ice
Sighing, Misty turned off the lamp next to her bed as she pulled up the covers. Life had somehow become so much more complicated in the matter of a few hours, what with Ash finding her again after seven years. And she had never known, never even dared to imagine that he would somehow still want her. She thought back to Ash's last kiss... and blushed.
You idiot, she told herself. Stop thinking about it! "But I want to," she whispered to herself.
His touch still lingered on her as if reluctant to leave. She could still feel his arms around her, his lips pressed against hers, the feeling of his hands as they held her desperately...
Desperately?she thought. That didn't seem right. Maybe he was afraid to lose her...? No, that was stupid; she was fantasizing. But it did make sense, in a way. The only question was why. And what about his story? He'd claimed that the reason for his disappearance was somehow linked to time-travel, but it just didn't seem plausible. Unless, of course, he had met Celebi, the legendary time-traveling Grass-and-Psychic-type Pokemon. The two of them had met one before on their travels, when a Celebi had traveled from the past to the present, but the Celebi were extremely rare. Besides, it was even rarer that a Celebi would time-travel with a human unless in dire need.
She lay there, thinking, wondering, dreaming in the darkness. Ash's sudden appearance had roused something within her, something she had tried so hard to suppress while he had been gone - feelings. She had to calm down... Breathe in, breathe out. That was the advice her sisters had given her when they first taught her how to swim. And a world of good that's done me, she thought wryly.
Misty turned over, her hand reaching underneath her pillow for the picture she had kept there for seven years. She pulled it out, sat up, and flicked on the light again. She almost gasped as she saw what was written on the back of the picture. Evidently, Ash did take time to search your room, her mind said. See?
Be quiet! she told her mind, and began to read.
Misty, I'm glad to see you still thought of me, the paper went. Sorry if I'm being intrusive. I looked at the paper on your dresser, too. Thanks for rejecting that "idiot", even if it wasn't for me.
-Ash
"It was for you, though," she murmured. Flipping the picture over, she stared at the face she had known for so long, and then thought of the face it had become. There really is no doubt it's him, she thought, but I just don't know... even if he's practically said it... I just don't know if I can feel about him the same way anymore. God, I'm so sleepy...
Her head nodded as she tried to concentrate, unwilling to lose her grip on reality, lest it turn out to be a dream. "Ash..." She lay back down and held the picture up to the light. "Why did you have to change... why did I... have to change? It's not fair... it's just not fair to either of us, is it..."
The world blurred, and then it went pitch black.
Light pierced through the window, the curtains, and then Ash's eyes. Groaning, he pulled himself up to face the window, pushing the curtains aside. His eyes looked out on a scenery that was, at the same time, both familiar and alien to him.
"Cerulean's really changed in the last seventeen years - no, seven years - no, both," he said, smiling faintly to himself. He let the curtain swing shut and slid off of the bed, feet sinking into carpet. His silent footsteps took him to the door, then down the hallway to Misty's bedroom. Cautiously, he nudged open the door. Misty slept in her bed, the covers twisted around her. A relieved half-sigh came from him as he turned back to the small living room. His jacket lay on the couch, undisturbed except for the portion that covered its pocket. Ash checked the pocket and found that the paper he had carried for three years was gone. His memory flashed as he remembered the events of last night, and a blush almost tinged his cheeks.
"Ho-oh, what was I thinking?" he murmured dazedly. "How stupid can I get...?" He cast about for the lost paper and realized that Misty must still have it somewhere. Dammit, he cursed inwardly. I should've thought it out... I shouldn't have let her see it... most of all, I shouldn't have kissed her then. Raising her hopes like that. I really am an idiot, just like she's always known me to be...
Sighing, he pulled his jacket on and walked to the front door, then stopped. He frowned slightly, then walked back into Misty's room and emerged with her keys. Satisfied, he finally stepped outside.
"Nnh..." Misty opened her eyes, blearily read the time on the clock, then shut her eyes again. It was Sunday, wasn't it? Then there was no need for her to get up at eight...
Suddenly she sat up, heart pounding. Last night hadn't been some hallucination, had it? Ash had really come back, he really had, and he'd -
Oh God. She couldn't think anymore. Not when she was remembering his last kiss like a waking dream, and especially not when the temperature threatened to make her fingers drop off. Shivering, she slid out of bed, carefully locked the door to her bedroom, and began to dress.
Once done, she checked herself in the mirror, pulling every crease straight. A prick of annoyance kept attacking her from the direction of her mind, but her pounding heart left no room for discussion. Ash was here. Or, at least, he had been here last night. Right? It hadn't been some dream or hallucination. She had really felt his body press against her as he lowered his lips to hers...
"Shut up shut up shut up!" she growled fiercely at her reflection, which growled back. Her brow furrowed as she tried to tease her carrot-orange hair into something that looked less like a Tangela's vines and more like... hair. Failing this, she tied it tightly into her usual Ponytatail and was in the middle of inspecting it when a hand descended on her shoulder. She froze. Ash hesitated, unsure of what to do, unsure of what she expected him to do. After an awkward pause, during which both of them blushed, he said quickly, "You look amazing today," which was his honest opinion.
"Thanks," said Misty, unable to think.
Ash reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out Misty's keys. Her eyes widened.
"What were you doing with those?" she said icily. Ash shrugged, tossing them to her, and merely replied, "I went out."
"Oh." She relaxed.
As Ash left the room, Misty breathed a sigh of relief, slumping against the wall. She'd never even imagined how awkward this would be, either. It was only natural, right? They hadn't seen each other for seven years... and he'd changed. They had both changed. And somehow, he seemed... older. Even older than herself. And technically, she was supposed to be a year older than he was.
"But, of course, he traveled through time, so I can't say anything," she muttered. She pocketed her keys, took a breath, and pushed open the door.
The smell of fast food hit her like a Surf attack. A paper bag sat on the coffee table, a note on it.
He just always has to leave a note for everything, doesn't he? she thought wryly, and tore off the note.
Hey, I'm going out again, the note read. I got this for you earlier.
"Dammit. He always leaves at the worst times," she grumbled. "I finally gather the nerve to ask him what he's been doing for the last seven years, and he leaves. Great."
Then a sudden realization hit her, and she patted her pocket to make sure her keys were there. They were.
And Ash had left without them.
"What...?" she whispered. Without the keys, he couldn't get into the apartment... so did that mean--
Memories flashed through her mind like a Sacred Fire.
"I don't ever want to leave you again."
"Then don't leave."
Ash shook his head. "It's not as easy as that."
"Dammit!"
Within the next second she was out the door.
The air was chilling. Misty panted, her breaths making clouds in the air, as the sun set in the distance. Shadows stretched long over the sidewalk, and the area was nearly deserted. She groaned as the last rays vanished behind the buildings.
"Ho-oh... that idiot. That freaking idiot!"
Her gasps subsided slowly. She'd looked everywhere, searched every place in Cerulean City, and yet she couldn't find him. Once or twice she had thought she was getting close, but then the trail had gone cold. Literally. She folded her arms around herself, trying to stay warm, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.
She couldn't let herself think that he had left. Never. Never ever ever. He hadn't left, and that was it. He was simply hiding from her, yes, that was it. She couldn't find him because he wasn't letting her. Yes. Yes...
"Oh God..." Misty collapsed onto the pavement and let her tears flow. Sobs shook her thin frame. There just wasn't any way that that was true, was there. He was gone. Again. And she had known that he would go, and she had simply let him. She had let him go again, the only one who mattered to her, the only one who would ever matter. It had always been that way, and it was always going to be that way. The world was just so unfair.
"Damn you!" she screamed, voice breaking. The sound echoed off the dark buildings. "Damn you, Ash Ketchum! Why can't you just leave me alone?" She cried, cold, shivering, her body wracked with sobs, unable to accept it, unable to think or to move... "You always have to do this to me, you always come and then walk away like I'm nothing to you... and I hate it! I hate your guts, you heartless bastard!"
A shudder ran through her as tears ran down her face, down her hands, cold, freezing her to the spot. He's gone, he's gone, he's gone, her entire being seemed to scream. He's gone, forever, you'll never see him again, he's gone...
"Who said anything about walking away?"
She gasped. No. Nonononono. It was a delusion, some hallucination sprung from her brain, a figment of her imagination. There was just no way. Her eyes stared sightlessly before her, at the ground, and she heard - no, she thought she heard footsteps.
"Misty."
The sound was like water. Water, in the sense that it restored her. Water, in the sense that it was what she loved. Water, because it was spoken in Ash Ketchum's voice.
"No," she whispered.
Another step. "Yes."
"No, no, shut up, go away go away!" she nearly screamed, but she felt as if someone was holding her, kneeling beside her on the concrete, hands clutching at her shoulders, her back, her waist, unwilling to let go. It was all a delusion, she knew, but it was just so real that she couldn't help looking into his eyes.
"You're going to disappear," she said breathlessly to the illusion. He shook his head, and she buried her face in his chest. "You're going to leave."
"No."
"Yes."
Ash kissed her, so many times that it seemed real, and she started crying again just because it felt like he was really there. She thought she heard a single word escape from his nonexistent lips.
"Sorry."
She looked at him, this dream, and smiled through her tears. "You're an idiot." She wiped a hand across her eyes. "Stupid. Idiot. Baka. Moron. Imbecile. Dolt. Nitwit."
"I'm sorry," he said again, his arms holding her so tightly she never wanted him to let go.
"Why do you have to say sorry right when it's not real?" she said, half-laughing, half-crying. "Why is it that you can never apologize to me when it's not a dream?"
"It's not a dream."
"It is."
"Then stop thinking it's a dream," was all he could say. And she could only cry.
He carried her home in his arms, even though she protested, even though he knew she could walk by herself. He did it, not only for her, but also for himself, because he felt that he just needed to hold her. And it just wasn't the same if she was walking beside him.
When they reached the door to Misty's apartment, she barely noticed when he pulled out a key identical to hers and unlocked the door. It swung open, and he carried her to her room, where he laid her on the bed. She was almost asleep when he leaned over the bed and kissed her gently in the darkness. A stifled whimper issued from her, and he stopped before he walked out the door.
"What?" he whispered.
"I'm just so embarrassed," Misty whispered back.
"About what?"
There was a long pause. "You know. When I... I..."
"It was my fault. I should've thought it over."
He saw her nod slowly. "But I'm still the one who did it."
Ash sighed. "I'm the one who made you do it."
"I'm sorry for calling you a bastard."
"I'm sorry for making you call me a bastard."
"Good. You should feel sorry." A smile parted her lips. Pain lanced through him even as joy did; the thought of ever having to leave her was so unbearable that he considered, for a second, asking her to leave with him.
"Misty..." he began.
"What?"
"...nothing."
He heard her sit up. "It can't be nothing. Tell me," she demanded.
"How did I know you were going to be stubborn about this, too?" Ash groaned.
"Just tell me. You can't keep me out forever if you're going to kiss me senseless every single day," she said, with a hint of a blush. Then more softly, "Are you going to leave?"
"Maybe."
Silence.
"You know, you haven't told me what happened to you yet."
"I know. I've been avoiding it."
"Stop avoiding it."
He shook his head. Misty stood and walked over to him, slowly wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his neck, hoping and hoping that he would only tell her, that was all she wanted...
"I can't."
"You're lying." Even though he had never lied to her in his entire life, even though he didn't want to lie to her, and she knew it. It was the only way for her to live.
"No." And he gently, painfully, pushed her away. "I'll tell you tomorrow."
And he was gone.
Tomorrow, he said. Always tomorrow. Never now, never ever right then and there, he just had to always lay it off until later, didn't he? Never the present, always tomorrow. Time was his master, Time was his slave. He didn't know how to do it. He couldn't. It was just... impossible. He had reviewed this moment every day since he had gone back, every day that he knew he was getting closer, closer, closer to coming back to her, and yet he still couldn't do it.
Never never never ever.
The air was cold. He was cold. In her room, Misty was cold, crying, broken and fragile.
"Goddamn it."
He hoped that tomorrow would come.
From the Author:
I know it doesn't make too much sense, and I know that some of the places are a bit awkward, but hopefully the kinks will smooth out.
Eventually.
Anyways, this is Chapter Three of Turning the Clock, and I hope all of my readers enjoy it.