Where the River Flows Chapter 13: The Return To Cerulean, a pokémon fanfic

Hi! This is Dan, finally back after a long hiatus. At least this is a huge chapter, which I hope will go some way to atoning for the delay!

I'm glad to say I'm going to move onwards with this fanfic, after it's spent far too much time dormant. I'm very thankful to those who kept pushing me to write more, especially smileyali and kawaii cherry blossom. They really have kicked me into gear, and without them chapter 12 would not have been written. Also thanks to Silver Feather and Joy-Girl, and all those that sent me reviews or e-mails about this story and asking for more.

Oh, and by the way, does anyone know why FFnet keeps removing my paragraphing? It's really irritating me...

Well, I suppose I've kept some people waiting too long already, so on with the chapter.

Authors Note:

In the section at the end of this chapter:-

Mistys' POV

Hazels' POV

Joint POV

I Hope this makes it easy to read!

Chapter 12 (continued) – The Return to Cerulean.

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We're here. Really here. Every time I see a familiar street name, a shop I'd once lifted from, maybe even a face with a hint of familiarity, I get this really weird feeling. Really really weird. It's like my body fills with helium or hot air, my fingers tingle, my heart skips a beat, sensations growing stronger and stronger each and every pace - yet each and every pace cold fingers wind their way around my stomach and squeeze, squeeze and pull it down to my boots, and each and every time the digits get colder, the clenching stronger. Conflicting, right but wrong, like skipping with an Ekans as the rope, or flying like a Pidgey with a tether secure around my waist. I don't know, don't know if I am happy or sad, relieved or scared shitless. To be here, my 'home'. Well, close. Barely three blocks from this junction. Still, my neighbourhood, not that I was ever really a part of it. There, just there, the old hopscotch pattern still chalked exactly where it was weeks ago when I left, and had been for so long as I remember. Rain or shine, always there, almost always in use. I feel a pang of amusement as a girl well over half my age throws a stone, and then hops like a dervish after it only to find her over-enthusiastic jumping has caused her skirt to flap up and reveal normally concealed clothing to a bunch of now sniggering boys. They slide out of my sight just as a heated argument begins. Heh, in ten minutes time she'll probably just run home in tears and tonight it'll all be forgotten anyway. But the chalk pattern will remain, waiting for another bored kid to throw a stone. I bet that if I scrubbed the stone clear of chalk I'd find the pattern scored into the pavement underneath, irremovable.

The players come and go, but the game is there forever.

Guess that makes sense.

"So, which way now?" Ash slips a sleeve across his forehead, and jiggles his well-worn 'handbag' into a more comfortable position.

"Right here, a few hundred yards, then left. That should get us there." Mistys' pale face snaps up, poorly concealed horror in her eyes.

"No! We're not going there!" I can sense Chikorita and Pikachu both centre their attention on her, each as puzzled as I am.

("And why not? I thought that we were headed to the gym. There's a couple of old friends that I want to say hi too.") Pikachu huffs, looking thoroughly miffed.

"I don't want to go there right now." Fine. Doesn't make a blind bit of difference to me. Seems to to Pikachu though.

("What's the problem? C'mon Ash, there's a Quagsire there that owes me a rematch!")

"NO!" Misty is adamant. I glance down at Cyndaquil to find him looking as puzzled as I feel.

("Ash?") Chikorita peers up at our leader, hoping to stop the fight before it starts. He says nothing for a minute, chewing his lip absently while his gorgeous chocolate eyes study Misty intently. Misty, for her part, is now studying the pavement with equal intent. The rest of us watch, heads flicking back and forth as if watching a fast game of tennis.

"Pokemon centre it is." He holds up a tired hand to stop complaints before they start. "No arguments. Pikachu, we can drop by the gym later. Purely in passing, you understand." He adds, as a pair of cerulean blue irises flick up in warning. "It's pretty near the centre I think. Misty has her reasons, I'm sure, so let's respect them."

("Always their bloody wishes. Whatever happened to respecting mine?") Pikachu mutters darkly, storming past me and after Misty, who has taken the lead in guiding everyone to the Pokemon centre, probably so she doesn't have to look anyone in the eye. This annoys me, but not as much as maybe it used to. I haven't forgiven her for what she said yesterday, no one calls me a slattern, no one. But I do kinda feel sorry for her, she's probably got the same kinda feelings about coming back as I have. I can tell, can see it, she's not keen to be here, there's something, or someone she's avoiding. After feeling that myself for so long, it's easy to recognise. But unlike her, I'm here to stare it down.

("Another day, another quarrel. Sheesh, any more of this and I'm going to retire to a pokeball and to hell with existence.") Cyndaquil sighs from around my feet. We come to an intersection, and I catch sight of the sea, barely a hundred yards away. I pause as my foot enters the gutter, head swivelling to my left and staring down the semi-deserted street. There. Only a short hopscotch away. If I threw a stone hard as I could, and then skip after it, then maybe, just maybe, I'd stop there.

At the doorway.

My doorway.

Then up the stairs, avoiding the loose step three from the top, and seven paces. And then...

Then...

Then...I don't know.

But I do know I'm not quite ready. The freezing fingers holding my belly in a crushing grip tell me this. My trembling lower lip tells me this. The dryness of my mouth is a reminder, in case I don't get the other clues.

"Hazel! Try to keep up, else you'll end up in a room at the other end of the hotel!" Ash calls to me, from quite a distance away. I wave in response, still contemplating the doorway. Not now. No, not now.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow afternoon. And I'm going alone.

Alone. My problem, my mess, my hell. Mine to defeat.

Until then, may as well enjoy the day. I don't want to be lonely now. Tomorrow is mine alone, but today is still here. And if I don't catch up, I might end up by myself. I really don't want that. I want Ash to talk to. And to spy on in the shower, but that's tonight's entertainment. I know a couple of rooms in the pokemon center – stroke - hotel that I'd raided for toiletries and linen back before I left that had dodgy locks. And Ash is such a hunk... Half blushing and half smirking at the vision, which erases thoughts of fear from my mind, I jog after the others, and miss the van pulling up in front of the doorway I had fixed upon only seconds before.

It would have been easier had I stayed and watched.

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I suppose the smell couldn't have got much worse. It was so bad I had to call the public health division and complain. They resolved to see to things 'ASAP'. Now, several days later, ASAP seems a bit of a lie to me. This, it's a putrid odour, an oddly foul and musky scent that is almost visible, some kind of malevolent ghost or spectre that is possessing the whole place through sheer spite. My pets have been edgy too, and my boyfriend, well, he's gone on the offensive with air-fresheners and deodorant. No luck on either count. The promised 'breath of fresh that breathes life into the home' quickly takes on the tone of a gasp from beyond the grave, and the boast of 'ultimate freshness' proves to be no match against the ultimate stench.

"Sheez, it's like someone's died or something! Doesn't he ever throw things away?" My boyfriend moans, craning a hand up to open a window. I ignore him, trying to concentrate on a book. Better than focusing on the odour. I remember when that guy upstairs had left seven bags of rubbish to rot in his kitchen, then it took three visits by 'officials' before he would let them in to do something about it. That was pretty bad, but this is worse.

"Mwoooowrrrrr!" One of my cats expresses her dislike for the situation by scratching hell out of a table leg before waltzing onto the arm of a sofa. I know that the guy upstairs is not a pleasant bloke, and that he hoards rubbish and waste, but it's all getting a bit excessive...

A loud rapping on the main door to the flats causes the cat, once seated on the arm of the sofa, to tumble from it without even a measure of feline grace. I peer out of the window and sigh in relief. They're finally here. I exit the flat and open the front door to the building, directing the members of the public health division upstairs. Finally. That guy upstairs must be saving up out-of-date food again. I head back into the flat to find my boyfriend readying himself to go to work. Eleven-Seven, five times weekly. I don't see as much of him as I would like to, but it helps pay the bills as even with my current well-paid job we need more money.

"Well, I'm off. See you tonight. Hope we can enjoy a candle-lit dinner without the flames burning with a green edge." He kisses me on both cheeks before leaving, and I contemplate the anniversary dinner we have planned this evening. It should be good, we're both reasonable cooks and even better washers up. Half of the fun of making a meal is clearing away afterwards, especially when it leads to a bubble fight or something similar.

A few minutes later, after seeing what they bring down from upstairs, I kinda lose my appetite.

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Here at last. I thought my eardrums were going to burst from the sheer volume of silence. It's not unusual for everyone to be quiet while we're walking, but normally the reason for any the lack of voice is the fact that we're all too busy trying to use the air for breathing. Some of those hills out in the country were pretty damn steep, and that's coming from a hardened walker like me.

"So, that'll be a triple room, for how many nights?" Joy peers up from her computer screen, businesslike smile perfectly in place. She must paint it on every morning, like a clown or something, since it never seems to slip. But I noticed her brief look of suspicion when Ash strolled in with two girls and asked for a triple room. I wonder what she thinks the human portion of the group are going to get up to in it. But credit to her, if you hadn't been watching closely, you would have missed it.

"Uh, we're not sure yet, but it'll be three at least, although….." I tune out Ash's rambling, and let my mind drift onto the image of Joy applying a smile in the morning with a roller and a paintbrush. The whole family must have some kind of secret paint, I reason, because every single one has the same expression. Well, except for the one back in that dodgy town, I know she was up to no good. I could have sworn that she had fangs…..Uhhhh, really not good.

"So how are you going to pay sir?" The overly cheery voice of our potential host awakens me from a shuddering fit, and gets me back on to the subject of paint. They could call it Joy-paint, it would work as a play on words because that'd pretty much sum up its effect. It'd sell like lightning, for everyone who isn't a morning person. Be as miserable as you like, Joy-paint keeps you smilin'. I think I could get away without it most mornings, I usually quite enjoy the fresh sparkle of a new day. But it would be useful after those nights when I've been dreaming of fish….. Uhhhh, slimy, slimy fishies…..

"You having a fit Pikachu?" Hazel's loud mouth shocks me out of the second shuddering fit in as many minutes, and I glance up at her to see a tiny smile pinch her mouth. Oddly, I don't bristle at this.

("Nah, thinking about fish.") She looks puzzled, and I shake my head. ("You really don't want to know. It'd put you off Magikarp for life.")

"Oh. Well, okay." After the verbal shrug, she grabs the 'handbag' which Ash had set down and staggers over to the desk, before leaning into the continuing conversation with an expression of interest. Don't know why, all they're doing is trying to work out the price, although if haggling is involved I bet she'll have Joy by the short hairs.

"Cash? Well, fine, but I don't have much change."

"Maybe we can compromise on the price then?" Hazel's grin is almost predatory. Joy looks taken aback, and for a moment, her paint nearly cracks. She also has this look of half-recognition, like she knows Hazel from somewhere and doesn't like it for some reason. But then her smile is back again, albeit wary, and she nods slightly. I reckon Hazel will get twenty percent off, plus an upgrade.

("Son of a-") Chikorita chokes off mid-swear, as she tries to drag another bag across the lobby. Mistys' to be precise, because soon as the redhead reached the welcome mat her bag hit the floor and she wobbled off into the toilets, and has not been seen since. Hope I'm not the one who has to go in and get her.

Misty has been getting more and more irritable and skittish with every step towards Cerulean, but now we're here it's like panic has taken over. I guess I looked like that when a fire blast was coming at me, closer and closer, with no way of escape, in a certain volcano gym all those years ago. I feel a bit guilty at snapping at her earlier, I guess she has reasons for not wanting to go home. All I want is a battle, she's got more important things on her plate. Guess I should respect that. And she's not the only one whose been affected by our return to the city.

"Oh come on, I remember rates here used to be half that - not quite in high season, y'know, but..." Hazel seems to be getting into her stride, something which is always dangerous. She's rough and ready as always, but I remember when she stopped on the pavement, staring off into the distance. She's scared witless, the tremor in her hands and voice a dead giveaway. Seeing her act now I would never have guessed, but to someone observant, it's obvious. Well, that's what Cyndaquil told me anyway.

("I think she'll get ten percent.") Speak of the devil.

("Twenty.")

("Bet you the usual.") I almost hear a chuckle in his tone.

("Three wishes? You're on.") We both go back to watching the argument, or 'discussion' as Hazel put it, now with the bet fuelling our interest. Well, Cyndaquil, goes back to watching it, I instead take some time to examine the blueness of the centre's lobby. I thought I was wading into a giant swimming pool as I came in. The floor was a fetching deep blue, an ocean blue mural of a Horsea fashioned in the middle of it. The walls were tiled a stylish smoke blue with powder blue interspersed forming lots of nice blue patterns. The ceiling a cheery sky blue. The architecture around the place very calming and soothing. And blue. The seats plush, striped with royal blue and what at first appeared to be white, but was in fact very pale blue. The window frames and lamp shades the colour of a Squirtle's shell. All in all, it was really, really nice.

But just a bit too, ah, what's the word?

Oh yeah. Blue.

("They got a redevelopment grant apparently.") Cyndaquil murmurs, seeing my wandering eye. ("The council said they would give it to the owners if it reflected Cerulean City well.") He slips me a sly grin. ("I'm guessing that they were a little over the top.") I chuckle a little, looking up to where the conversation appears to be coming to an end, Hazel looking satisfied if not delighted. Right then, Chikorita nudges Ash's foot, with an obvious wince of pain. I feel a pang of shame at her discomfort as Ash looks down to listen to whatever she wants to add. Whatever it is it needs discussion, as Ash, Joy and Hazel re-open negotiations. I glance to my left, and feel another pang of shame as a clear frown passes onto Cyndaquils' normally mellow features. And I rather doubt that it's got anything to do with the continuation of the argument, but more to do with a small green bundle of bruises.

Why did all of this start up again between us? Really?

Was it Jealousy? Frustration? Exhaustion?

Was I so used to fighting that I had to find someone to hurt for my own sanity?

I know that the last month has not been the easiest, far, far from it. Everything building on everything else, one on another, on another, on another. All of the reasons I've thought of are true. There's always been an edge between us, I was his first, she the one who placed loyalty above all else.

But that's not enough on it's own, none of them are, none of them our animosity, not really. I think the real reason is that the wounds that were opened so wide by that time in Pallet three years ago have never really closed...

I think it's time someone closed them.

"So, that's a triple room, en-suite, with sea view for five days, with the option of extension. So, that comes to..." My daydream reaches an end as Ash hands over the cash and thanks Joy with a smile, one she returns with her pearly teeth gleaming.

"Thanks a bunch!" Hazel chirps, turning away from the desk with Ash. Soon as they do so the professional smile on Joy's face peels off like an unwelcome plaster, and she gives Hazel's back a look of intense, well, not sure exactly what, but intense does sum it up. Looks like I've found the paint stripper for Nurse Joy's gloss finish, and she's currently complaining loudly to my dark-haired partner.

"Aaaa-aaah-ash! I had her price way down! Why did you have to knock it back up?" She puts on a pout, but her eyes are tinged with mischief.

"We don't want to bankrupt the whole company, Hazel." Ash stretches his arms up above his head yawning widely. "Besides, I got us en-suite and a sea view for that ten percent I offered back to her. Not to be sniffed at, plus I'd rather not get lynched when I get up tomorrow. Or should I say today." He yawns again, and I swear this time I can see his tonsils. Tonsils? Mistys' incessant reading must be working on me.

"But in the end we only got half what I had her down to!"

"I'm too knackered to argue with you Hazel. You know quite well that I told you I wasn't going to take any more than ten percent off before we came in here..." I tune out of the conversation to glare at Cyndaquil, who is giving me the sort of grin normally reserved for Meowths who are about to make lunch from an ignorant Spearow.

("Bastard.") I growl, giving him the sort of glare normally reserved for homicidal maniacs who are about to plunge an axe into someone's spine.

("One born every minute. So that's one day of you obeying my commands. Nice. I've got plans for you...") I bet. Last time I had to buy him lunch and dinner, in between fan him while he was watching soap operas. And he had to choose the one that I couldn't stand, where the only thing more offensive than the characters were their accents.

("You really are a bastard.") I forgot my number one, never to be broken rule. Never, ever bet against Cyndaquil. He just shrugs, smug smile smeared across his mouth, before going off to help Ash get Misty out of the toilet. Although I don't think standing near the entrance and murmuring her name at just above whisper level is going to bear fruit.

"Ah, let me." Hazel strides into the toilet, and proceeds to let fly a sentence not normally considered polite in public. It's effective though, as a brown-haired blur flashes across the concourse and up the stairs, followed by a screaming red-haired blur. The four of us all just watch at the staircase until the sound of pounding feet and cursing dissipates, and then simultaneously let out a tired sigh.

It's going to be a long few days.

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Ah, nothing like winning a good bet. And the fact that I knew I would win it before it was placed just adds to the satisfaction.

Everyone sees me as an honest, pleasant soul, who can listen without being judgemental, and discuss without arguing. And, really and truly, I am. I like to see harmony. Prefer peace. And I just enjoy helping people, listening and understanding. Especially Ash. He needs me right now, that's why I came back. Everyone else has him. Who has he got?

So yeah, I love helping people out. And I'm basically honest. I don't think I'm being arrogant saying that.

But it doesn't mean I can't use the fact people believe I'm straight as an arrow now and then. I know Pikachu knows this, but every now and then she'll unwittingly give me a chance.

And this was one I wanted to take.

Because I have plans.

I'm going to sort out a problem, which has been going on too long, once and for all.

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Misty likes bathrooms. At least that's how it seems to me, since she has chosen to become intimately acquainted with the one in our triple room only minutes after she got through the door. The door has a lock, but some humorist has removed the knob you twist from the inside to actually activate it. Therefore there isn't a lock that works. Why does this always happen? We never seem to end up with doors that will shut properly. It must be some in-joke among the Joy crew to automatically issue to any party with members of both genders a bathroom door which won't lock. Although, when I was up at the desk insisting that we got several keys, so we could all come and go as wished, I recall Hazel being very specific about this room. Perhaps she just likes the number...

"Yay! Sea View!" Oh, and that. Hazel stops bouncing on the bed, and hurries to the window. I use my vines to lever myself up onto the sill, wincing slightly. Once I've taken in the dying flowers in the window box (they always forget to water them, it really annoys me! Plants have feelings too, y'know!) I join her looking over the ocean.

("It's so pretty...") I breathe.

"Yeah, it's gorgeous." She replies, and she's not lying. There's only one block between here and the coast, and beyond a golden beach the sea shines sapphire blue in the summer sun.

("The sun is fine today.") I comment, eyeing the scene with contentment. ("And you can see right out to the cape, clear as day.") It's like a painting hanging on the wall, this sight. If you put a frame around it, I would have been fooled as I walked in. As I scan the scene, in the middle distance I spy the Cerulean Cape, a place I'd heard much about but never have visited before. Apparently it's a famous place for lovers to declare their feelings. Wish I had someone I could take there.

"I've always loved that cape. Everyone here does, but I love it most." Hazel murmurs, eyes fixed on the same sight as mine. "It was the place furthest from home I could get without actually leaving. At night, when the sun went down, I'd dive into the water and watch the Starmie come to the surface, and imagine that the sky was both above and below, white lights in blackness. It made me feel like I was floatin' in space. And that maybe life was worth living..." She suddenly seems so old, an aged woman looking through the face of a young girl. "I was always dreamin' that, one day, I'd dive into the water and everythin' would all wash off, so I'd climb out of the water with a new life. But that ain't happened yet." She sighs deeply, eyes still locked at the cape but focused miles beyond the horizon. "I want to dive in there, the next time, and come out clean an' new. That's all I want." She turns away, shaking her head. "I know that ain't happened yet. Thing is, maybe it never can." With that she busies herself with her bag, but not before I see a tear seep from her brown eyes.

"Okay, we're all set." Ash puts his portable clock on the bedside table between his and Mistys' bed, having wisely chosen the middle bed of the three. I make a note to grab the end of it for tonight.

"What?" Hazel disguises a sly swipe at her tears by checking her bag closely, before dumping it in the corner and flinging herself onto the bed by the window.

"I said we're all set. Unpacked and tidy. But the first thing I do when we go out is get a new bloody rucksack." He tosses it at the wastepaper bin, which it knocks over. "I was going to ask Joy about where to go to get one, but I could just see her thinking 'I bet he's got contraceptives in his pocket' when we walked in." I laugh at the thought, but Hazel seems confused.

"Contra-whats?" I look at Ash. Ash looks at me. Then, simultaneously -

"Never mind Hazel." She frowns and pouts.

"Ah, c'mon! You know I'm no good at those big words! Gimmie a break." Ash gets a look of resignation on his face and goes over to sit by her, while I go to find Cyndaquil. I find him out in the corridor, looking very pleased with himself. My back stiffens as I see Pikachu coming up behind him, looking less impressed. As I wait for him, I hear Hazel burst out laughing.

"It's not that funny." Ash sounds amused too.

"It is! I thought they're all called Johnnies or something like! Bwahahahaaaa!" Her coarse, bawling laugh is so infectious, especially after her morose mood a minute ago, that I find myself joining in.

"Well, they are, or certain – items are..." Ash's voice cracks, and within moments he's joined in too.

"And you're saying you don't have any Ash? Oh come on, I'm sure you've got 'em for an emergency or something!" Ding! Instant silence. One, two, three...

"Ah, maybe just a couple, you never know!" The people downstairs must be wondering what the hell is going on, since the hysterical sounds are loud enough to drown out thought, let alone noise. As one of them starts to choke on the air, I grab hold of Cyndaquil.

("Are we going out again?") He shrugs before answering.

("I expect so, we could do with some food. Besides, I don't want to hang around here with Misty in the mood she's in.") I nod at this, and head back into the room. ("Hey Ash, Hazel, can we go have a look round?") Hazel tenses a little, but relaxes again when Ash places his hand on hers.

"Don't worry Hazel, if we see him he'll be lucky if he gets the chance to blink." She looks reassured, and nods, moving to put her shoes back on.

("What about Misty?") Ash and Cyndaquil share a concerned look at Pikachus' question.

("I'm sure she'll be fine, I'm sure she's in the bathroom avoiding us rather than because of nature's call.") I silently agree with my flame-backed friend's assessment, and it seems everyone else does too.

"Okay, that's settled." Ash knocks on the bathroom door, and calls through it carefully. "Mist, we're going to head out and get some food. You want anything?" A mumbled response comes out, but it sounds pretty negative. "Okay. We'll see you later, take care, Mist." The way Ash speaks, it's like he's pleading. I wonder why he is so worried, I know that Misty has been unwell recently, but it's not that bad, is it?

"Ash! Let's go!" Hazel has already left the room, and doesn't seem to appreciate the hold-up.

("Yes, yes, keep your hair on will you?") Pikachu grumbles, setting off after her.

("I'm always amazed how fast she can change track.") I murmur, as the rest of us leave the door, and Ash closes it with a quiet click.

("Got to agree with you there.") Cyndaquil replies wryly, as Pikachus' pursuit of Hazel seems to develop into a race.

"But I'm guessing that she might find things here that she can't ignore." Ash adds, as the two in front of us round the corner and disappear into the stairwell, Hazel whooping all the way.

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23rd July - Evening. Another day gone by. Nothing seems to be different. I am sorry, my diary, that I have not written in you earlier. But seconds melt into minutes, melt into hours, melt into days. I know I should've made my choice today. But I didn't. I saw a way out, and took it. Now tomorrow awaits, the 24th. And it's going to be decided one way or the other.

I wish that tomorrow would never come. Perhaps I should seek a way to prevent its arrival...

No. That would just be another way to run. I can't run, it wouldn't be right.

I've only run once before. And yes, that became a wonderful mistake. Without that mistake I would not have had the experiences I have. But such luck can only come once in a lifetime, I'm willing to bet. So I will stand and face my fate. Although there is no way that I can see fate smiling on me...

I go to the window and peer out into the gathering dusk, trying my best to ignore the ghostly reflection that resides in the glass.

They went out, and that was hours past. But that is perfect for me. It left time with my books, allowing frantic attempts at forcing unwelcome knowledge into my uninterested mind. A final fling, a grasp at the cliff edge, one I knew at the time would be futile at best.

They went for food.

I'm hungry. God almighty, am I hungry.

But that is my victory. Even when inevitable failure comes my way in only a few hours, I can still prove to the world that I am still, somehow, victorious. Victorious in the most difficult fight of all, the one against your own self. I must succeed, else I will have simply failed.

Failure was something that has never been acceptable. No, of course this did not extend to trifling matters, such as who can dance the tango, or who can sing a song in tune. All told, they are only simple pleasures, like painting on the street for pennies. Sweet, simple and insignificant.

Some make an art from the frivolous, and well done them.

But in matters of life, things that will define the future, define the self, failure is what the faceless have achieved. I remember it, many years ago, those words that defined the world for me.

"If you ask me the names of the winners who passed this way over last year, I will give you a speech.
If you ask me to name the losers, I will give you silence."

He paused, giving me a searching look with Cerulean eyes, eyes like those that see for me. And then, the mantra which I follow to this day.

"You're famed, or you're forgotten.

You're respected, or rejected."

He would pause, and just stare at me. And I would stare back, waiting for him to finish. And, after a moment, he would.

"Which will you be?"

To which I would always respond with 'famed and respected'. And it was always a game to the young me. But it has become more and more. I can see that he is right, that those who fail vanish into oblivion.

So, I make sure that if I can't be a success through academic means, I will still prove to the world that I have succeeded. That I can turn a humdrum, undesirable body into a temple, show that the ugly can be controlled, show the gross and obese can be tamed, reformed into something sleek and svelte.

But.

It is not easy. Or simple.

I stare levelly at the thing that returns the gaze. With unwanted skin and flesh. Unbidden, my hands move down and unbutton the simple blouse I wear like a shield. The fingers move higher and higher, and I follow them with dread, the dread of the condemned as she takes her final steps. The blouse is open, and there is still flesh adorning these bones. Too much, too much.

But I can see the outlines of my lowest ribs through the waste, and a tiny smile cracks my face. The battle is not over, but the war is being won. The smile dies as my eyes trace upwards, and see the greed and gluttony that still embellishes my chest within the confines of clothing. Represented by two swellings sat mockingly upon me, resisting my attempts at correction.

Still work to be done.

When the inevitable takes place, I will be in debt until I can show the world that I an victorious in the battle against the treacherous self. Then will I have compensated for my failure.

But until then...

I re-button my blouse with finality, and draw the curtains on the figure who mimics me. Reflection is a thing that is not wanted now. All that matters now is ignoring the rodent-like gnawing that sits within my belly, trying with all it's might to lead me astray, and learn for tomorrow. Empty as the attempt is.

But it is all I can do. It would make me, and him proud.

Which is all that really matters.

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It's been said in some situations that 'youcould cut the tension with a knife'.

This morning a knife wouldn't even made a mark. A blowtorch maybe would. Or a diamond-tipped drill. But a knife? No, even with the strongest hands wielding it, it would only shatter upon the tension of today.

I'm not surprised that I have woken up this morning to the sort of atmosphere only seen in hyper-dramatic stories written by someone who should know better. But all the same, it isn't comfortable. I want to get out of here worse than Gene Hackman wanted to get out of the S. S. Poseidon. And for anyone who has never heard of the film 'The Poseidon Adventure', that's pretty badly.

"I'm going to go get a paper. Okay?" Ash pulls on his second shoe and looks to either side at the two girls laying huddled in bed and resolutely staring at their respective walls. "Anyone want to come with me?"

("I will!") Chikorita is a little too close on the end of Ash's question, I suppose she wants to get out as fast as I do.

("Me too!") I add, hopping down from the end of the bed, weariness from last night's marathon trek around Cerulean making its presence felt. The unpredictable but always energetic Hazel (well, energetic until this morning) had dragged us from one end of the city to another, although carefully avoiding a few areas.

("Me three!") I glare at Pikachus' rubbish joke as she eagerly joins the group, easily as uncomfortable as the rest of us.

"Okie dokey. You girls want anything?"

"...Zzzzzzz..."

"...Guess not." We all ignore the blatantly fake snores as we head out and go searching for a newsagent. This takes about thirty seconds, since there is one across the road. A copy of 'The Kanto Times' (with the tag line 'we deliver news faster than the Ponyta Express' upon it's front page) in hand, we stop outside the shop with the knowledge that we need a reason not to go back to the pressure cooker that is room six sixty-six (co-incidence? I can't believe it is).

("So, Pikachu, didn't you say there was a Quagsire at the Gym you had unfinished business with?") I ask, and within a second everyone else has taken the excuse with both hands.

("Oh, yeah! I hope he's up on his game today, else he's gonna find out what happens when you piss me off.") Pikachu decides to flex her verbal muscles, probably just relieved she doesn't have to go back to face Hazel and Misty. Mistys' intensity I can fully understand, but Hazel's is unclear. Maybe the fact she is where she is is getting to her.

"Pikachu, I already know what happens when you're pissed off. Just make sure you keep things under control." Ash murmurs, spying a sign declaring the direction to the gym and setting off.

("Didn't you learn last time that it won't work? How do you hope to win? Ground types will ground your electricity every time.") Chikorita grins with insufferable smugness. ("Maybe I should do the job, I'm perfectly set to take this kind of fighter. Even injured he'll play into my hands, and I'll have way more chance than you ever would.")

("You'll see just how wrong you can be...") I tune out the bickering and instead take in the smells and sights of Cerulean City. I've only been here a couple of times. But every time the fresh sea air and blue sky is refreshing. Especially at this time of year, with high summer approaching. The antagonism of Chikorita and Pikachu becomes indistinct as I gaze at the sky, amazed that it always seems so, well, blue here. If it weren't for gravity, I wouldn't know what was the sky and what was the sea. Even so, the two almost seem to reflect each other. I remember hearing somewhere that there was 'no black and white in the blue' and I still love that saying. No difference, no distinctions, just the blue...

"Will you to give it a rest?" I guess the blue doesn't so easily distract Ash. He's currently frowning at the other two, who have ceased in their endless argument at the outburst from the human among us. A few moments of silence and we're on our way again, with the two pokemon that aren't me looking well and truly cowed by his telling off. I don't mind the quiet now, it gives me the chance to listen to the sea lapping at the land. People are wrong when they say I can't stand water. I love it. So long as I'm stood at least ten feet from it.

After a ten-minute stroll, we come to the Cerulean Gym. And it doesn't look in a much better state compared to last time I was here. And last time it was only just avoiding the label 'a dump'. Mistys' sisters spend so much time looking after their own looks that they've not given the building a coat of foundation for a few years. Although, I note as I walk through the sliding doors into yet another abyss of blue, they have taken good care of the inside. Maybe I was being a little bit unfair in my assessment.

"Ashy-boy!" Although maybe not. There's more paint on Lily's face than on the Sistine Chapel ceiling. One of Mistys' interchangeable older sisters glomps Ash in a way that would make the youngest sisters' face red as her hair. Especially given the swimsuit she's wearing.

"Uh, hi Lily." Ash tries to slide out of her grip, but there's no way he's escaping without getting the girl's lipstick (which is somehow even pinker than her hair) on his face. Twice.

"It's been so long since my sister's cute boyfriend came by!" She turns her head to the door I know that heads off into the living section and calls for the others. In moments, we're surrounded and being fawned over by three excitable girls, Daisy still wearing curlers in her hair.

"Aw, Ashy-boy is growing up so fast!"

"Yeah, he's gotten so, like, cute!"

"And Pikachu, you still look so adoooooooreable!"

"Cyndaquil, you want me to teach you how to, like, swim? I remember the first time, the way you almost drowned, that was sooooo funny!" Yes, I remember that too. I wouldn't describe it as funny.

"Chikorita! Love the leaf darling, but white isn't you're colour. Why are you wearing bandages anyway?"

"Oh my, d'you want me to teach you the breast-stroke, Ashy-darling?"

"Who's your hairdresser? These curlers are real bad for your hair."

"Where's little sis?"

"Yeah, where is little sis?"

"True, is little sis off on a strop again?"

At this the torrential downpour of excitement and bad grammar stops, and all three of the sensational sisters stare at Ash.

"She's back at the centre, revising for tomorrow."

"Oh, okay, she's got that exam thing tomorrow hasn't she?" I'm a little surprised Lily remembers, and judging by Ash's face he is too. "Well, wish her luck from us, yeah?"

"Yeah, I will." The three sisters nod almost solemnly, before breaking out into grins again, ones big enough to expose several rows of pearly white teeth.

"So, you wanna like hang out here for a bit? Catch up and all that?" It seems to me like we've got a dilemma here. Mistys' pretty damn clear she wants nothing to do with this place at the moment, so staying almost seems like betrayal…..

"Sure, why not?" Ash doesn't even hesitate. Come to mention it, he's wearing swim shorts. Looks like he was planning to stay.

("Beats the atmosphere back at the flat.") Chikorita adds, before wandering off to inspect a pool filled with aquatic plants.

"Cool!" Daisy shoots a look at her two sisters, along with a tiny wink. One that has me backing away from them quickly…..

"Get 'im!" Lily gives a war cry and in a flash the three of them are on Ash, tearing his shirt off. Before you can say 'isn't that indecent assault?' Violet and Lily are carting him an arm and a leg each over to the poolside ignoring his (admittedly feeble) struggling. What happens next is inevitable.

"On three! Ah one! Ah two! Ah Threaaaah!" As they let him go, my friend snags an arm from each of his captors and the three of them go flying into the pool with an almighty splash. I'm glad I managed to get out of the spray zone. But hang on a minute, where has Daisy gone?

"Oh no sweetie pie, you're coming too." A pair of hands scoop me up from behind, and I suddenly see my life flashing before my eyes. Because, again, what's going to happen is inevitable. And for the record I leave all my worldly goods to Ash to do with them as he sees fit. I take a deep breath as my captor sprints towards the water, and brace for impact as she dives forward into a full somersault.

After a few moments of terror, I reason it's not as bad as I thought it would be. Yes, the water is definitely wet. That never changes. But it's pretty warm, and since I'm sitting on Daisy's remarkably flat stomach as she lazily floats on her back towards a raging water fight, I can honestly say I've had worse rides.

"No, not the face!" Violet's voice shrieks as she gets a gallon of water in her mouth. "Look, Daisy's there, go after her!"

"Easy girls, I can't get my hair too wet with these curlers in. Besides, I've got a passenger." She turns around in a half-circle and I see Ash looking the happiest he has for weeks, alongside a flushed Lily and a glowing Violet.

"Aww, cute!" Lily gushes, while the blue-haired girl paddles over, eyes getting the look they had just before Ash was indecently assaulted. I can feel my anxiety beginning to peak as she gets within dunking distance…..

"Violet, knock it off sis." Daisy kicks out and we glide out of reach, steering around to move towards the other two. "No dunking while he's on board." I know Daisy would have difficulty working out what I was trying to say to her, but she picks up on my surprise easily. "Come on love, last time you were here I had to do a full-depth dive to fish you out. Now I know your little green friend promised to help you learn to swim, but I doubt you want to take a dip in the deep end, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry little guy. Shoulda thought of that. A bit, like, cruel to make ya go in again." Violet smiles warmly at me, before turning her attention on my ship. "But if ya think that he makes you, like, safe Daisy, you wait 'til later. We'll make it up to ya."

"Sure, sure." The oldest sister cruises over to the poolside, allowing me to hop off.

("Thanks!") She gives me a wink, and then spins into a fast swim towards her sisters and my brother. Seconds later, the fight is back on in earnest. Guess she doesn't care about her curlers any more.

("So what happened to my rematch?") Pikachus' grumpy voice comes over my shoulder. ("I thought that was why we were coming here.")

("I'm sure you'll get it soon, but let Ash have his fun for now.")

("Oh, okay.") Ten minutes later four panting figures are laying on their backs, floating idly in the water after the kind of battle that would have shocked Napoleon with its ferocity. Ash is still coughing up water and giving Lily a bit of a glare after she tried a quick 'friendly' grope mid-battle, and Violet is a nice shade of flame red after part of her escaped her bathing suit.

("D'you think I can have my match now?") Without waiting for a response, Pikachu bounds over to the water's edge and calls out. ("Hey Ash, we've got a battle to win!")

"In a while, Pikachu. No rush." My yellow counterpart bristles.

("Hey! I thought we were coming here to battle!") Ash drops his legs and turns around, treading water.

"We did. But the water is fine, why not join us for a bit?" Pikachu growls, and turns her back on the pool. Ash sighs deeply, and then glides over to the sisters before gesturing them close and starting to talk, presumably to tell them what it was my frustrated friend was on about.

("Hiya everyone. Uh, what the hell has been going on here?") Chikorita saunters back into the main pool hall, exploration evidently complete. ("There's more water out of the pool than in it.")

("I think you can probably guess.") She nods, and glances at Pikachu, who is now scowling at the aquamarine ceiling.

("And what's up with her?")

("I think you can probably guess.") Another nod, this time with a snort.

("Typical.") Now, predictably, Chikorita rather than the ceiling is the recipient of the scowl.

("Ah, shut up. We came here for a battle, and I want to get it.") She stiffly folds her arms. ("But they're too busy mucking about in the pool to give me my chance.")

("Let us have a bit of time off would you? Sheez, we didn't come here just for you to try and beat the hell out of some Quagsire. It's a chance to kick back and relax a bit.") Chikorita and Pikachu, unconsciously, are facing up to each other. I can see where this is going to go already.

("I don't want to relax, I want a fight! I haven't had a real one for too long. Why can't we do what I want for once?") Annoyance is clear as day in Pikachus' face. Trouble is, Chikorita doesn't seem to notice.

("What are you? A gun? A bomb? Something made just for fighting?") She shakes her head. ("There's more to life than that. You've got problems, pal.")

("Don't think you can tell me anything! What right do you have to say these things? Just because I want to compete it doesn't mean I'm obsessed!") But, I can't help thinking Chikorita is striking too close to home.

("Not obsessed? Then what was it that gave me these?") She growls, nodding to the grubby bandages still adorning parts of her body. ("A bit of a tiff? Nope. You've got it bad. So bad that right now you want to dive on me and beat the hell out for saying so. Heh.") Pikachu is almost vibrating with fury, cheeks sparkling. But even so, I think Chikorita is right. Pikachu is a world-renowned warrior, has been for longer than Chikorita and I. But she's always been fighting, in a way. Perhaps she knows no other way to work things out. And maybe, as I watch her splutter and fume, indignant but unable to find a defense, this is something she might just be starting to realize.

Then Chikorita decided to spoil everything.

("You look like you're a bit too hot under the collar. I think you need to cool off…..") A vine whips out fast as wildfire and snags a leg, sending Pikachu backwards into the pool.

Which, apart from being idiotic, was a reallyreally stupidthing to do to Pikachu when she's in this state.

("Glub-You-cough-goddamn-gaargh-bastard!") Chikoritas' chuckling isn't helping an already incandescent girl who is now angrily floating in the shallows.

("Hah, well, you should consider other people now and then.") That tips Pikachu over the edge.

("You bitch! I'm gonna give you a thrashing!") She begins to draw in power, and I take an unconscious step back. Pikachu, for all Chikoritas' posturing, is more than capable of wiping both of us out with interest...

"Pikachu! No!" Ash screams across the pool, with an edge of horror to his voice. Pikachu blows out her cheeks in annoyance and Chikorita grins at the rescue.

("Give it a rest, Ash! She deserved what she was going to get.") Pikachu calls back, unrepentant. Ash plunges into a fast stroke, almost skimming across the water towards us. Eventually he pulls up at the pool edge, looking no happier than he sounded.

"I know she did." The grin worn like a trophy on Chikoritas' face falls. "But it doesn't excuse what you were going to do!"

("Eh!") Pikachu looks nonplussed. But I can see what Ash is on about.

"For god's sake, there were four other people in this pool! Don't you realise what could've happened to the girls if you let ten thousand volts of electricity loose in the water!" Pikachu looks horrified.

("That's damn right!") Chikorita should probably shut up.

"And you can give it a rest." My adopted brother shakes his head. "I heard what you said, and you know what, normally I wouldn't be bothered. But then you go and do what you just did, out of sheer spite. I'm ashamed of you. So ashamed that I don't want to hear any arguments."

And he doesn't pay Pikachu or Chikorita any further attention, even as he climbs red-faced from the pool. And then he dives straight back in, going almost the length of the pool beneath the surface before surfacing with a splash and a loud gasp.

"What was all that about?" I hear Daisy ask, looking bizarre with a drenched mop of dark orange hair still bound around her curlers.

"Nothing that hasn't happened before. Again and again..." For a second Ash looks totally desolate, before the three sisters bring him back into their circle and the discussion re-starts, although now Lily and Violet have wrapped their arms around him as their group draws in tighter.

("Damn, god-damn, so stupid...") Pikachu mutters a string of recriminatory curses as she hauls herself from the pool, canary-colour fur now darkened by the water. Chikorita doesn't say a word. But my own frustration, boosted by Ash's distraught expression, finally outweighs my considerable patience and tips the balance.

("Okay, you two, come here.") Both of them look at me, surprised. I'm not in the mood. ("I said, come here.") This time my tone offers no options. Like schoolchildren called to the front of the class for misbehaving, they shuffle over, heads bowed and eyes downcast. ("Right. No more. That's all I have to say.")

("No more what?") I grind my teeth.

("No more of this bloody arguing!") Pikachu shrugs.

("Don't tell me, it's your fault.") Chikorita swings around.

("Hey, you started - ")

("SHUT UP!") The flame on my back blazes into life in emphasis, stopping them stone dead. ("That is enough! Can't you hear yourselves? This is driving me crazy! And as for Ash, well, be glad he hasn't resorted to banning you from his presence altogether! At this rate, he's going to snap soon. And you know what he'll feel forced to do?") Pikachu suddenly looks like she's swallowed a golf ball, and Chikorita looks horrified. ("Yes. He's bound to all of us, as we are to him.") The normal trainer and pokemon bind does not affect us. We are tied to each other through friendship and love, which are far more potent. ("He'll offer you both your 'freedom', which would sever all ties.") Now, agreeing to that would be like saying 'goodbye'. As Pikachu and Chikorita are loath to spend any time even out of sight of him, this is out. (" There is no way he will do that, and no way any of us would accept. So, barring that, he would either snap and break down, or, if you drove him to it, he would consider using pokeballs.") A gasp from the yellow one, and nothing short of a shriek from the other. ("He would hate to do it it, really hate it. But he would, like shutting a soundproof door to save his sanity. Since he can't escape from you two, and he feels responsible, it's the only way he could think of to create a few moments of respite. Do you want that? Do you?")

("No, that wouldn't happen, it couldn't...") Chikorita gasps, looking tearful.

("Are you so sure? You're pushing things. He'll ask you to give it a rest and you won't. He'll ask you to leave him alone and you won't. It's like you're two kids squabbling and he's your mother, always in the middle and asked to take sides.") My snarling and disdainful tone takes an extra edge. ("So he'll end up with a choice. Incarcerate both of you, like sending you to your bedrooms in disgrace, or go mad. But we know that going into a pokeball isn't like being sent to your bedroom, do we, Chikorita?")

("NO! I WON'T go back in there! Not without a fight.") She quails, backing away with her head shaking. The situation beckons my mind back irresistibly to three years ago, to that warm summer evening in Pallet town...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been warm. And Pikachu and Chikorita had been fighting cat and dog for weeks. There was no question as to what over, despite the fact neither contestant said so, indeed to the point where both contestants were careful to avoid any reference to the person in question and would quite vehemently deny everything if questioned. I remember that when I first met the two of them there was almost an unspoken truce, after an upsetting incident which I only heard about after the fact. But it seemed time had rotted the olive branch, and now it was pretty much all-out war. Everything all came to a head at around nine at night on a Friday, when the light was just beginning to dim and the sun set, as if it knew what was to come and did not want to view it. Ash was tired, tired beyond belief with the fighting, and no one else seemed disposed to notice. Deliah, well, she was recovering from illness, I can't remember what now. She still held herself with her usual great poise and calm temperament, but all the same she was severely drained and didn't know exactly what was going on between the two. Brock had quite sensibly chosen to stay well out of things, citing his exasperation about having to deal with his own family disputes as a reason. Misty, well, Misty was quite happy spending time with Deliah and telling Ash to sort things out. I tried my best, but at the time I was almost the stranger of the group, so my chances were limited.

I can't remember what this disagreement in particular was about. I doubt the two protagonists do. All they knew was that they disagreed. That was all that mattered.

I do remember five of us sat in the other room, trying in vain to watch a soap opera above the increasingly loud argument taking place. The volume went up on the TV, and so did that of the argument seeping through the wall. It got to a point where the windows were almost rattling, and Deilahs'' friend and helper, Mr. Mime, had left the house with a headache.

Misty was the first to complain.

"Ash! Could you go and cool those two off? I want to hear if Fred proposes to Daphne, or if he's going to leave her for Thelma!" At this Ash fidgets and tries to avoid the request, he knows that his presence would only add a gallon of fuel to an already burning fire. However, his mother spoke up next. And one thing Ash can't resist is her.

"Dear, if you would be so kind, I am trying to listens." At this, Ash raises himself from his chair without a word, and I get up to follow him. I sense he might need help.

"I reckon he's going to marry her."

"Nah, there's no chemistry there. I think he'll run to the hills. And into Thelma's arms..." I close the door, no longer interested in Misty and Deliah placing bets on who will sleep with who. I'm following Ash's heels, listening to the row going on behind closed doors.

("No way! I was the one who got us out of that scrape, how could we have fixed the wheel without my skills?")

("Rubbish! How were you going to get the car started? I powered that damn thing all the way to the next village, despite a bad head-cold!")

("Yeah, well, that night you were like a dying bloody swan!")

("You try running a car with the flu!") I roll my eyes skywards. Another round of one-upmanship. At least boxing stops after twelve of them. If they keep this up all summer I think that they might set the world record for the longest continuous argument, if they haven't already.

"Ladies! Please!" Ash shoves the door open and glares at the two protagonists, who instantly shut up. For a second.

("She started it!") Pikachu re-opens hostilities.

("No, she did! She called me a liar!") Chikorita reciprocates. Here we go again.

("It's because you are blatantly lying!")

("How dare you, you, you – ")

("Go on, say it. You were more than happy to call me one when Ash wasn't here.")

("Argh! I've had enough, you bi-")

"ENOUGH!" My big brother of sorts throws his arms up in frustration, then himself into a chair. "I can't stand another minute of this!" For the second time in a minute, silence. Then, predictably…..

("See what you've done!") I almost gape at Chikorita. I've heard of being one-eyed, but she must have both of hers tightly closed.

"NO! I won't let this go on any longer!" Ash gets up and strides across the room, brushing past the feuding pair. "It's gone far enough. It has to stop." He pauses in front of the dormant fireplace, seemingly deep in thought. I can sense all the eyes in the room are firmly trained on him, anger temporarily forgotten. This snapshot holds for more than a few minutes, silence enough for me to hear the closing theme to whatever mushy soap opera we had been watching seeping through the wall, along with a couple of muffled sobs. Looks like whoever was right about the outcome, both Misty and Deliah found it moving television.

"Okay." I come back to the here and now to see Ash slowly turn around to face the guilty parties. And I can see in his eyes that the verdict he has arrived at he has not arrived at lightly. I'm sensing trouble. "As I said, this can't go on. You fight like cat and dog from dawn 'til dusk. So, I've got to do something."

("Wha-?")

"No, you're going to be quiet and let me speak for once." He sighs, bringing his hands up to his face. "I've tried everything. But nothing works. I tell you to go out separately for a walk to cool off. And I find you scrapping on the back patio half and hour later. I suggest we sit down and talk things through. Five minutes and you're standing nose to nose. I send one of you to my room, the other to Mistys'. Not thirty seconds after that, you're at it again, through the WALLS dammit!" Another deep sigh, and he draws his hands down a little, so he can see over his fingers. "I've tried almost everything. If circumstances were different, I'd put myself on a flight to Johto, or maybe on a boat to the Orange Islands, and leave you to it. But I can't. I know, you know, we're bound to each other, we made a promise to stay together as partners for long as life lives in us. And I won't go away and dishonour the promise. But I can't take any more of this, this squabbling!"

("Sorry…..") The two of them murmur in stereo, but our friend shakes his black-haired head slowly.

"You may mean it now. But in ten minutes, who knows?" He chuckles sadly. "You know the funniest thing? I'm really the one at fault here." The others pipe up, again in stereo, this time trying to dissuade him. "No, I am. Because, even though you never say it, I'm the one you're fighting over." This time the silence is touched with shock. I can see the same thought shining clear in the faces of Pikachu and Chikorita both.

He Knows.

All the posturing, all the stupid fights were due to just one thing. Jealousy. Dressed up as petty disputes about silly things, each one was a covert round of arm-wrestling over the prize. And the prize has just told them what they never suspected.

"Maybe I should have buried the hatchet before now. Maybe nothing I said could have made a blind bit of difference. Perhaps, in a way, by refusing to get involved I got just what I deserved. Weeks and weeks of unending hell. But now, it's not just about me. And that is where I draw the line." Ash drops his hands and cranes down over the girls. I see them both take a step back, almost in fear. Thanks to his longish black hair, I can't see the expression on my angry friend's face, but I can imagine it.

"Misty. Cyndaquil. Brock." He pauses a second, and continues with yet more malice. "Mum. You've made all of them suffer too, and for what? I'm not a prize, and I'm not going to love one of you more than the other, because I couldn't love either of you more. Which makes it all the sadder for me to do what I feel I have to."

("We're sorry, we really are!") Pikachu pleads as Ash turns his back and heads over to Deliah's pride and joy, her huge antique bureau. It's something that has been in the family for a long time, as she is so fond of telling anyone who is listening, or even anyone who stands still long enough. At nine feet tall, twelve wide and built out of solid oak it dominates an entire side of the room. Deliah keeps filling it up with random things, but I can only think of one thing that Ash keeps in it... and It's at this moment my mouth goes dry.

"You know, I do believe you. But I can't trust you to stay sorry. Soon as I leave the room, someone will light the blue touch paper yet again." He pauses, hand in the open draw but not moving. "Now, I want us to sort all this out, and soon. But not tonight." He pulls his hand out of the drawer and slides it shut. "Partly because I'm too angry. And so are you. But, mostly because mum is in no state tonight to take any more nonsense. Christ, they pumped her full of drugs again this morning, and she's barely moved off her chair since she came home. She's having a hard enough time now without having to hear this, hour after hour, all night. So, I'm going to do the only thing that I can to make sure she gets the peace she needs in her own home." With that he opens both his hands and the two simultaneously gasp as they see what they contain.

Two Pokeballs. One marked with a leaf, one with a lightning bolt.

("No, no!") Chikorita shrieks, backing away and shaking her head madly. ("Put her in, not me!")

("Hey, I was around first!") Pikachu bristles, furious. ("Put her in!")

("No, anything but that! Put me on a plane to Johto, anything!") The pale green one is frantic, screeching like a banshee. ("Don't make me go in there, I won't, you can't!")

("Hey, it's only going to be for one night! Cool off will you!") Pikachu looks puzzled as I am at her reaction.

("How do you know! How do you know you'll ever come out of there again?") Chikorita howls, still retreating until she hits the sofa. With a yelp of surprise she spins around, and, to my shock, lashes out viciously with a vine, tearing a huge hole in two of the cushions.

("Watch it!") Pikachu shouts, before diving out of the way as a few battle leaves come flying her way. It's as I see them cut clean through a chair and embed themselves in a wall that I realise Chikorita is deadly serious. And anyone who gets in the way is in serious trouble.

"Chikorita, listen to me!" Ash calls, but then has to duck as a vine comes flying his way.

("No! Won't go back into the dark! Never! Not in the dark!") My friend screams, totally lost in whatever fear she's trapped by.

"Hey Ash, what's all the noise about?" Misty pokes her nose around the door.

("Not a good time! Get help!") I yell, and Misty complies, no doubt hastened by the vines that crash into the door behind her, dislodging it from its hinges.

"Chikorita, no! Stop! When have I ever lied to you!" Ash cries, and for a moment Chikorita seems to respond. Until she sets her red eyes on the object still clasped tight in his hand and the haze of madness re-enters them.

("I won't be trapped again! Never!") With that, she flings out a vine whip faster than I can blink. It clips Ash on the chin, spinning him to the ground. But it was sent out with such ferocious speed that she loses control, and it smashes into the bureau behind him, tipping it backwards with a fearful creak.

"What the hell?" Brock bursts into the room in time to see the bureau bounce off the wall it stands against, and then, with chilling inevitability, rock forwards and past it's point of balance. My breath caught in my throat as I saw who is kneeling, stunned, beneath it's shadow.

"Ash! Look out!" Misty screams from the entrance as Brock and I both make desperate but painfully futile bids to get across the room in time. I hear Pikachu call out something as she joins us in our charge, but the ominous creaking drowns it out as the huge piece of furniture falls forward all too quickly. Ash seems to realise what is happening and makes a dive to get out from beneath it.

Too late.

An almighty crash, accompanied by the horrific sound of a thousand valuables smashing, seems to shake the very building to its foundations. Great clouds of dust hover in the air. In the aftermath, like the momentary vacuum that follows a bomb blast, everyone looks at one another, suspended in that second.

Then, time returns to the room.

"Everyone! Help me get this off him!") Misty charges over to the fallen bureau, calling for help. Brock and I are alongside her in a flash, and she's already trying to lift it alone. I sense Pikachu move alongside me, wishing to give whatever help she can. But a second of trying to raise the huge piece of furniture tells us we need another pair of hands.

("Chikorita, get over here!") I shout, seeing her stood stock still in the centre of the room, eyes wild and wet.

("Come on, I don't care you did this right now, we need your help!") Pikachu adds, which seems to shake Chikorita out of her daze. She loops her guilty vines around the bureau, and with a huge collective grunt of effort, we manage to force it into it's old standing position, revealing Ash laying underneath it.

"Ash? Speak to me, please!" Misty moans, eyes already growing tearful.

"Can you hear me?" Brock reaches a hand around the fallen boy's wrist. "Well, he's breathing and his pulse is fine, if a bit quick." He lifts an eyelid and frowns. "Looks like he's unconscious, can't rule out skull fractures. But he doesn't seem to have any that are obvious. Either way, I'm calling an ambulance." He gets up and hurries to the door, telling us not to move him while he's away.

("Ash? You okay?") Pikachu shuffles over, looking morose as I've ever seen her. ("If I knew it might come to this...if only I knew. Stupid, so stupid.") To my surprise she doesn't say another word, instead she snuggles up against him and begins whispering words unheard in his ear as the fur around her face gets slowly more and more damp. I feel the shock begin to work it's way into me, but I shut it off. There'll be time for that later. What is needed now are calm heads, like Brocks'.

"You crazy bitch!" Misty rounds on the stationary Chikorita, scarlet with fury. "What were you doing? What the hell were you doing! I know you think you own him and you resent Pikachu for loving him too, but killing him to make sure she can't have him is a bit fucking extreme don't you think!" At this the dazed red eyes seem to clear fully at last, and with an explosive sob she charges out of the room, and up the stairs.

"Yeah, you think I'm done with you? Just you wait missie!" The red-haired girl lets go of Ash's hand and moves as if to follow, but I block her path.

("Okay Misty. You've said your piece. Now let her be, she's realised what she just did. Going after her won't help any.") A moment of pause, and to my relief, Misty sinks back down, grasping Ash's hand again.

"Oh my, what on earth has happened here?" Deliah's aghast tone catches me by surprise, and I turn to see her leaning on her cane in the doorway, taking in the carnage with shocked eyes and her palm covering her gaping mouth.

"Uh, Deliah..."

"My chairs! It'll take more than patchwork to fix this, oh, and the door is broken, I only got that fixed last month, and the bay windows, cracked beyond repair, how am I going to fix that? That was made by my father..." I cringe as the lady slowly takes in the damage to her treasured possessions, knowing the course of her gaze would soon reach us. "And all these smashed dishes, they were a gift from Samuel back when I got married, oh no, not the photo, and the glasses, all destroyed!" She dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief, leaning all the more heavily on her walking stick. "Everything, everything is broken -Oh, Ash! Ash, are you alright? What's happened? Why is my son lying on the floor? Why won't he answer me?" I try to answer, but I feel like someone has their hands tight around my throat. Misty tries as well, but only succeeds in bursting into a fresh bout of tears, which doesn't help Deliah at all. "What's wrong? Is he hurt? Can't he hear me? Please Ash, say something! Please!" her frantic pleas tip me over the edge as well, and I drop my eyes to hide the tell-tale silver tracks.

"Ash has been in an accident. He's unconscious, but he's breathing fine and he should be alright." Brock re-enters the room just in time, and places a hand on Deliah's shoulder. "I've called the ambulance, they'll be here inside ten minutes." Ash's mother takes a few deep breaths, dabs at her eyes and seems to regain her composure, her usual poise and collected manner clicking back into place as if it had never left.

"Thank you, Brock. But tell me -" She gestures to the remains of her parlour " - what on earth happened?"

"There was an accident, and the bureau kinda, uh, fell over on top of him."

"An accident you say?" She takes in the havoc again, before fixing the three of us grouped around Ash with a beady-eyed stare. "Well, I've always told him since he was a little boy not to go climbing on the furniture. Looks like he never listened." She gives us another look, one which tells us that this is not all over. "Now, Misty, I'm going to pack an overnight bag, can I trust him in your care?" The tearful gym leader just nods, holding the prone boy's hand all the tighter.

("I won't let anything happen to him.") Pikachu re-affirms, sniffling from her position alongside Ash's head. Deliah walks out of the room, and I hear the stick tapping it's way up the stairs as she goes to gather her things together. She's not fooling me, I know she's worried sick. But that's Deliah, she tries to stay collected in the most trying circumstances, and then gives in to emotion when she feels she can.

Like Mother like Son.

When the ambulance arrived, Chikorita was nowhere to be found. Deliah eventually convinced Misty to stay behind, on the proviso the water lover could take over from her in the morning when she came home to change. So, as Deliah got into the back of the ambulance with Ash on a stretcher, she turned around to us with a twinkle in her eye.

"Brock, I expect you to do my job while I'm away. And remember, not too much water on the Azelias in the morning, they only need a drop right now."

"Yes ma'am." Brock makes no protest at being told to stay at home. He knows well as I do that Deliah needs to be alone with Ash tonight, so she can deal with her grief properly. I know she won't with any company, no-one but Ash is allowed to see Deliah's vulnerable side.

"And Pikachu, you can come in with her. But leave him with me tonight, please?" Pikachu sadly agrees. Finally, she addresses me. "Cyndaquil, you too." I nod in response, respecting her desire for privacy. "Now all of you behave yourselves, and don't worry too much, they think Ash will be okay, given time. Now, bye for now, and don't go to bed too late!" Her eyes slip skywards briefly, before she smiles at all of us and pulls the door shut. We watch the ambulance disappearing in a cloud of dust, and soon as it leaves sight Misty cracks again and is pulled into a hug by Brock.

"Brock, eight tomorrow morning, I'm out of here, I'll catch a taxi, cycle, jog, I don't care, I'm going..." The ginger gym leader babbles through her tears as she's lead inside by Brock, followed by a silent and doleful Pikachu. Just as I reach the house I look up and catch a glance of something green in the bedroom window before the curtains twitch and fall closed.

Looks like someone else was saying goodbye too.

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("Not without a fight! Christ, don't you remember last time? You want a repeat of three years ago?") The way she bows her head tells me Chikorita doesn't.

("Yeah, that was pretty bad wasn't it.") She mutters, peering at her reflection in the polished sapphire tiles on the pool room floor.

("And we know exactly who made it so bad...") I storm up to Pikachu, cutting her off before she can get going again. Obviously, her anger hasn't been crushed like her adversary's by the thought of Pallet three years past.

("My first wish is that you shut up! Right now!") She accedes, mostly out of shock. ("Look at this, look at us! Do you want a repeat of all that? Months of hell, followed by someone getting carried to hospital? We've got enough trouble with Hazel and Misty, the last thing I need is for you two to open up old wounds yet again.") I growl in frustration. ("Pikachu, you need to calm down. Chikorita, you need to grow up. And I, I need to cool off.") With that I turn my back on them and march over to the pool, where the humans in the room are now paddling around lazily. Without needing a prompt, Daisy glides over and I hop onto her belly, and we cruise out into the middle of the pool, where the others float. I can see by the array of red faces that they haven't exactly been enjoying light conversation either, but I'm too tired to care.

"You 'kay Quilly-baby?" I'm too tired to even care that I've been called something so bloody stupid by Lily. All I do to reply is yawn and get even more comfortable.

"Go ahead an' sleep Cyndaquil. Your Ashy-boy ain't goin' anywhere for a while." I raise a sleepy eyebrow at him.

"Well, do you want to go back into that atmosphere? Misty would smell the chlorine on me in a second and then I'd be in deep trouble. She'll be off to the exam soon, she doesn't want me around before it, she made that perfectly clear last night while you were asleep. We'll head back when she's gone. I'm just hoping Hazel won't do anything stupid..."

My last thought before I drift off to sleep is that maybe, just maybe, from this moment things might start to happen.

I'm going to find out just how right I can be.

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I pack my bag silently, making sure I put three pens in just to be safe. I won't know what to write with them, but at least I'll fail on my terms rather than through a lack of ink.

"Going then?" Hazel comments tonelessly, laying fully dressed and staring at the ceiling from her bed by the window.

"Yeah." I watch her for a minute, until my traitorous stomach gurgles. Hazel turns her head to look at me.

"D'you want something to eat first? Ya don't wanta go into an exam hungry y'know. I don't want ya to fail 'cause you've gotten faint half way through." I'm shocked by the honesty in Hazel's voice.

"No, no, I'm fine, honestly." I pat my outsized stomach and force a grin. Hazel returns it with a stony expression.

"No, no yer not. But bugging won't help any." She returns her gaze to the ceiling.

"Why the concern all of a sudden?" I put my hands to my hips, internally grimacing at the flesh still coating them. "It's not as if we're friends or anything. Hell, it's not as if we're companions, or even adversaries. We can barely speak to each other. I think you like me even less than I like you. So what's the deal?" Hazel sighs deeply, and rolls onto her right so she can look straight at me.

"Believe it or not Misty, I don't hate you. No, it's true." I think my incredulous look must have annoyed her. "I used to, back then when I blamed you for my shit life. But I know, Ash told me, that it wasn't your fault, it was nothing to do with you." She sighs again. "Now that was a bitch to accept. But I thought back, and you must have been what, Seven? How can it be up to you? Seems like I was getting' at you to spite yer ma, or whoever it was in charge back then." It was both my parents at the time, but I don't want to think about that right now.

"Anyways," she continues, "I got my head 'round the fact that you weren't responsible. Though I gotta say it didn't make me like you much more. But then, we get close to here, and I see ya doing this bizarre stuff, not eating, not sleeping. And I thought, ain't she just doing what I'm not strong enough to? Don't I want ta prove I'm in control?" A third sigh, and she rolls back so she's staring at the ceiling again. "At that point, I gave up hatin' you for your family's sake. I know I've been difficult, I know I've been a bitch at times. But I can't do what you've done. I couldn't handle it. So I've raised hell, that's what I'm good at. Time to time maybe I went too far, like that night by the burnt bridge. When ya called me a slattern. That brought back too many memories. But I gotta use this energy, else it'll burn me alive. You understand?" My mind is spinning like a Catherine wheel, and I drop my bag, exam temporarily forgotten.

"Well, uh..." She seems to stiffen on the bed, and I can guess what she's going to say next.

"I guess what I really want to say is, is...I'm sorry, alright? I've gone too far. I'm not strong enough to be you. Fuck me, wish I could have, instead I grabbing onto Ash, fought you, and raised hell." She chuckles ruefully. "Nah, I'm not sayin' I'm Mrs. Easy-to-live-with, I steal and lie for a living, and I've got a mouth that would make a pimp blush. But all the same..."

"Why are you saying this, Hazel?" This, on top of everything else, nearly pushes my over-wrought mind to tears. I sit down heavily on Ash's bed, on the dark-haired girl's side. "Why now?"

"No reason." She mutters, rich brown eyes flitting to look out the window. "Just wanted to clear the air, make sure we all know where we stand, y'know." No, I don't. Why would she choose now, just before I go to my exam to do this? Unless... Oh, no...

"You're going too, aren't you?" She stiffens, looking out of the window with yet more intensity. "You're going now, alone, to your home, aren't you?" A full half-minute of silence, and then -

"Yeah." That simple reply.

"Why don't you wait for Ash? You know he promised you, promised to protect you." Hazel shrugs, still avoiding me.

"I know he did. But this is my fight. Not his. I gotta do this myself." She must sense me starting to argue, as she cuts me off. "The exam is your fight, this is mine. Just think, I turn up with a bodyguard, how could I look him in the eye? 'Hi dad, wanted to come back and tell you you're an asshole, and here's my help in case you don't like it?' No, gotta do this myself." I feel a deep respect for the girl lying before me blossoming in my chest.

"You can say all you like about not being strong enough, but you're braver than me." I take a seat on the same bed as her. "I've avoided the Gym for years. Even now, I can't face going back." I brush a stray lock of ginger hair behind my head, smiling truly for the first time in weeks. "I wish I could do what you are. But I can't. All I can do is sit this exam, and pray for a miracle." I get up, drawing my bag onto my shoulder. "And time is calling me onward. So, I've got to say goodbye."

"Good luck Misty. Hope you do the business." Hazel says with total honesty, offering a small hand. I reach out and grip it, before drawing her into a tight hug.

"Don't you go doing anything stupid." After a second of surprise, she returns it.

"And don't you mess up. Ash would be devastated." My heart seems to freeze within me at the mention of the name. But all the same I pick up my bag and, taking a deep breath, head for the door.

"I guess I'll see you later." I say, reaching for the door handle.

"Hopefully." I shut the door firmly behind me, with a silent prayer.

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There is too much to take in. Too many thoughts. I shake my head, trying to dispel the shock that has taken hold of me, while taking the stairs down to the reception lobby. I cast a final look around, and the resolutely march out of the Pokemon Center. The time is up. Now I have to face my future.

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I wait for Misty to leave, before sliding off my bed onto my feet. I can't ignore my fate any more than Misty can hers. I don't have a deadline, but I can't hold off any more. I give Misty a two minute head start, and then wrench the door open. I almost let it go of it again, but something pushes me through. As it shuts behind me, the fact that I have no key makes it all the more real. I'm going to do it. I smooth down the skirt Ash bought me, and take my first faltering steps on the way to my fate.

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I take several deep breaths as I set out through the city I used to call my own. Memories that I had buried spring to the surface, reminding me of the times I spent here as a child. Memories so evocative that I could not recall them, but precious none the less. This place, this life was a part of me from the time I was born...

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I let my feet steer me, trusting them to navigate the streets I have known since birth. It all seems so surreal. I'm like a stranger in my own home. Here a shop that I once bought a bar of chocolate from so my mother wouldn't know, there the ballet school that tormented me for many long evenings. But it all seems so far away .Like another world. So much has happened between then and now, so much. Most of it good, yes. Brock, Jessie and James, Tracey, the pokemon, the adventures, the magic. All my team-mates. Goldeen, Horsea, Lapras, even Psyduck. Togepi, I wonder where my baby is now…..

All those who we met, befriended and said goodbye to. I wonder if they still remember me?

Probably not.

The other Pokemon, way back when I first started my travels. Squirtle, Charizard and Bulbasaur. Now, Chikorita, Cyndaquil, Totodile.

And Ash.

Ash…..

…..Without him, I would have none of these memories. When I ran from my prison, many years ago, all I could think of was getting away, breaking free. I had no idea what being free would really mean. I wonder, I do wonder, if that dark-haired boy hadn't dropped into my life right when he did, would I still be sat on that bank, fishing. Watching the river, and wondering where it flows. But, although it was hardly a dream beginning, I chose to go with him. And I am so glad I did.

I owe Ash my life, because without one, I never would have really lived. But he holds much more than just my life in his hands. He holds my heart too. I love him, I know. But recently, life has stopped being one long fairy-tale and started getting in the way. Hazel, she was one part. I understand her more now, and I think I can forgive her for what she has said and done. But she's made it hard, so hard to talk with Ash, to be alone with him. And the way he accepted her, invited her in, and got her to open up to him. It got me thinking……

Do I really deserve him?

And the worst part is that I don't know the answer. Yes, I am going to do this exam for my future. I'm going to do it to show my father I'm strong. But most of all, I'm doing it to prove myself, both to myself and to him.

Because without him I've got nothing.

Yet the coin always lands with one side down. If I pass, I prove my worth. To him, and to the world. But then…..he would leave, and I might have to stay. I can't make him stay, his life is about exploring, finding new horizons.

If I were to fail…..I could go on, and travel with him once again, but with the knowledge that I am a failure. That I've let everyone down, let myself down. Let him down. I don't know if I can live with that.

I've managed to lose most of my excess weight, although there's still some way to go before I can be the little skinny girl I was when I first met him. But that alone isn't enough. I have to prove myself both in body and mind.

So I must pass. I must.

For him.

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I let my feet steer me, trusting them to navigate the streets I've known since birth. They step carelessly over the hopscotch pattern, scuffing the chalk. I feel like I'm walking in slow-motion, with each step the realization of what I've gotta do getting clearer. I don't want to get to my destination. But my feet have taken over control, and they're taking me there against my will.

Why am I doing this? Why am I going back there?

I could probably turn around right now, go back to the room, grab Ash and never let go. Never have to come here again. I could go with him, travel and see the world, who knows, maybe even use pokemon like he does. I think for a moment about the Charmander still sitting inside the pokeball which lies redundant in my pocket, and the responsibility I would carry. I don't know if I have what it takes. But all the same, I could find a million excuses not to come near here ever again.

But I won't. That's not Hazel.

If there's one thing I've learnt in my time with the gang, it's that you can't give up, you have to trust yourself to do what you have to. I want to hold my head up high, and say I did what I had to do. I'm going to show my new friends, show Ash, that I'm brave, that I won't back down from my problems.

I don't feel very brave right now. My hands are shaking, my heart pounding, and I'm fighting the urge to wet myself right here and now. As I face the door at the front of my block of flats. The door that leads to hell.

It all comes thundering back. The shouting. The alcohol. The fist thudding into my cheek, the pain and humiliation. The abuse, never-ending. All waiting in there. The door reminds me of the cap on a shaken bottle of cider. Looks innocent, but so much pressure built up within, ready to explode as soon as it opens.

Explode, and cover me with it's poison.

I feel ready to faint. But I won't. I won't let myself.

I vaguely note that I've lost the fight with my bladder, but it doesn't seem to matter jack shit. The real battle is waiting for me in there.

I can go if I want to, turn around right now. I can.

But I won't. I won't let myself.

It's time to face the devil. I reach out, grasp the door handle, and press it down. I step inside, taking a deep breath. Too late to go back now. Onwards, and upwards.

I hope you'll be proud of me, Ash.

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I come to the gates, and stare at my old school. It seems so much smaller than I remember. I never liked coming here. It took me away from what I loved. The water, the pokemon, the gym itself. Even, at that point, my family. So I never really paid attention. I could never understand why, when I was caught staring out the window and not listening, the teacher would send me out into the hall where there were more windows to look out of and I couldn't even hear what she was saying, let alone listen.

No, no time for being sentimental.

I pace slowly towards the steps at the front of the building, noting that I'm far from alone. There's dozens, no, even hundreds here. Never expected so many. But it's nice to see that the school clock set above the main entrance still wears the same time it always did when I was here.

Suddenly it re-hits me, the reason I'm here. And I have to hold the handrail at the foot of the stairs tight to stay on my feet, trying like hell to keep from retching. Too late to change my mind now.

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I take it one step at a time, counting them. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven...the tiniest of pauses...twelve. Then a few steps forward, one, two, three, four, five, six...seven.

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I stare at the grey plywood door, struggling to breathe. I know that if I hadn't already, I'd wet myself right now. I'm so scared. So, so scared that I haven't got words. It's not about words any more, it's physical, my whole body is shaking, hands reaching up to touch long-healed bruises which still hurt me within. But I can't go back, I have no choice in the matter now. I take a long breath, and try to square my shaking shoulders.

This is it.

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I stare at thedoor to the main hall, as if challenging it. Challenging it to be locked, and make the decision for me. But I know I'll have no luck. I fight for breath, feeling like the world is suddenly sitting on my shoulders. This is it. Is it. Now. And I'm going to fail. I'm going to lose any sparse respect I own. And I'm going to float on through life like a broken branch on the river. But I'm here, and I must at least try. It may be futile, but I must try. I take a steadying breath, and cross my fingers tightly.

This is it.

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I reach out with trembling hands, and grasp the door handle, momentarily running my fingers over it's smooth surface. My future awaits. And I can't keep it waiting any longer.

Slowly, so slowly, I push the handle down, hearing the catch click open. One final long, clear breath. Tasting it as if for the last time.

Saying a silent prayer, I close my eyes and push open the door, ready to meet my destiny...

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Well, I had to end on a cliffie

This time, with a little luck, it'll be a month rather than a year until the next chapter!

Thanks for reading,

Dan.