Dawn couldn't believe her luck.
She didn't believe her luck would pay off that quickly.
She blazed past the preliminary battles, defeating Kenny's Primplup with her Pachirisu, allowing her to advance to the quarter finals. The quarter final came down to the final moments; the trainers' graceful Starmie having a type advantage over her Cyndaquil, but somehow, she pulled through in that last moment.
The moment was a blur to her, her Cyndaquil delivering the final blow before the timer rung off, stopping the match. Dawn had won by a fraction.
The crowd cheered at her small victory – no doubt they had written her off.
She remembered picking up her Cyndaquil as it raced towards her, hugging it to her chest as she praised its hard work.
Jim had met her backstage, grinning ear to ear.
He had congratulated her, but reminded her that the hardest part was still ahead of her – she had to keep focused. She knew he was right, although his words came out as a bit of a mood killer.
"I know," she had grinned, winking over her shoulder at him. "No need to worry."
Those words made her want to kick herself as she stepped up onto the field, finding herself standing across the field from Conway. Inwardly, she wanted to roll her eyes, there was something about the green-haired teen that annoyed her. Outwardly, she put forth her best winning smile, calling out her Buneary with a flourish.
After that, everything seemed to blur together. Conway called out attacks at a startling speed the second the timer began, causing Dawn to fumble and loose points immediately.
But, somehow, she had managed to pull through, finding herself standing on the final stage. She took a deep breath as she clutched Piplup's pokeball in her hand, casting a quick glance over at Jim before starting up the stairs to the raised platform.
She could feel everyone's eyes on her, her opponent not yet on stage. Dawn glanced around the stadium, the sun shining down on them. Nodding to herself, she noticed the commentators to her right; Nurse Joy, Mr. Contesta, and Wallace himself.
Dawn grinned like a schoolgirl, glancing away.
How long had she said she wanted to meet the Wallace? And there he was, fifteen to twenty feet away from her.
"Dawn, focus!"
Dawn shook her head as she heard Jim's voice, breaking through her thoughts. Blinking, she glanced before her, her opponent having arrived. She quickly took in his appearance – messy dark hair, an intricate design on his clothing – sizing him up.
She knew she could win it.
"Magby – go!"
Dawn tried to hide her grin, as she threw her pokeball up silently as her opponent threw his, shouting its name out. Piplup's pokeball broke open in an outpouring of stars, momentarily making its silhouette invisible. "Hydro Pump!"
She wanted to finish the battle in under five minutes – she was going to start out strong.
"Dodge it," came her opponent's yell, the fire Pokemon dodging to avoid Piplup.
Dawn frowned, Piplup missing, sailing past its target.
"Now, fire punch!"
Dawn cringed, biting back a curse as the Magby turned on its heel, landing a solid hit on Piplup at that distance. Her mind whirled as she watched Piplup stumble after the hit with a cry of its name.
"Whirlpool!" she shouted, a plan still forming in her mind.
She imagined the whirlpool spinning up and out, covering the battle field, weakening her opponent, and then it was just a matter of, "Follow it up with Hydro Pump!" All she needed were a couple good hits . . .
From the bleachers, Jim sighed, watching the battle unfold before him. Dawn was on the right track, starting out with an attack the second she called forth her Pokemon to get the upper hand against her opponent; the fact that it was a fire type was an added bonus.
But, she was getting too involved with type advantage. She wasn't paying any attention the scoreboard looming over the judges.
There was three minutes left on the timer, the numbers decreasing rapidly, as were the points.
Sure, Magby was losing points from the damage it had taken and from the appeal factor, but Dawn was losing points too. She had lost a fair amount of points from Magby's Fire Punch, and when she called both Whirlpool and Hydro Pump so close together, it was hard to see Piplup through the cascading water.
Hadn't she learned anything in the past month?
He wished she would look in his direction; they had come up with a discreet sign to remind her to reel in her performance and another if she was doing fine. All he had to do was rub his temple, if she would just . . . there!
Dawn blinked, catching sight of Jim's movement in the corner of her eye.
She shook her head, taking a moment to step back and obverse the scene before her. It was one of the first things that Jim had taught her; that sometimes taking a step back to review your actions were beneficial.
The stage was coated in puddles, the sun drying it up rather quickly. Piplup's flippers flapped as water spouted from its beak, connecting with its target.
"Piplup," she said, causing the penguin to stop and look at her. "Wing attack."
She knew this would be the deciding factor in the match. Dawn watched as Piplup raced towards Magby, its' trainer yelling an attack at it, but Magby was too busy trying to shake the water off its skin, and then . . .
"The victory goes to Dawn!" came Lillian's voice over the speakers.
Dawn immediately glanced up at the large screen; Magby's points had reached zero and there was still a minute up there on the clock.
"We . . . Piplup we did it!" Dawn exclaimed, running forward, picking up her Pokemon. "Thank you so much!" Dawn glanced towards her opponent, now kneeling beside his Magby. "It was a good match," she said, unsure what to say.
He nodded, calling Magby back into its pokeball. "It was, but the better trainer won," he shrugged, pocketing Magby's ball.
"Thanks," Dawn mumbled. No one had ever said that to her before.
Grinning widely, Dawn turned on her heel, Piplup tucked under one arm, attempted to walk back to her corner – but ended up running in excitement. "Did you see that?" Dawn grinned, jumping off the ledge and landing in front of Jim. "I won – I actually did it!"
Jim nodded, grinning as he ruffled her hair. "You did really good out there, congratulations. I think Lillian wants you back out there though," he added, looking over her head. "You better go get your trophy."
"Come on Piplup," she called, dropping the penguin in her excitement as she turned back to the stage.
Jim smiled slightly, shaking his head at the girls' excitement as she stood beside Lillian, smiling widely as Wallace walked towards her, trophy in hand. Lillian's microphone picked up Dawn stammering a thanks to Wallace, the teen no doubt speechless in front of him.
"Do you have anything you would to add, Dawn?" Lillian asked, turning towards Dawn, a trophy in her hand.
Dawn blinked, shifting the trophy in her hands as the microphone was shoved in front of her. "Um . . ." she heard her voice echo through the stadium. "I would like to thank everyone for watching the battle and I couldn't have done any of this without my traveling companion, Jim. I look forward to the next competition round." Dawn smiled awkwardly, unsure what else to say.
"There you have it," Lillian said, taking back the microphone. "As for the next competition – we look forward to seeing all of you in Celestic Town!"
Smiling at the crowd in the stands, the lights on the stage dimmed, the house lighting coming back on. "You did great dear," Lillian said, nodding to Dawn. "I look forward to seeing your next battle, keep up the good work."
Dawn mumbled a thanks, watching Lillian head back towards Wallace and the other judges back by the staff entrance. She was looking forward to Celestic Town, she might be able to win her third ribbon there . . .
"You did good," Jim said, stepping up onto the stage beside Dawn. "Your technique is definitely improving."
"I agree," Dawn said, grinning up at him. "But, I could have still lost if you hadn't," Dawn shook her head. "I need to train more, I'm still getting all caught up in the moment and what-not."
Jim laughed; his hands in his pockets. "By the time you get to the Grand Festival, you'll be completely focused. Now, go and get Nurse Joy to look over your Pokemon and then we'll figure out a plan to follow until the Celestic Contest."
"Right, see you in a little while then," Dawn chirped, turning on her heel, jumping lightly off the platform. "Only three ribbons left . . ."
###
May watched Cole wearily, watching the black-haired teen intently. For someone who had seemed so gung-ho about heading immediately to Dewford City, suddenly turn wary at the fact that Route 105 and 106 were waterways.
I mean really, hadn't Max mentioned that in passing?
"Don't be such a coward," May had said, following after Mr. Briney. "It's just a little water, what's the worst that could happen?"
"I guess you're right," Cole mumbled, Aipom climbing up onto his shoulders. "What could –"
"The boat could always sink," Max said, bypassing Cole, making the small pier rock with the extra weight. "But, that's highly unlikely, Mr. Briney and his Wingull have sailed all over Hoenn in their boat, we'll be fine."
Leaning against the railing, May raised an eyebrow at Cole's actions. When Max past by him, making the small pier from shore to boat rock, she could have sworn Cole almost jumped out of his skin. And then when Max mentioned the boat sinking, she saw a flash of horror appear on Cole's face before disappearing again, his eyes darting from the boat to the water below.
"Don't listen to Max," May interjected as Max jumped onto the boat, Cole remaining stationary. "He just acts like he's super smart – don't forget, he's eight."
May had forgotten about her concern over Cole's actions as Mr. Briney's boat slowed down as it approached Dewford Town, dropping its anchor as it stopped in the marina. "You kids just let me know when you want to leave," he had said as the three departed the boat.
Max nodded, thanking the older man. "Are you sure though, we might be a little while."
"Its fine," Mr. Briney had said, staring out at the sea. "Peeko has already taken to the sky; I couldn't leave without him now."
May stretched her hands over her head as she took in their surroundings, the temperature on the island always a few degrees warmer then that of the mainland. The Pokemon Center was in front of them, the Dewford Gym and suburbs to the left and the beach to her right.
"Aw man, I definitely can't wait to hit the beach!" May grinned, wandering towards the sandy area. "It's been ages since mom and dad brought us here . . ."
"We don't have time for the beach," Cole said without thinking. "We came here to get a Knuckle Badge," he added, Max muttering the name to him.
May paused, glaring over at her shoulder at him. "What do you mean, we? You came here for the Knuckle Badge, I'm not interested in battling Brawly –"
"May, you've been to the beach here lots of time," Max said exasperated, as he looked up from his Poke-Nav. "Can't you wait till after?"
"Nah, let her go to the beach," Cole said, grinning at May. "Go enjoy the water and whatnot. Max here can get me up-to-speed on Brawly back at the Pokemon Center. Besides I want to train and explore the Island a bit before I challenge a second leader; he's got to be stronger than Roxanne was."
"There, see, it all works out," May said, smiling at Max. "We're all getting what we want to. So, here's the money," May mumbled, unzipping the pack around her waist, looking for the wallet her parents had given her the night before she left. "Use this to get us a room at the Pokemon Center, I'll catch up with you guys in a couple hours then."
Max nodded, taking the wallet from May, the brunette talking quickly as she zipped up her pack and then turned towards the sandy beach. "Geez, that May," Max shook his head, frowning. "But, come on, let's get going."
"After we get settled, I should probably call Ericka and Anabel, its' been weeks since I called them in Littleroot Town . . ."
Kicking off her shoes on the walkway, the sand a mere step away, May paused as she heard Cole's words. He was calling home to Kanto – could she find out the answers to the questions plaguing her mind?
She glanced back at the sandy beach stretched out before her. Little kids were playing in the sand, girls her age were wandering around in their swimsuits, oblivious – or not so oblivious – to the looks they were receiving, and there were a few people in the water; she even noticed someone with a surfboard.
"Ugh, that Cole," she grumbled, flopping down onto the walkway.
May looked longingly at the sandy beach as she reached for the shoes she had just kicked off. Shoving her foot into the shoes, she shook her head, tying them back up. Even unintentionally, Cole was making it difficult for her to get to the beach . . .
###
Jessilina stared at the cell phone in her hand – she didn't think that it would really work.
She had expected the studio bosses to be unimpressed with her last minute decision.
Jessilina had fully expected them to deny her request, not accept it.
After researching the current events that were going on in Kanto, and finding out the identity of the man haunting her dreams, Jessilina's mind was fully committed to heading to the Kanto region.
As she formulated a plan in her mind, Jessilina had called up the studio boss's who produced and secured the talent for the Morning Island Talk show, informing them of her idea.
"Just hear me out," she had said over the phone, Ms. Grant not impressed with her overnight disappearance. "I've been thinking about this since last week when we had our monthly budget meeting; the fact that we've taken a dip in viewers by nine percent since last month got me thinking. Not long ago we had Lara Laramie on the show talking about the annual Poke-athalon going on at their ranch; it would be a perfect opportunity for us to branch out, allow our audience to see something new – especially since she was just a guest on the show. There has to be other things going on in Kanto that our viewers could find interesting; I read that the Indigo League will be starting up again soon."
Jessilina found herself fidgeting as the line went silent, the red-head pacing across the kitchen floor as she waited, counting the seconds.
"I see how that could be connected into our past shows, but –"
"I want to use my vacation pay for the trip," Jessilina supplied, guessing what the answer might be. "I've already gone ahead and contacted the Laramie's about the possibility of a live broadcast," Jessilina hedged, biting down on her lip. "It could bring back the ratings that we used to have . . ."
"Perhaps," came Ms. Grant's reply after a long moment. "I will have to get back to you – but, I'm assuming since you mentioned vacation pay – that you intend to go anyway?"
Jessilina cringed, smiling warily at the idea. "Yes, I would like to. Something personal came up here in Shamouti and I . . ."
"Does it have something to do with Melody's disappearance two months ago?"
"Yes," Jessilina said, deciding to go along with it. "Karol got a phone call yesterday from an Officer Jenny in Kanto. I think that she's going to need additional help in her search, Kanto is rather large."
"Hmm, well, yes, I do see your point," Ms. Grant said, papers rustling. "I can give you roughly a two-week vacation, now I just have to mention it to Danny. Hopefully I can contact someone to fill your spot at such a late notice. This is going to be rather inconvenient."
"I'm sorry," – she really wasn't sorry – "But in a case like this, my family is what matters here." She was pretty sure that Ms. Grant wouldn't know that she and Melody rarely got along.
"Yes, well, just make sure you find her," Ms. Grant sighed, a tone of finality in her voice. "Now, I have to explain this to Danny . . ."
Danny, Jessilina thought idly. How she would have died to have him ask her that question a year ago, and now . . . he was the furthest thing from her mind.
"Yes, thank you, tell Danny I'm sorry as well," she added, her words holding a double meaning. "I should be back within that timeframe."
As she hung up the phone, Jessilina knew she wasn't sure if she was even going to be coming back.
Stowing her cell phone in her pocket, Jessilina quickly turned on her heel, her mind running a mile a minute. As she past by the printer, she picked up the paper sitting there – a printout of the last known picture of James Morgan, with herself in the background.
Somehow, she got the idea that Melody might know something about all of this.
Rushing up the stairs, and throwing her door open, Jessilina quickly glanced at the clock, which read out seven p.m. Karol would be home soon, the brunette having decided earlier to head out after her shift at the market's café was complete.
Grabbing the large designer duffel bag hanging in her closet – the studio had held Designer's Week months ago, each staff member getting a bag in appreciation from one of the designers – opening it quickly before dropping it on the floor.
Jessilina glanced at the clothes in her closet; she wished she could take them all with her. Each piece was expensive, showing off her assets, each piece having a certain design element she liked. Karol used to always tease her about how many clothes she packed in her closet, and looking at it now, she realized how right Karol was.
She noted that hardly of it would come in handy for her trip.
Did she need four sequin dresses? Over ten tight dresses? All those satin shirts with sparkled fronts catching the light?
Jessilina let out a groan, running a hand through her hair. None of this was going to come in handy for her trip, she didn't want to stand out this time . . . she didn't want to recognized in Kanto.
"This is no good . . . this is too sparkly . . . that cost way to much . . . no way am I hiking across Kanto in that . . ." she paused, catching sight of a pile in the back of her closet.
With some effort, she pushed her closet's contents aside, shedding some light on the items in the back of her closet; things she had tossed back there eons ago, thing she had meant to throw away.
She noticed the knee-high black boots first, the boots she had washed up on the Island with and was wearing in that picture. The white mini skirt was in there as well, as was the white shirt, although it had seen better days. There were a few other T-Shirts and Capri's she had purchased when she first arrived on the Island as well. Jessilina pulled out the few items, nodding to herself; they looked fine for traipsing around Kanto in.
"It'll work," she mumbled, pulling the clothes out of her closet, littering her floor. "Its better then dirtying up all these expensive outfits . . ."
Sighing, Jessilina took off the clothes she had worn on set earlier in the day – back when everything had seemed simpler – undoing the clasp on the back of her necklace. However, she left one on, tracing the necklace with her finger. The chain was gold, a J hanging off the chain; it had seen better days, but it was the one thing she had been unable to part with.
"I wonder if James gave it to me . . ." she mumbled, pulling the chain out slightly so she could look at it.
She shook her head; she could think about that later, she couldn't think about the blue-haired man until she had met up with Melody. She had to think about her priorities. Even though her nose was crinkled up as she held up one of the shirts to herself, Jessilina shrugged, shoving it over her head.
Moments later, Jessilina chanced a glance at the mirror, taking in her appearance. She stood in front of the mirror; a light green t-shirt hanging off her frame and she had opted to wear the white mini skirt and the knee high boots she had originally been found wearing.
"It's not . . . bad . . ."
Although it still could have been better.
She was brought out of her thoughts though as she heard the front door open, followed by the sound of heavy boots. Tearing her eyes away from the mirror, Jessilina hastily moved to the door, throwing it open.
"Is that you, Karol?" she yelled, turning back to her room.
Jessilina nodded at Karol's reply, the brunette yelling that she was just here to get the last minute things she required. Hastily, Jessilina shoved the various clothes on the floor into the duffle bag, shoving her cell phone into her back pocket, and tossing the empty Pokeball she had been found with into her bag before zipping it shut.
"Hey Karol, wait a second," Jessilina called, closing her bedroom door before heading for the stairs. "I want to come with you – I got some time off work."
Karol paused, her hand on the doorknob, eyebrow raised. "Did I just hear you right? Did you seriously say you want to wander around the – wait, what are you wearing?"
Jessilina scowled at Karol, the brunette letting out a laugh as she saw Jessilina's attire. "Like you said, you're wandering around the boonies looking for Melody. You need extra eyes and like hell I'm going in my tight dresses and high heels."
"I thought you and Melody hated each other, you weren't all that concerned that she left the Island –"
"It's a two-for-one deal," Jessilina quipped, shrugging. "The talk show wants to see about broadcasting from the Laramie's Poke-althon, and possibly getting access into the Indigo League that's taking place soon. I was informed that I would be the one who would be sent if everything panes out correctly," Jessilina shifted her bag, leaning against the wall. "I decided it was time to take a small vacation, I want to go to Kanto early and get familiar with the layout."
Karol nodded; her back to Jessilina as she routed through the hall closet. "I see, well, I guess that all makes sense. I have to say though; I never thought that I'd see you in such plain clothes again. Did you pack all your fancy stuff in that small duffel bag? I figured you'd attempt to bring your entire closet."
"Ha ha," Jessilina said dryly, rolling her eyes. "When the crew comes over to film it, I was told that they would be bringing my assistants over with them, so naturally, they would be choosing my attire when the itinerary is decided on."
"I see," Karol muttered, pulling on her wind breaker. "I suppose that when we get to Kanto, you'll be going off in your own direction then? I don't think I'm going to have time to wait around in coffee shops and shopping malls waiting for your production crew to send you your itinerary."
Inwardly, Jessilina nodded. That actually worked better for her – now, she didn't have to make up some sort of story to separate herself from Karol when they docked in Vermillion City.
"I'm bringing my phone with me anyway," Jessilina said with a shrug, following after Karol. "If anything happens and the show isn't filming here, I can just phone you and then meet up with you after."
"I suppose so," Karol commented, running through her mental checklist of things she needed to bring with her. "I plan to be in Kanto for at least a month or so, no doubt Melody's travelled far from Vermillion by now."
Jessilina nodded, walking down the stone path leading away from the house, careful of her every step. She eyed the knee-high boots warily, how had she walked in these before?
"Kanto doesn't look that all huge on the map," Jessilina supplied, referring to the map Karol had been pouring over the night previous. "There are only so many places Melody could be."
"It's Melody though, if she doesn't want to be found, she won't be," Karol shook her head. "I wouldn't even put it past her to somehow slip her way over the border into Johto."
Jessilina nodded in agreement, she had thought the same thing when she had spoken to Melody. "It'll be alright Karol, she's going to show up somewhere, it's not like she knows you're coming to Kanto . . ."
Hopefully Karol didn't wind up on Cinnabar Island the same time that Melody and her were there.
###
It was still taking some getting used to.
Brock didn't think he'd ever see home again.
He had spent the past year and bit travelling the globe on the Alavanti.
A job, he knew, he no longer had. He had left with Lucy in _ City almost a month ago.
He had traveled to Hoenn, Sinnoh, and glancing at the calendar tacked up in the kitchen, he would be in Castelia City in the Unova Region.
But, he never expected to see the inside of his childhood home again.
The kitchen table was still as worn as he remembered it, the wooden top having many knicks in it from all its use. The appliances had all been updated to the newer models, the window over the kitchen sink looking out at the Pokemon Gym, the lights of Pewter City visible behind it. The living room was beyond the kitchen, their old box television being replaced with a flat screen in his absence – not that he ever had time for television with all his siblings.
"It's all the same but different . . ."
His Onix and Geodude had easily taken to the idea of being back in their old arena, taking to the rocky gym. Brock shook his head, taking his eyes off the Gym and the skyline of Pewter City.
He had thought about it a couple times, but he tried to keep his inner voice quiet: If he had survived, what had happened to Ash and Misty?
"I don't know," Macey had answered when he asked. "The news didn't mention a lot about . . ."
"Sorry," Forrester had replied, placing a hand on Brock's shoulder. "No bodies were ever recovered; you were reported to be missing – presumed to be dead by the temperature in the water."
"Don't press the issue," Flint had said. "While it is sad to think about their fate, you can't let it rule over your life. You survived – you still have a life ahead of you."
Alisha had merely shook her head. "If I were you, I wouldn't want to think about it, it's . . . not going to change what happened."
But, he found himself drifting to the topic often; the three of them meeting on this exact property. He had fought Ash in the Gym, his siblings had tried to play the sympathy card on Misty, and then he and Ash had tried to lose Misty on the outskirts of town.
His mind kept bringing up one fact to him – Ash and Misty had been with him when Dragon Rage caught up to them, their hands had been in his . . .
The doorbell rang, jolting him out of his thoughts.
Brock's head snapped up, glancing at the door which was slightly visible from the stairs leading from the kitchen to the second floor.
Probably more reporters, he thought idly, turning his back to the door. His parents had expressed his wishes to the press – he did not want to appear on screen, or even meet with them, he was not interested in talking about his survival to the public yet.
"We agreed to only one interview, we're not interested at this time." Brock heard Flint say as he opened the door.
Brock shook his head, why wouldn't the media want to interview someone believed to be dead? But, he didn't want to open that "can of worms" as his mother had put it earlier.
"Excuse me sir," a loud voice said, one Brock didn't recognize. "I'm sorry; my friend here is not very good at public speaking. We're not reporters or affiliated with any news station," Brock paused on the top of the landing, the girls' voice somewhat quieter now, Flint having tried to close the door on her. Brock shook his head, the girl was persistent, but not his problem, he thought, turning on his heel. "A friend of ours, Ash, was on the SS Anne as well, I heard Brock was friends –"
Brock didn't hear anything else the girl said.
A friend of ours Ash . . . Brock was friends . . . the words ran through his head, his hand gripping the banister tightly.
He hadn't expected anyone to actually come – he hadn't even thought of Ash's mom or Misty's sisters. But, a friend of Ash's, it wasn't his mother.
If it had been, would I want to talk to her? Brock asked himself, what would he say to her? He couldn't very well say that he was sorry that Ash had died while he hadn't . . .
"We just wanted to know how . . . how it happened, if there might be any other survivors."
Brock sighed, unable to stop the slight shaking of his body.
Just down the stairs, past the kitchen, stood a friend of Ash's . . .
He should have expected someone would come for answers – they would want answers about what happened to their son, their sister – would the Waterflower Sister's show up at the door tomorrow?
"Brock, are you alright?" came Macey's voice, peering around her door, eyebrow raised.
"I'm fine," Brock said, slowly letting go of the banister. "I was just thinking . . ."
Macey was silent for a moment, watching Brock intently. "Don't think too much," she said quietly, opening her door wider. "You might need –"
"I'm fine," he repeated again, firmly. "I just need some time to think."
Macey nodded, her eyes locked on Brock's as he smiled warily at her, walking past her room.
He had overheard his parents talking the night before – wondering if he needed to talk to someone, a psychiatrist – to help get past the disaster, to move on in the life he was granted a second chance at.
With Macey's door half shut again, Brock glanced towards the kitchen from the landing, the front door slightly visible around the refrigerator. He could see his fathers back, blocking out most of the view, no doubt trying to obstruct the view of the girl on the porch. However, he did catch sight of brown hair in the porch light – if the voice had been male, he would have thought it was Gary.
"I just wanted . . . alive as well . . . could be put back together."
Brock frowned, the voice quiet again, muffled by the hum of kitchen appliances.
His breath caught a moment later though.
The brown-haired person must have moved back, allowed Flint to close the door. As Flint moved slightly to close the door, Brock caught a quick glance at her.
Red hair . . . if a bit longer, framing her face.
She held a Pikachu in her arms.
Then the door closed, Flint flipping the deadbolt, the sound slicing through the silence in Brock's mind.
Before he knew what he was doing, Brock was heading back down the stairs, veering into the living room to find his father. _, sat in the chair near the bookshelf, glasses perched on her nose, a novel open in her lap. "Who was at the door, another reporter?"
"Might as well have been," Flint said with a shrug, reaching for the television remote. "Honestly, people just need to leave our family alone."
"Who was that at the door?" Brock asked, stepping into the room. "I heard my name come up, was it another reporter?"
"Nothing to concern yourself over," Flint said, waving the comment aside. "Over time the interest in this whole escapade will fade, like it did last time." He said the last part quietly, a frown on his features.
"I heard them mention Ash – just who was that?"
Alisha glanced from her son to her husband, her lips in a tight line as she watched the situation unfold, the novel in her lap momentarily forgotten.
"She said that she was from Pallet, one of his childhood friends. I've never seen her before, if she really was his age, she would be out on her Pokemon adventure as well; she would have had to come here for a badge."
Brock nodded silently, glancing at the living room window hidden behind curtains. Just on the other side of that glass pane was . . .
"I want to talk to her," Brock said, moving past the couch his father sat on.
"Brock," his mother warned, placing her book on the end table. "Do you think you should –"
Brock merely shook his head at his mother, cutting her off silently with a look as he past by. "Just let him go," Flint said, shaking his head. "Maybe something like this could help him move on," he shrugged. "He's just going in the yard anyway; he's not going to disappear again."
Brock didn't hear anything his parents said as he left the living room, shoving his feet carelessly into his shoes, reaching for his coat in the closet. He vaguely remembered pulling the wooden door open, pushing the screen aside as he noticed the two girls walking away, with their backs to him.
He paused, taking in their shadowed experience, the shadows of the fence playing across them. He noticed the brunette first, her hair tied up in long pigtails, talking to her Pokemon – a Meowth – who, he noticed, was walking on two feet . . .
Brock could feel his heart beat against her ribcage, his eyes darting to the other girl.
Her hair was a shade of orange-red, bright when she fell under the streetlights, a Pikachu on her shoulder.
Brock shook his head – it was like a dream to him.
A Meowth that walked on two feet . . .
A Pikachu riding on someone's shoulders . . .
A red-haired girl that showed up looking for him . . .
"It's Misty . . ."
The realization hit him like a brick as he said it out loud. Misty was alive and she had both Pikachu and Meowth with her . . .
His eyes trained on Misty's back, he started down the path after her, his steps quick and hurried. Half way down the path, Misty and her companion, now at the sidewalk, paused.
Brock's pace slowed as another silhouette appeared, stepping under the streetlight moments later. Brock paused, mid-step, recognizing Delia Ketchum immediately.
If it had been anyone, he would have expected her to appear on their doorstep. From the look on her face, she hadn't expected to find another familiar face, Pikachu jumping down from Misty's grasp, heading towards Delia.
Brock couldn't stop the shudder that escaped his body, staring at the scene before him. Delia had Pikachu in one arm as she hugged Misty with the other. No doubt this was more than Delia would have ever expected to see again, if only her son was there.
But, did this mean Ash was out there somewhere?
If both he and Misty survived Dragon Rage . . . could Ash have to? He was right beside them when they were torn away from that raft.
Brock shook his head, he could think about the what-if's later, his steps slow and measured as he approached the brunette silently watching the scene, Meowth at her feet.
"I overheard your conversation with my father . . ."
Melody jumped, lost in her own thoughts, she hadn't heard anyone approach her. "Honestly, we're leaving," she grumbled, turning on her heel. "I mean real – oh." Her retort died on her lips.
Meowth glanced up, nodding slightly in response. "Been a while, twerp."
Misty, who had yet to notice him, pulled away from Delia, the older woman holding Pikachu fondly. "I . . ." she couldn't put her thoughts into words. "I found Pikachu in Lavender Town, him and Meowth were –" Misty broke off, pointing over at Meowth.
If Melody could describe Misty's face, it was as if she had seen a ghost.
To Misty, time seemed to slow, the world falling away from her as she stared into the tanned face of her old friend.
"It's . . . really . . ." she shook her head. "BROCK!"
Her backpack thumped heavily into the ground as she tossed it aside, rushing towards him.
###
A/N: It was about time that Brock met up with Misty, she seems to be the one collecting everybody, whether she wants to or not. This scene was really hard to write, as it was written at the end of the previous chapter in Melody's point of view. I find that writing as Brock is the character that always seems rather difficult. In regards to Dawn's contests, I didn't see a lot of the Diamond/Pearl Saga and I didn't really like Dawn's character, so I'm basing her off my knowledge of the character. Since her and Jim/James are the furthest away from the Kanto area, that's why they don't appear as often as the others.
Until next time!