Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon, it belongs to its respective owner.
Thanks to Amorous-Thunder for beta-reading~
The Part of Me I Will Never Forget
Chapter 4: Who to turn to?
Awakening to blank walls, a certain Pokemon Trainer sighed. He'd only been in the house for a day, and yet the sight of it - and thought of it - tired him.
Why? Because a certain "old friend" lived right across the street.
"Misty..." He stared up at the ceiling, remembering his meeting with her yesterday. "Just what did I do...?" He closed his eyes, trying to think frantically. Bringing a hand to his face in thought, "Last time I saw her, she was leaving us..."
He remembered it like it was yesterday: the morning they arrived at the center, the unexpected call from her sisters, the look on her face when she saw the bike...
"Yes, the bike," he thought aloud. Misty had always complained about the bike, and how she hated being stuck by him; "joined by the hip," she'd say. He remembered her insults somewhat fondly:
"Ash Ketchum! We're unfortunately joined by the hip, and until I get my bike back, don't you dare think otherwise!"
"Oh, slacking off are we? Remember you've got a bike to pay for. Get to it. Now."
"Ha, Gary's twice the trainer you'll ever be, stop being such a wuss. I need my piece of scrap metal to get away as soon as possible~"
Getting up from his messy, unmade bed, he looked out of the window. Their bedrooms were both at the front of their houses, Ash could tell, as he doubted her sisters' bedrooms would be that deep sea shade with several water pokemon plushes on the windowsill. Sinking down to the dusty floor, he sighed once again. At their unexpected meeting, Misty looked a hell of a lot different: her hair was way past shoulder length. It hung around her straightly with a little plait down the side. It was still her trademark orange, though, which radiated onto her slightly pale face. Her attire had changed, too: a short denim mini skirt, sandals, and a T-shirt.
'She's still a tomboy, I hope.'
Ash had always loved that boyish streak about her - which he thought was weird of him to think. She had that competitiveness, fierceness, ambition - and stubbornness - that no one else could match.
Suddenly he realized he'd lost his original aim of trying to resolve with her. Instead, he was losing himself in thoughts of her once again.
"What did I do wrong, Pikachu...," he moaned to his sleeping companion who was nestled in the duvet that had actually been neat the night before.
'Well, I did have a tendancy to insult her,' he pondered. His face screwed up. 'Wait. She caused the arguments most of the time! Why should I feel bad for that...?'
Consistently fighting with himself like this wasn't going to get him anywhere, though...
'She was crying when she left. I can understand. Me, her, and Brock had been best friends for years... but she hated me! Why else would she insult me and complain about the bike 24/7! Okay, we had some laughs, but in the end, she'd always say: "Wait until I'm out of here, I'll be a water Pokemon master and beat you, hands down!"'
Rubbing his temples, he yawned. "Whatever it is I've done - how do I exactly... make it up to her? She's hard to please."
"Ash!~~ Breakfast's ready!" Delia shouted up the stairs.
Breaking his path of thought, his stomach rumbled loudly.
The shout also woke up Pikachu, who blinked sleepily and looked around, letting out a tired squeak. "Pikaa.."
Ash looked over his shoulder. "C'mon, we'll think about this later," he muttered to the disturbed Pokemon, whilst picking it up half-heartedly, dragging his feet out to the empty hallway and down the stairs.
"Well, put that pot over there... No, no, no! The one with the lilies!"
Misty grunted.
Being ordered around by the most bossiest girls ever - on a Sunday?
'What an idea of fun,' she thought.
They were trying to cheer her up, she knew. After her video call to them both yesterday (not to mention Delia, who Misty needed desperate answers from), they'd been wanting a word with a certain someone...
*Flashback*
"HE WHAT?" Erika and Sakura screamed at me through the screen. I swear I felt the air move each time they opened their mouths. "Why is he back? Why didn't his mother tell you?" Questions like this were rapidly asked like a quickfire round. I really couldn't get a word in edge ways. I rubbed my face, which was a mess from crying. I felt really silly, not to mention ashamed, of my tears.
"I don't know," I answered truthfully. They were red in the face from anger. It was as if I could see their brains ticking in overdrive.
'How to Kill Ash Ketchum,' was a rather hazy topic. I snuffled at that, and Erika could see it.
"Look, Misty, we're not having him do this. Next time we see him, he's going to wish we hadn't."
I smiled bleakly. Erika's very caring and kind. Both of them are... like sisters, but not the airhead type.
"Get on the phone with his mother," Sakura instructed.
"But I-"
"Now," they stated firmly, both pursing their lips like two stern parents.
"Okay..." I murmured slowly, and then hesitated. "I'll see you both tomorrow, then? I'm not in the mood for... well..."
Erika put her finger to the screen as if to quieten me.
Nodding simultaneously, they both smiled.
"We'll see you tomorrow. Keep us updated!"
"Yeah, see you..."
They winked reassuringly, and then the screen went black. I couldn't help thinking about the conversation after that. They knew about Ash, but... not quite everything.
*End flashback*
"Erika, she's stopped." They both looked out over the hedge, where Misty was staring out at the pavement, sitting on the stone wall next to the flower patch. "Hey, we'll leave her for a bit. She needs to think for a bit...,"
Sakura nodded and faced their fazed-out friend. "Misty! Is it okay to get a couple of drinks from inside? You look like you need one in this weather..."
"Mm..." Misty didn't turn her head, and the two girls sighed. They made their way into the house.
Misty sat, idly playing with a lily, stroking it's pink petals absent-mindedly. "I hate this. Why did he have to mess my life up again?"
*Flashback*
I remember, some time after splitting up, I saw him again. A few times actually. Not in reality, but on TV - you know - after a victorious win or a dreadful loss. I heard him on the radio several times, too, as well as from friends of whom we travelled with on the road. I'd always turn my nose up with disgust at his mention: the way he only focused on battling, the way he didn't show much interest in anything else but food and Pokemon.
But one time, there was an interview. He'd won at the Battle Frontier... or something. I can't remember exactly. This one time would make me never forgive him (of course, not that I was going to anyway...)
It was two years ago. I was 14, and it was two years after we split. I was at the gym. It was a rainy day, and there was no way I was travelling back to the house drenched. I was flicking through the channels on TV - when suddenly the news popped up. "The famous Battle Fronteir has been beaten!" The news reporter had said in a joyous voice. "Let's go live to the scene for more info on the victory!" Fans were screaming in the background as he came out. There was that oh-so-familiar face I that I hated, and he was waving his arms at all the cheers; a massive grin was spread widely across his face. The spotlight shined directly on him, highlighted the stage, and the reporters flocked like sheep to get a few words from the champion.
"So, how do you feel after this big win?" The interviewer shoved a microphone to his mouth. Cameras were snapping rapidly, and lights were flashing.
"I feel ecstatic! It was pressuring- and exhausting, but I made it!"
"You sure did! What training techniques were used? Please let us in on your secret to other eager trainers out there!"
The woman interviewing frantically waved a hand to the screen as the crowd was moving at a hectic pace.
"Oh, training? Love, care, and attention are what Pokemon need most! Not to mention a good diet. My friend, Brock - a breeder - took care of that. He's a pro chef!"
Brock, next to Ash, waved his hand at the woman, embarrassed. He was about to speak in his adoring voice and take her hand in a knightly manner- as usual to all the ladies- but was shoved heavily out of the mass before he could get a word in, receiving glares from reporters.
The woman nodded quickly, blanking her admirer completely. She wasn't too interested in either Ash or Brock. It was clearly obvious.
"So your friends are helping you? Teamwork and support?"
"Oh, yes! I don't know where'd I be without them. May, Max, and Brock have been here all the way."
May and her brother smiled at the woman for a split-second, before also being kicked out of the jumble, to join their unrequited companion on the sidelines.
The woman smiled - almost evilly. She knew her next question.
"What about Misty Waterflower? Wasn't she like, always there, cheering you on?"
Ash's face went from excited to a bored expression.
"Oh, her? I don't know her anymore. I don't want to know her, anyway. She left me when I needed her. Nothing more, nothing less."
A look of shock appeared on the woman's face, as well as everyone else's.
The crowd split apart, as he waved a dismissive hand at the camera. Walking to May, Brock and Max, they exited the massive hall. No other words were said, the only noise was the murmurs of fans still residing in their seats, not knowing the situation.
"Well, that's all we hav-"
I switched the TV off. I didn't want to listen to it anymore. I remember sitting alone on the couch, watching the rain drizzle miserably against the window pane. My jaw stuttering, whilst tears rolled down my face.
If he didn't want to know me, I didn't want to know him either.
*End Flashback*
"Misty." Erika was sitting in front of the still-fazed girl, a hand on her shoulder. The girl was shaking now, though. Her knees knocking against each other. Sakura watched her friend with a helpless expression.
Rising up slowly, Misty looked across the hedge to the house across the road: the house that used to have that particular "for sale" sign in front of it. The house he lived in.
She was bursting into tears once again.