. "My name is Ash."

Shamin's eyes flew open, and her head snapped back. "What?"

"My name's Ash, Ash Ketchum, not Shan. For the past year I have been lying to you. I ran away from home to continue Training," he continued, inattentive to her horrified face.

"You . . . you're . . ." Shamin's mind reeled, unable to form sentances or otherwise as she tried to assimilate the knowledge. Here she had been suspecting a baring of hearts and received a confessional?! "You lied to me!?"

He looked ashamed but nodded. "Yeah. Sorry."

She clenched her fists and teeth, anger raging. "Sorry?! Sorry?! You dare say you're sorry to me like nothing happened! Why you jerk! Here I thought—" She broke off, not wanting to devulge what she was thinking to this cretin, ingrate, ass, idiot! "I can't believe you, Shan! Oh, I mean, Ash!"

"Shamin! Calm down," Ash said, trying to grab her wrists, for her hands had been flaring around dangerously as she started ranting.

"Don't you touch me!" she ordered and pushed him hard. "I hate you!"

Ash fell back with a surprised yell, only managing to grab the railing with a hand painfully as he flipped over. Somehow, twisting painfully, he managed to keep his grip and hung on. He hung speechless, then looked up at Shamin. "Give me a hand up, Shamin!"

"You dare ask me for help!" she fumed, clearly forgetting about the possible outcomes in her rage. "Don't you ever talk to me again, Sha—Ash! As soon as we dock, I'm calling you in for that reward!"

His eyes widened in horror, and Ash struggled to pull himself up with put hands and a painful shoulder. "Shamin, you can't!" he gasped, grabbing her forearm as he stood up on the wrong side of the railing.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" she screamed, instinctively throwing out a fist and connecting both painfully and forcefully with his jaw. Ash fell back again, only this time to land in the water over twenty feet below.

Shamin leaned over the railing. "I hate you and I hope you drown!"

Ash sighed, remembering with embarassment at having being fished out of the water by the crew. He had almost been thrown in the brig—someone got the brilliant idea that he had been trying to rape Shamin. She had come to his rescue, maybe feeling guilty or something, but that was it. She didn't talk to him, speak with him, or anything. Ash tentatively asked her if she really was going to turn him it and met a stony silence and ice-cold glare. He had only asked her once because of such a reaction.

He bit his lip in thought. Obviously he didn't know Shamin as well as he thought he did.

Of course, he didn't claim to know a lot about her, but obviously what he thought was wrong.

For one thing, was she going to still travel with him? Surely, if he was her friend (and Ash did still consider himself her friend, just not a very honest one), he would know the answer to that. But yet Ash had that nagging, lingering doubt, the one that showed he really didn't know the truth or the answer (they were two separate things nowadays). He didn't know the answer.

He didn't know, and it bothered him, and it set him on edge.

He didn't like the idea of being alone, not that he'd admit it, not that he even knew it.

"Pikapi?"

Ash turned his head and looked at Pikachu, who was waving him on. Trigger was sitting expectantly at Shamin's heel, while she—Ash never knew someone could cross their arms so coldly and actually look like they were against something—reguared him like the lowest form of life. At his wan but hopeful smile, she glared and turned away, and he sighed. Both he and Pikachu shrugged their shoulders in mutual hopelessness.

"Come on, guys. Let's go buy a map."

****

Ash was dimly aware that the concept of Blackmail could be forced upon him—indeed, he would have been a fine one to subject the lesson to, yet he was naïve in the actual workings of it. Of course, this did not mean he didn't know anything about it, and he risked another glance over his shoulder to look at the potential blackmailer.

Shamin was riding on Ponyta, which had yet been subjected to any name other than her species. Ash was unsure if this was because to speak the name Shamin would actually have to talk to him to explain the reasoning, or if it was because she had settled on the name "Ponyta" for Ponyta. Whatever her reason, Ash didn't know, but he had offered the ride in an attempt to make Shamin forgive him. It had backfired. There was nothing worse than having a person who is angry with you and not taking to be sitting avobe your head, forever boring their accusing eyes into you. Your guilt just worsened. It made Ash feel like he was three and his mom was yelling at him for breaking a vase or something.

Silence wasn't Silent; it was a loud, throbbing, nerve-wracking sound that made him jump on occasion. Silence was the the moment before the kill, before the Noctowl swooped on the Ratatta, before the girl strangled him. Of course, Ash wasn't that paranoid, but he had a very active imagination. Silence was also always there. No matter how much Ash tried to ignite a conversation, Shamin managed to not respond. If he asked if she wanted a ice-cream cone, she wouldn't respond. (Of course, she would steal it the second he put his down—hey, she didn't say she wanted one—and glare at him, just daring him to scold her.)

The fact was, though, that the Silent Treatment got very old very fast, and Ash was very much fed-up with it. He couldn't do anything about it, but it annoyed him, and he responded with his own sort of Silent Treatment, mostly done by speaking about Shamin in third-person to Pikachu. It was not a method apporved by Pikachu when she was riding on Ponyta, for her Pikapi always managed to make her sounding like she was agreeing with him. Which she wasn't . . . most of the time. And then Shamin would get mad at her.

Humans were very stubborn creatures, Pikachu decided, or at least these two Humans. If Miriam was here, or even Pyro, these two would have spoken about the problems, even if it took extreme torture. Pikachu sighed, wishing this problem could be settled. It was a like a leaky dam. It started small, but soon it would give way and there would be disasterious consequences and many causualities.

She could be one of them.

****

The group met probably one of the most dangerous things in the world. The choice made could decide everything.

Life or Death.

World Peace or World War.

Eternal peace and happiness or Hell on Earth.

In all frankness, they came to a fork in the road.

Ash thought they should go left.

Shamin thought they should go right.

(Trigger thought they should go roll in whatever that was over there.)

Even still, as she held her ear down to block out the noise, Pikachu thought they had also made a truce of some sorts. The two humans were at least speak . . . er, communicating with each other, provided communicating consisted of screaming at the top of their lungs who was right. (Whomever was left standing, hearing, optional, was obviously the right one.) The tiny mouse looked up hopelessly at the two who, under normal circumstances, at least made a small point not to be so loud.

"Look, we go left!"

Shamin glared. "NO! The map says right! We go right!"

"It's a bloody short-cut, damn-it!"

"Short-cuts are long ways!"

"In the world of fiction!" Ash yelled, red-faced. "This is real-life! We're going to cut at least three days off if we go my way!"

"Screw your way!"

"Screw you!"

"You wish!"

His face turned purple. "Give me the damn map!"

Shamin hefted it out of his grasp, trying to block Ash as he leaned over. "You can't even read them! I'm not ending up like Babes in the Woods!"

"You're not gonna end up like some pig! Give me the map!"

"No! And that's not the 'Babes' I meant!"

"I don't know any other Babe, and you certainly aren't talking about you! Gimme!"

Shamin's mouth dropped. "You pig!" There was a moment of unarticulated mutterings and yankings, and finally she sputtered, "Miriam would know what I'm talking about!"

"Well, thank God I'm not Miriam!"

There was a flaring of arms, and the map, torn between who it should side with, decided to be pair and sided with both, tearing down the center. Both Ash and Shamin fell back a few steps, then looked at the half of the map each held in their hands vaguely, then at each other.

"You broke the map!"

"You bloody idiot!"

"You're gonna get us killed!"

"Gimme that half!" Ash rushed towards her, but Shamin, always more lithe and quicker, ducked away.

"Are you nuts! I can't trust you with reading a map, let alone keeping one together!"

Pikachu watched helplessly as the two ran about. "Pika!" she wailed plaintively. "Chupi, Pikapi, cha chu pi! Pi!"

Both ignored her, rushing around until they ended up towering over the mouse, their worn walking shoes coming dangerously close to mushing her tail. Pikachu's eyes widened, and she did her best to avoid the suddenly very careless, but deadly feet that were intent on crushing her skull in, all the while listening to the tirade that flew above her head, whose vulgarity was growing exponentially.

In the end, Pikachu didn't know why she did it, but both feet had come a hair from her tail, her precious tail, and suddenly the last nerve shot. "PiiKACHUUUUU!" she wailed, bringing her ears down and squeezing her eyes shut, releasing a wild thundershock. It wasn't until almost ten seconds after the electricity in the air had died down that Pikachu peeked open an eye, only to grow exceptionally pale at her sight.

"Ohhhhh, I think you killed them," Ponyta whispered in awe, grass dropping from her open mouth, slipping over on tip-hooves.

"No I didn't!" Pikachu squealed in a panic, and strained her ears to hear the slight breathing as she hopped around them, trying to nudge them into consciousness. "Pikapi! Chupi! Wake up!" she wailed, twisting her ears.

Ponyta took a step back. "Are you sure you want them to wake up?" she asked, curiously. "You're gonna be in trouble!"

The mouse bit her paws nervously. "Oh, oh, oh!" Suddenly her eyes went wide, and she dashed past the bodies, signing wildly. "TRIGGER! Stop rolling in that!"

Ponyta stood awkwardly for a moment, tossing her head to look between the unconscious Trainers and the rapidly shrinking Pikachu and Trigger on the road. Finally, she neighed and threw her head back, flames dancing, and trotted back over to the grass to eat peacefully in the blissful silence.

Save for Pikachu's ardent and fading cries of "NOOOOOO!" of course.

*****

****

As first impressions went, Shamin's first impression of Indigo was similar to one's first impression of being mugged and beaten¾something no one wishes to repeat. In fact, to her mind, she had been mugged and most certainly had been beaten. Thanks to poor weather, a continuing run-in and dodging of Team Rocket, not necessarily Tess and Ben, they had arrived to the Plateau amidst a throng of people—tourists, spectators, and last minute arriving Trainers who should damn-Hell know better than to arrive at the last minute, Ash!

There were people everywhere, and they were rude. Shamin actually resorted to having a Death-Grip on Ash's hand as he navigated through the crowds, clutching her bag protectively, (hey, she knew what pickpockets looked for,) and snapping rude retorts at every nudge, push, and other pain that was sent her way. And unfortunately they were heading to the Pokémon Center, which was the center of everyone's pilgrimage, the Mecca, if you will.

It was hardly worth the effort, Shamin thought, once they entered the building. The lines went on forever, crisscrossing and conjoining, and everywhere people were arguing about who was first and I was here, the back of the line's that way, pal. It was hot and sticky, the air conditioning unable to keep up with the body heat (and smell) brought on by so many people. Pressed up against the wall, breathing what was most likely warm Carbon Monoxide and Dioxide than actual Oxygen, Shamin felt her nerves twinge. Pokémon Centers, at least the ones she had been inside, were rather spacious. This was cramp and small and she couldn't move her arms!

"How long do we have to stay in here!" she demanded in a mixture of a whine and hysteria. Ash only picked up the whine and looked at her sourly.

"Do not start with me, Shamin," he growled. "In case you didn't notice, this place is packed. We'll be in here several hours."

"'We'll'?" Shamin repeated sarcastically.

"Well, if you don't want a room and would like to sleep outside, you can leave. But if you do want one, you're suffering with me."

Shamin stuck her tongue out at the back of his head but made no indication of moving. She was going to get a room with air conditioning if she had to stand here all night. Huffing and crossing her arms, Shamin let her ears do some walking as she eavesdropped. Well, not eavesdropped. That implied listening at keyholes or from corners.

"So who do you think's going to win this year?"

"Oh, Todd Reginald, most definitely. He won last year."

"I think JoDee. She's quite good, I've heard."

"Mummy, I wanna see the Pokémon!"

"Move it!"

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear . . . you're both wrong. John Longstran will win."

"No one asked you, Sir!"

"Ash?"

"What?" He sounded exasperated.

"Who's Todd Reginald?"

Ash shrugged. "Don't know. Why?"

"How about JoDee?"

"The singer?"

"John Longstran?"

"Are you making these names up?"

Shamin growled and muttered an obscenity under her breath. "I hope you lose."

"What did you say?"

She grinned innocently. "Nothing."

****

They were in line precisely 5 hours, 13 minutes, and 7 seconds, give or take three days as far as Shamin was concerned. This had been after losing their spot to some elderly (do not believe appearances) gentleman, fought with some mother about something her children had claimed, and were basically butted in front of when they dozed off. As one they collapsed on the counter.

"Hello! Welcome to the Indigo Plateau Pokémon Center!"

Shamin raised her head to glare at the entirely too chipper Nurse Joy behind the counter. "Yeah! Thanks."

"So how may I help you? Please hurry. There are others in line behind you." The smile was either serious, or surgically implanted. Shamin couldn't tell, and she looked over her shoulder.

"We're the last ones here."

"Hmm."

Ash raised a weary head. "Is it possible for me to register for the League?"

Joy gave him a light, teasing voice as she dug for the proper papers. "Cutting it close, aren't you?"

Ash took the papers away. "Yeah. May I have a pen?"

"Are you going to register too?"

Shamin growled quietly as Ash started to fill the forms. "No. What I'd like is a room¾"

"Two rooms," Ash interjected, not even looking up.

"Two rooms where we could lodge? Please."

Nurse Joy's fingers flew over the keyboard. "Oh, dear, I'm so sorry!"

Ash raised his head. "What?" His voice was deadpan. He knew he wasn't going to like this at all.

"I'm afraid we don't have any rooms left for rent. I'm sorry."

Shamin snapped her head towards Ash. "She says they have no rooms left."

"I heard," Ash snapped back. "Do you know of any place where we could find rooms, Nurse Joy?"

Nurse Joy gave them a soft look. "How about I look though the directory while you fill out the forms? And if I find one, I'll inform you."

"Could you just sign us up for the rooms?" Shamin pleaded. "We've been walking all day."

"I will do my best."

Shamin watched as the pink-haired woman left to the other consoles and started to search, then looked over Ash's shoulder at his forms. "Hey, that's not your name, you know?" Her finger tapped the blank that Ash had filled with "Shan".

Ash glared at her. "I don't have to use them my real name. It says use whatever name you feel comfortable being recorded under."

"Lucky you."

"Bug off."

"Pfft. 'Mother¾H. Deliah K-squiggle' and 'Father¾L. Jordan K-squiggle'. Nice. Like no one'll notice that."

"Shut up, Shamin," Ash growled, ignoring her laughter. He was trying to be as honest as possible.

"Hmm . . . 'N/A . . . N/A . . . N/A . . .'?"

"It's none of their business what leagues I've gone to, nor the number of Pokémon I have, nor my starting."

"You're going to get disqualified," she sang.

"You wish."