Until The Day, Chapter 9
Sometime before deciding he would tell her only after he became a pokemon master, his first Freudian slip occurred when she was crumpled over the back deck and pulling at the flowers. Ash did not know that Misty's parents had passed away until they were late in their teens. He remembered asking her so sincerely what happened to them, and she yelled at him for being so insensitive!
How could you ask me that! She screamed before launching an apple at his head from across the kitchen. Had anyone else been around at the time, they probably would have informed him that it was notpolite to ask about such things, especially after mocking said parents in an attempt to burn her. Without any guidance, he was confused as to what he did.
Back then, he did not understand the issue—how badly it hurt. Ash had never lost anyone before.
"Did you know my mom almost named me Rose?" Misty spoke. It was not a question, even Ash could understand that. What was it that Brock called them? Rhetorical questions? While while to the back deck, his eyes shifted back and forth. He looked left, then right, then back at Misty who exhaled and finally pat the porch deck beside her for him to sit while she elaborated.
"Daisy has blonde hair like a daisy, Lily has pink hair like some lilies, and Violet had purple-blue hair like violets—do you see where I'm going with this?" Ash shook his head.
"Since I was a redhead, my mom was going to name me Rose." Misty announced boldly, kicking her feet out. "But my dad said to her one day that I cried too much and my eyes were always misty, and I kept them up all hours of the night both when she was pregnant with me and after I was born. My sisters complained that my mother used to cry all the time when she was pregnant with me, too, but I don't know how much of that is true..." While she spoke, a spark formed in her eyes, which traveled the distance of her nose, forcing her frowned lips to twitch into a subtle grin, and Ash found himself grinning with her.
Misty's smile was always contagious. "I never thought you would be a crier, Mist." He joked, nudging her arm while she rolled her eyes.
"Anyways, they settled on Misty."
"And what happened to Rose?" Ash inquired, leaning forward while she looked away from him. Ash narrowed his eyes.
"...A middle name?" He asked, watching her eyes turn from him.
"Don't tell anyone." She warned him, holding a finger up to his face; and then smiled. "...There was also another reason we didn't."
Ash watched her hand as she lowered it back to the porch, and then her face. "My mother's name was Rose, because she had red hair, like me."
A silence fell between them, and Ash raised his eyebrows. He was not sure what to say to her. Would it have been appropriate to ask if she would have rather had her mother's name? That way she could always remember her after her tragic passing? Once again, the urge to ask what happened curved at the tip of his tongue, but he held it and blurted the next best thing.
"My mom named me after my dad." Perhaps the next worst thing.
"Really?" She puzzled, eyes wide, and Ash nodded, looking a little apathetic, then energetic, and finally playful.
"But you have to guess first." he said while watching her bloodshot eyes as they focused in on him for the first time.
She peered into his brown eyes, a look that usually intimated him into throwing out a snide remark just so she would look away... but he could see that they were puffy, and he knew that she had been crying and wasn't going to stop until she cracked one sincere smile. It was his fault, so by nature, he should cheer her up. That was his job as her friend.
"I am not!" Finally she answered and jerked away from him as Ash shrugged.
"Then I guess I can't tell you." He challenged her, and Misty cocked her jaw to one side.
"Fine. Your middle name is Ash Pokemon Ketchum."
Ash raised his eyebrows, confused at first, then watched her grin tug from ear to ear and disbelief muddled his senses while she explained.
"Because your dad was probably a pokemon—it would explain your personality!" She yelped watching his expression change from confusion to absolute horror while he playfully swat her arm and nudged her roughly.
"That's messed up!" He cried at her while she attempted to hop down from the porch, but Ash snagged her arm and dragged her to the wooden floor with him, following a giggling fit while he settled into a silent hum beside her; watching her face while she looked up at the sky above them.
"I'm sorry I got so upset, I don't usually get like that... it's just..." She paused for a very long time, and Ash, in his young teenage mind, thought she might have zoned out until:
"Today's the day my parents died." she said flatly.
Quietly, he watched her expression unsure if he should reach out to her, applaud her strength, or apologize for bringing it up. It wasn't like he knew, today was the day he came home from the Sinnoh league, it wasn't like he planned to be home today. Instead, he leaned on his hand.
"I don't have one."
"One of what?" Misty asked while blinking stray tears away before they fell and staring at him with wide green eyes while he pursed his lips.
"A middle name."
"But you said—" She stopped, realization sinking in. "-oh, I'm sorry."
Ash smiled at her, gazing into her eyes for a long time. "He left before I was born. My mom obviously wasn't very happy."
"I guess so. I didn't know... Does it ever bother you?" She asked looking up at him with sincerity he didn't know could exist in her eyes, and he swore at himself for getting so close to her. Her lips were only inches from his, her tilt the perfect angle to steal a sweet kiss, but the time was wrong; her heart was still hammering in her chest, and her eyes were still murky.
"...sometimes." he admit honestly for the first time in years, eyes falling from hers to her pink lips.
"Why don't you ever talk about it?" She asked, the part of her lips sending prickles of shivers down his back. He had to get away.
Ash brushed her hair behind her head, and ruffled her hair like he did to pikachu's fur on occasion, ending the moment before it fell into uncommon ground.
"Do you want to have a battle?"
The groan that left her brought a smile to his lips. "Is that all you think about?"
Ash looked back at her, grinning. "I think of...other stuff." He offered weakly and Misty nodded.
"Really? Like what." by the time she posed the question, they were sitting up again, looking into the meadow before them.
Ash stopped, listened to his mother talk to Professor Oak about Mr. Mime's strange behavior, and Brock who was whining about his departure to the Johto region soon and his face screwed up. He thought about a lot of things he didn't tell people about—failures, victories, life after battling, unobtainable goals, traveling alone... Ash inhaled.
"How much I like you?" He said quickly, quietly, and all the while leaping from the porch and leaving Misty in a state of oblivious confusion. For awhile, he thought he might face her, but chickened out in the end.
"What?!" She croaked, knowing that she heard him wrong. He threw his arms up at her.
"C'mon, Misty, are you going to sit up there all day and cry or are you going to battle me? I was almost a champion you know!"
He didn't need to watch the rage boil into her eyes while she jumped forward. "I'm going to sweep the floor with you, Ketchum!"
XOX
Delusions—hallucinations-were normal in a time of great distress. A delirious moment of weakness that gripped the edge of sanity in attempt to keep the world at peace, where it should be. Ash was never a man who found false solutions, or ran from his problems; so his surprise at waking up in the very same hospital he remembered from what he declared was a nightmare was the equivalent of pikachu shocking him several hundred times, being shot, or the life breaking news he was given only days ago.
Tears immediately stung his eyes, but he refused to let them fall in fear of scaring his mother who sat beside him. The body and mind's natural reaction to any unfavorable situation was to recreate, disturb what was really there in the mind's best attempt of understanding a situation.
….but what he had just gone through was cruel, and wrong, and so very frustrating he wanted to scream. Then, when his eyes adjusted, he realized right away that one of them was swollen nearly completely shut and under the bright shade of the red curtain hanging over the window he could see his mother's puffy eyes and quivering lips. How much pain had she gone through now? First Misty was...and now he was laying in a hospital bed.
How uncharacteristically selfish...
Brock tapped his heel against the tile floor, listening to the nurses move up and down the hallway. It was the first time Ash could say that he didn't see Brock attempt to hit on someone. Things must have looked pretty bad. Even, Pikachu, who was curled onto his chest—not realizing it hurt more than Ash could explain—didn't realize what was happening.
The cues where there, time was fleeting, moments were too perfect, and the answers were all too easy. Ash should have known better; and apart of him did know. He simply didn't want to believe it. Ash wanted to see her smile again; maybe a part of him wanted to see himself smile honestly, pretend this awful nightmare wasn't...Ash swallowed.
He imagined it all; and for what? To hide from the inevitable? He choked on his sore throat to keep his tears at bay, then blinked furiously when Delia and Brock moved into a slow hover while his breathing stalled.
"...Hey mom." He muttered, his voice scratchy while she looked down at him in a complete panic that faded into a sudden sigh.
"Oh, Ash, you're alright." She expressed, falling back into her chair with a satisfied sigh.
"Yeah." Ash muttered aloud, but he was far from alright. They had no idea where he had been, if any of it was real or that he imagined it all.
"What happened, man?" Brock asked, rushing to him as pikachu perked up on his chest and started whining in worry—a very normal reaction. "The police found you beaten up; who did this to you?"
"An asshole." Ash muttered, forcing himself to sit up, only to realize he felt worse than he looked. Luckily, his mental anguish still outweighed the physical damage to his body, so while he sat up, he ignored the possible rib injuries and forced a smile to his two visitors. Since his mother didn't correct him for his language, he knew he had to be beaten pretty badly.
"I feel like I've been hit by a truck." He observed, noting the swelling in his face, the feeling of a busted lip; the pain shooting everywhere else in his body.
"That's what it looks like. God, Ash, you don't need to protect the guy that did this." Brock said affirmatively, apparently sick and tired of watching his friends get hurt. "It was that stupid fiance, wasn't it? Out for a little revenge? Pssh, just because he's a lawyer doesn't mean he's above the law!"
Brock punched the wall with the flat of his fist in an uncommon outburst of rage that made the three waters jump and settle down. Delia fanned for Brock to sit, indicating that he should calm down—but Ash knew that feeling well enough. He was angry, too.
"...eh, I probably deserved it." Ash muttered, though he knew that he didn't, not really. "Have I been here the whole time?" Ash asked in a daze while Delia and Brock nodded.
"The last twelve hours, at least, you were unconscious when we found you." His mother explained, taking his hand and stroking from the wrist to the finger tip, checking his pulse, assuring herself that he was really okay.
Eventually, that movement brought a crack to her motherly facade, and tears streamed down her face while she held the flat of her hand to her face and started bawling. It had to have been horrible for her, Ash was laying half-dead for what felt like three years for him, but was only a few hours few hours for her, and Misty was just down the hallway, in worse condition.
"How's Misty?" Ash finally asked, feeling worse now that he spent twelve hours playing house in his imagination. Of course, it made sense now why everything worked out; why her life was so perfect—Mew, he probably didn't really see Xerneas, either. Some pipe dream invented by a desperate hero. Ash inhaled, and looked up at Brock who looked down at him, then took a seat, he couldn't find it in him to answer, but Delia, through her tears, croaked again and Ash could only nod quietly.
"I'm..." he said, awkwardly pulling on the IV poking in his arm. Neither Brock or Delia moved to stop him while he shifted out of the hospital bed in his small gown with pikachu at his side determined.
"I'm going to go see her now." Calmly, Ash left the plug and walked barefoot through the white door. Least they matched now. He looked how he felt. Suiting, given he was saying goodbye to his best friend.
However, as he neared the familiar room, hobbling down the hallway with one confident step at a time, he stopped at the appearance of three girls staring into her room, sobbing. Ash stiffened his lip, and approached them.
"'Ey." Ash introduced himself, and the sisters looked at him crookedly, then started wiping their tears. They didn't have to say anything while they looked at Misty's graying skin, and the heart monitor beeping slower every second. There was nothing they could say.
"She loved you guys." Ash managed, rubbing the back of his neck. It was enough to send Daisy into sobs, and Lily into shakes Violet shook her head.
"How can you say that? I'm the reason she's in here." She croaked and Ash scoffed politely.
"There seems to be a lot of self-blaming going around lately." He replied, and Violet looked at him, through him.
"You don't understand what happened! I screwed up. And now... and now-!" She explained breaking into a violent turmoil of tears while Ash, unsure of what to do, pat Violet on the arm while her sisters swarmed her into a group hug.
"Like, next time use words, Violet."
"Next time, there isn't going to be a next time. My sister's dead!" She screamed and her legs went weak, but luckily her sisters were there to catch her. Ash wasn't sure what to feel for them, if he should feel sorry, or angry. Partially the reason was because Misty ran out of the gym after the incident, but it wasn't her fault. Misty made her own decisions.
"Is your mom here?" Daisy asked and Ash nodded solemnly while the eldest sister offered a weak smile. "Do you think maybe we could stop in for awhile?"
"Yeah, she'd probably like that, she's down the hall in my room." Ash pointed in the direction, and the sisters moved in a ruined flock down the hall. Violet's sobs echoed loudly through the hallway run cold jabs into his aching body while pikachu's ears lowered, and Ash exhaled loudly. When he turned from the hallway, to the mirror where he faced her again his mind froze.
Technically, they weren't supposed to enter her room, they had to watch from a distance—but really, what were they protecting? The doctors already declared her dead, or at least, they didn't care anymore. The stitches weren't healing, her body never entered remission, so in their minds, she was a write off; which meant in Ash's mind, he didn't feel guilty entering the room.
Latex gloves scent filled his nostrils in direct contrast with her natural wild berry scent when he walked in. Inside, the room was clean, untouched except for her bed and monitor. He could hear the subtle beep of the heart monitor slowly fading, and lifted the visitor's chair from beside the door, to the bed beside her. He took a seat, slumping into it with a groan. His ribs were definitely broken.
A few minutes passed before he adjusted to the tongue biting, fist clutching pain in his sides, and he settled into a slow lean to her. Up and down. Up and down. Her chest rose, then fell softly, the only indication that she breathing. Long gone was her creamy pale skin, and replaced it was a graying skeleton of a woman.
Underneath that, it was still her thought.
"Hey Mist." Ash announced while straightening his back and pursing his lips at her image.
Up close, she didn't look so bad. Her hair was partially shaved from the incision, and there was no telling how many cuts and bruises she had below her blanket. Her arm had been poked several times for blood tests, IV lines, and his stomach curled. Naturally, Ash tucked his hand into hers and squeezed very, very gently.
"I'm sorry for not visiting sooner, I was off having an imaginary adventure with myself, apparently." Ash joked, feeling a bit ashamed. "I just... I miss you so much... your sarcasm, and your bravery; and I've missed that a lot longer than you've been in here." Speaking was difficult even now, his voice wavered and he watched her chest rise, then fall and quietly prayed while inhaling.
"I wasn't a good friend, I really screwed up—over something stupid, and small—when I should have just apologized for acting like a jerk. I had no reason to judge you for your date, or snap at you for doing well—or really any of the things that I did; which really don't mean much now, do they?"
He watched for a reaction, but the familiar, subtle heart beat was his only reply. "And I know, I was pulling at straws to get you back; find some magical solution to a very real problem." he scoffed. "It's funny how brave I am until it's someone I care about."
His eyes lifted when he looked at her again, brushing his finger along hers. "But.. and maybe I'm just going crazy, but for awhile; it felt real, like you were there, and by some luck I found the answer I've been looking for—a way to save you, and to fix all of your problems and it was really nice, being with you again."
Ash rubbed his face and sighed.
"I bet if you were awake right now, you would tell me you didn't need help, and that you can take care of yourself. You'd laugh that I found the solution to all of your problems—because hey, of course I found the solution, it was my imagination, after all." While licking his lips, Ash smiled down at her, then kissed her forehead, lingering for a moment to fight back the feeling at the pitch of his stomach, to ignore the pain swelling in his chest.
"I don't understand why you won't open your eyes. I honestly never thought this would be happening, my best friend dying so early. I always figured, even if we still hated each other, we would die old and decrepit and throwing insults at one another across the hallway in some torn up nursing home." his brows quivered while he squeezed her hand affectionately. "It's weird knowing that... people die-that you could die—and maybe it's because I've survived so many life threatening accidents that... I didn't think it was possible." Ash inhaled, blinking his tears away.
"When I first met you, I thought you were most annoying person on this planet, Mist. When you started following me around I thought for sure my life as a trainer was over; and then I got to know you, and we became friends, and then we grew up and everything just..."
This was a lot harder than he thought it would be, everything he was saying felt so wrong, like he was asking for forgiveness for something that outside of his power.
"I never told you back then, and maybe I should have; but you were amazing. Powerful, and brave; and even if we had a weird relationship, you always kept me on my toes. A part of me was jealous, and another part of me was so proud of your accomplishments and determination. I fell in love with you when we were still kids and..."
He stopped.
"We weren't perfect. I was selfish, and jealous, and maybe a little possessive, but man, I didn't know what do with those feelings—I had never been in love, and I never thought it would be with someone so..well, you." Ash looked up to her gray face, where cheeks sunk into her cheek bones, and he smiled sincerely. He brought her knuckles to his lips as he leaned over, elbows dug into her bed.
"I'm so sorry things weren't different between us, that I couldn't help you sooner.. I wish I had told you back then, done things differently... but we can only do our best—make our own decisions, and sometimes, they aren't the best...but, jeeze, what am I trying to say?"
Croaking on his thoughts and sitting back to keep his tears contained, he exhaled and bit down on his bottom lip.
"I don't know if I was going crazy, or if it was really you; but I meant it. Every word. I just wish we had longer together; it feels like our time was cut so short, and there were so many things I never got to say. I wanted things to be better between us, Misty. Like they used to be, like they could have been..." Ash inhaled, then exhaled once more; kissing her stiff hand, and setting it down before standing up, and slowly slipping away. His heart couldn't take it, how quiet she was.
"...I love you, Mist. As a friend, a best friend and as everything more." his voice hiccuped while he neared the door, taking one last look at her while he nodded very solemnly.
"...Goodbye, Misty."
XOX
The hardest part of goodbyes was not saying them, it was that short moment afterwards when the realization that another goodbye would never be shared again; another hello would never take its place, and that feeling of nothingness would never fade away. It wasn't a beautiful goodbye, and it was far from temporary. It was a permanent situation he would never grow out of and so while he sat with pikachu on the metal bench outside of the hospital, he reflected for what felt like hours. On his own life, her life, on his adventures, her adventures; on everything and anything he could remember. Ash didn't want to forget her face or her smile, or the genuine warmth she radiated. He didn't want to forget her, and yet, already he was forgetting the sound of her voice.
Naturally, Ash did the only thing he could think of to hear it again; he flipped on his phone, quickly moving to his voicemail application, and pressed the saved information. The personal files he would never tell anyone he saved before, which were now a godsend.
"Hey...uhh, Ash. I just.. well, I'm not sure how to start this..." he turned it off after that, knowing her messages started awkward, then the longer she realized he was intentionally ignoring her, the more angry they became. He didn't want to think about that right now.
"Wanted to say congratulations for your recent victory, your mom told me...uh, yeah. Bye."
A click followed, and he moved to the next one, cursing himself for never calling her back. He was so scared back then—Ash wasn't good at dealing with rejection, and Misty was the first girl to ever reject him, and she was suddenly getting married, and...oh boy, if he only knew then what he knew now, things would be different.
He would be different.
Never give up your life for mine. She swore at him; and while it was his own representation of Misty projected from his imagination, she felt so real.
A nightmare—no, it was a wonderful dream, one he would have given any amount of money in the world to see again—to hear her voice, see her smile. But that wasn't fair; he knew many people that felt the same way as he did, including the small mouse that wept on Ash's lap. During his confession, the mouse stayed quiet, at the door; but listened to every note, every beat, and it wept. Pikachu, even with pokemon, could never near a dying body, and so Ash stroked his fur reassuringly.
"I'm sorry, pikachu."
"Chaaaa." The mouse croaked, ears flat while Ash stroked the edges of his fur with his own tears dampening his eyes.
"I don't know how we're going to do it without her. She's been a pain in my ass for as long as I can remember." He chuckled, looking down at pikachu while resting his head against the metal railing ahead of him. He felt sick again, like he would puke, but strangely calm for someone in his situation.
"God do I know it." Brock announced, approaching Ash, who sat on a bench with a cup of coffee. Ash shook his head in response, though, so the older male placed it between them.
"You know she called me last week," Brock muttered, pursing his lips while taking a sip of water. "I was in class, and told her I was busy and would call her the next day—I never did."
Ash offered a weak smile, suddenly very thirsty. He took the steaming coffee from the bench and sniffed. His stomach was still weak from the period of starving himself, and his body was still damaged from his time out.
"I'm sure she didn't hold it against you."
"But how do you know that? What if she thought I hated her?" Brock questioned, sniffling. While Ash still had an endless supply of tears to cry, Brock was cried out; they simply clung to the corners of his eye now.
"I...just wish we could go back to how things were when we were kids, you know? Maybe things could have been different."
Ash smiled at that, and nodded his head very slowly. "I don't think so. We can't know what the future will hold."
"But we can make better decisions!" Brock snapped, shoulders shuddering while he pinched the bridge of his nose, and Ash finally accepted, and acknowledged how deep their bonds ran. Ash wasn't the only one hurting—and he abandoned his mom, and friends, who were clearly as devastated as he was. He wasn't even sure if anyone other than the three of them knew—he never asked.
"It's not fair! She didn't deserve this, Ash!"
Unknowingly, Ash pat Brock's upper back and smiled at his friend. "Nobody does, Brock, nobody does."
"I just want her to open her eyes, scream at us that she had us fooled, you know? Make a big joke; make a lesson out of it that we shouldn't have been such assholes, Ash." Brock was sobbing now, though few tears fell from his eyes while he banged his head on the metal bar. Pikachu joined him, cuddling into his lap and patting him while Ash gripped the metal bench.
"It wasn't just our fault, you know. She made her own decisions, too." Ash mumbled. "She was an adult, she knew what she was doing... it's just unfortunate this happened—least, I think she would have said something like that." Ash quickly covered up his sentiments with a sip of black coffee that made his hair stand on end. He couldn't imagine Brock ever intentionally being mean to Misty, more than likely, Brock was just taking the situation to heart, blaming himself seemed natural.
"...But she was happy, you know?" Ash offered, watching Brock's complete distress while he continued with a shrug of his shoulders. "...maybe not always, but the bad days weren't everyday; I mean, look, she became a water pokemon master, and her reputation at the gym was phenomenal—and even if the last week, or month were hard... It couldn't have been all bad, or she would have done something about it, right?"
Brock stared at him, biting his lower lip with his face scrunched up ugly and throat closing with a lump. "You think so?"
"She was a strong gir—woman. If something was wrong, she would have fixed it." Ash assured him with a strong nod.
"For someone who was on terrible terms with her, you sure know her pretty well." Brock said calmly, swiping at his eyes. Ash smiled weakly and looked away with a passing sigh. The wind tickled his nose and a very sad smile fell over his lips.
"We've always had that in common." he said, knowing Misty had the same unfortunate Ash-translator. Brock sat up the best that he could, his shoulders were still slumped, his appearance still trashed, but he looked forward regardless.
"I'm sorry, listen to me complain—I can't imagine how you feel, Ash."
"Like getting stabbed?" Ash asked sarcastically, "or like being split down the center?" he nudged Brock, and set the vile coffee onto the concrete below and shook his head.
"Its hard for all of us."
"...I haven't even called anyone else yet—I don't know how to."
"Hey," Ash said optimistically. "Maybe we won't have to?" He smiled, though, it was clear that Brock didn't share the blind optimism.
"Have you said your goodbyes?" Brock managed, and Ash bit the inside of his cheek and nodded.
"...Yeah."
"You know, I'm sure you two would have made up. She said she was still furious with you at times, but she still always talked about your accomplishments. You both had that in common, too." Brock muttered and Ash scoffed in response.
"Yeah, I figured it was something like that." Ash looked down while he spoke and kicked his bare feet against the concrete quietly. The wind picked up, and Ash inhaled. Misty would never sit through another Cerulean autumn again, she would never feel the wind on her skin, or the chill of a breeze up her back.
"...pika..." the mouse whined for Ash while the raven-haired man glared seriously at Brock.
"I had a dream that I saved her, you know? Xerneas appeared and, man, I can't believe I thought it was real." Ash exhaled, grabbing the railing in front of him.
Brock smiled boldly. "I haven't dreamed that I've saved her, but I've had a lot of dreams where this whole day was a nightmare. That I wake up on my couch and this never happened; and when I race to the phone to call Misty, it's 3:00am, and she yells at me for waking her up so late."
Ash laughed honestly at that, and smiled while looking at the rose bushes below. "Glad I'm not the only one going crazy."
"I think we all go a little crazy sometimes."
Again, a long pause formed between them, and Ash sighed, leaning against his hands and dipping his face low so Brock couldn't see him.
"She once said everything happens for a reason." Brock choked on his tears, salty drops falling down his cheek while he shuddered violently. "But I can't see a reason for this! she should be sitting here with us, making jokes and fighting with you—and man, how did it get so bad?"
Ash wasn't sure what to say, only that his own tears finally overflowed, pouring like waterfalls from his eyes while his knuckles turned while from his grip on the bench.
"It's okay, Brock." Ash lied, grabbing his friends back and gripping his shirt while Brock crumpled into his knees and Ash looked up at the blue sky, recalling all the times it was just the three of them and the open road. What he would give for...
The doors flung open from the hospital, and both Ash and Brock turned to face Delia who had fresh streaks of tears down her cheeks, and a brutally pained expression on her face and Ash's heart sunk.
No. Not today.
Author's Note:
Originally, the flashback was after the actual story—but I wasn't sure about fluidity, so I put it back at the top; but I felt like it was important to bring some 'hindsight' into Misty's sort of explanation to Ash that everything happens for a reason.
ANYWHO. I'M JUST GOING TO BE OVER HERE, CRYING.
DON'T MIND ME.