Rating: Upped to K+ for language at this point. Will be increased to T later.

Age: This chapter is the beginning of part II, at which point a large time lapse occurs. Misty is now sixteen.

A/N: Many thanks to C'sMelody, primarily for putting up with my shit and switching to talking about this story when we were actually having a meaningful conversation about world politics. Priorities. I'm so needy.

Part II: The Verdancy of Early Spring

All in Good Fun

"The past is a ghost, the future is dream, and all we ever have is now."

–Bill Cosby*

Misty wiped the sweat off her brow grimacing at the sensation as it caused her eyes to water against her will. Unpleasant. Something that had always appealed to her about swimming was the complete lack of sweat. Not that sweating was the worst fate she could face—she certainly handled it better than her sisters did—but come on, nobody liked sweating. And she had to admit that it had been forever since she had sweated this much and, in all fairness, she hadn't been expecting it.

Then again, the Gym wasn't usually this hot. Or this God-forsakenly humid.

There hadn't been a challenger in days. And then in waltzes this experienced Trainer from Johto with her Typhlosion, looking to take on the Indigo League after battling respectably in the Silver Conference.

Damn Fire Pokémon. Misty always hated it most when a Trainer came in with a Fire Type Pokémon. Yeah, Electric and Grass were challenging for her Pokémon every time, but she was used to them. She expected them and trained accordingly. Easy peasy. Well, usually.

One would assume that Fire Pokémon were no problem for a Water Gym, especially with the added factor of a nearly fully aquatic field. But nine times out of ten, when a Trainer challenged her with a Fire Type, that meant that they had a trick up their sleeve and Misty had to prepare to be out-maneuvered, Type advantage or no. No one—youngsters with a Charmander notwithstanding—would pit a Fire Pokémon against a Water Gym without a plan.

The fact that those plans tended to include evaporating the pool certainly didn't help matters.

Of course, she still usually did win. But it was always a hassle and a half to get there.

Right now the pool was about half as high as usual and Misty kind of wished that she hadn't chosen a Pokémon that was essentially useless out of water. Sure, Frillish could levitate out of the water, but that took a lot of energy that she needed for the Battle, and it dehydrated quickly to boot. And it was definitely its strongest when completely submerged.

Still, Frillish was her ace. He could beat a Fire Type any day. Even this fully Evolved Typhlosion.

That didn't mean that it wouldn't be hard, though.

Typhlosion had the cute little trick of being able to heat the air around it, evaporating the pool without even having to fire an Attack and using very little energy. Definitely one of those pre-planned strategies.

Currently the Typhlosion was panting on its platform and Frillish was hiding as deep underwater as he could for a breather himself. Fortunately, not many of Typhlosion's Attacks could penetrate far underwater—they only evaporated it, not that Misty desired that outcome either—and Frillish's blue color was keeping him mostly out of sight.

Misty peeled her hair off of her sticky neck and her grimace twisted into a smirk. It had been tough, and mildly miserable given the heat, but she was about to win; she was sure of it. "Frillish, use Water Pulse! And aim for its back!"

"Typhlosion, light your back so that the water that hits will evaporate!"

Ugh, more humidity.

No, not if she had anything to say about it. "Frillish, you know what to do!"

Frillish popped out of the water, its body becoming enveloped in dark energy. Not a moment after Typhlosion's fire collar was lit it winked out, leaving nothing but thin wisps of smoke. The dark energy quickly faded from Frillish's body and it let out a concentrated stream of water, aiming for the spots from which the fire had lit.

Those spots were the hottest part of its body, charging its flame ability almost like an organ. Typhlosion's ability to heat the air throughout the Battle had created heat waves in the air, combining with the steam to make aiming a difficult task. Now that it was low in energy, she had her perfect window. Typhlosion let out a cry of pain once the Attack hit and Misty knew that it was over. Both Pokémon had suffered a lot of damage—as had her pool—so she knew that there would be no coming back from that move.

And she was right. The Typhlosion fell forward on the platform, rocking it in the water at the force. Frillish, for his part, fell back into the water, far less elegantly than he would have if he weren't so exhausted. He trod water to the best of his ability, clearly fighting for consciousness while the ref focused on the fallen Typhlosion.

The green flag lowered ten seconds later. "Typhlosion is unable to Battle. The Gym Leader, Misty Waterflower, is the winner!"

Misty quickly returned Frillish into his 'Ball and thanked him for a job well done. It had been a two-on-two match, but Misty's Staryu had been taken out surprisingly quickly by this admittedly talented Trainer, leaving the match almost entirely up to Frillish. He deserved a good rest.

After clipping Frillish's 'Ball to her 'Belt, Misty approached the Trainer. She was a little older than many of the Trainers that challenged the Gym, older than Misty herself—and it showed in her experience. "That was a fantastic Battle," Misty said, meaning every word. "You should be very proud of yourself, and your Typhlosion especially, for doing so well on a Water field."

The woman smiled gratefully, gracious in her defeat. "Thanks, I just never expected a Ghost Type," the woman said. "They're tricky."

Misty smiled. "Believe me, I know."

"And they're so hard to train," the woman continued as Misty ushered her out of the Gym. "You're clearly a phenomenal Trainer."

Misty shrugged. "Training Ghost Types has come naturally to me since I was young," she said vaguely.

"Then why isn't this a Ghost Gym?"

"Water Types are my first love," Misty replied with a smile. "Not to mention the fact that the Gym being Water-based was my mother's legacy."

The woman gave Misty that familiar sympathetic smile. "Well then, you and your sisters are doing a wonderful job living it out."

"Thank you." Misty gave a slight bow of her head in gratitude.

They reached the door and the woman made for her way out. "I know you're going to do great things."

Just like her mom. Misty knew that was the unspoken end of the sentence. A little tingle of warmth ignited in her belly. "Thank you."

After the Gym Battle was the perfect opportunity for Misty to clean the Gym. No, she hadn't planned on doing it and it would be a bore and a bear, but the humidity made everything so damp that grime would clean right up. So it was best she do it now.

Until she heard the doorbell ring.

Misty's head darted up from its focused gaze on the floor. Her interview! She hurriedly pushed herself off of her hands and knees and made a mad dash—or rather a carefully trod dash; the floor was still quite wet and she was barefoot—out of the Gym.

"Daisy! Lily! Violet!" Misty called as she tore off the clothes she was wearing, running up the stairs. "Can you get that and stall? I need to clean up!"

No time to wait for an answer. She hopped into the shower, doing her best to avoid getting her hair wet. It needed to be washed, but she didn't have time to let it dry again. She was going to have to blow-dry it a little as it was and even that was asking for time she didn't have.

After flying out of the shower she threw on the clothes that, thankfully, she had laid out before, blow-dried her hair, swiped on her makeup essentials—mascara, gloss, and blush—and darted back downstairs.

Whew, only about five minutes. That had to be some kind of record.

When she made her way to the lobby, walking calmly and trying to catch her breath, she saw Daisy talking to DJ Mary. Thank God she had listened.

"Misty, there you are!" DJ Mary said, turning to her. Daisy took her exit when the attention was no longer on her, catching Misty's eye contact and a grateful smile before going back the way Misty had come.

"Mary, so glad you're here," Misty said, hiding the deep breaths she was taking through her nose. "Let me show you to the living room."

Mary settled herself on the gray couch, flanked symmetrically by geometrically patterned arm chairs, placing her papers on the black coffee table in front of her. "This room is beautiful. It looks hardly lived in."

Misty looked around. Her sisters had been going for a chic, modern look when they had designed this room. Everything was angular and somewhere between black and white. Violet had gone through an interior design phase and she said that it had contrast to the color and waves of the rest of the Gym. Or something like that. "Yeah, the truth is that we don't spend a lot of time in this room," Misty said with a chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Shame," Mary said with a shake of her head. "Okay, so you know how this works. Here's my recorder," Mary flipped on the small black device, placing it on the table, "and anything you don't want me to use, you just say: off the record. Good?"

"Great," Misty answered, sitting up straight and crossing her legs at the ankle.

"So, how long have you been the official Leader of the Cerulean Gym?"

"About four years," Misty said solidly. "For two years before that it was equal responsibility between me and my sisters."

"Speaking of your sisters," Mary started as she opened her notebook, "it seems battling has taken a backseat for them to things more focused towards the entertainment business, like modeling and commercials. What are your thoughts on this?"

Misty smiled tightly, clasping her hands together. "Well, I love being the Gym Leader, so I have no qualms against them going after their dreams. In fact, I fully support it."

"But you are fairly young for a Gym Leader—only sixteen—and the youngest in all of Kanto. It seems like a lot of responsibility for you to handle on your own, especially when you first started. Do you think your sisters should have left you on your own when you were that young?"

No. In all honesty, maybe they shouldn't have left a twelve-year-old in charge. "It would be one thing if they had been the Gym Leaders and then one day decided that I should do it and left me. But they didn't. We eased through the transition over years, which was really great of them."

"Very true," Mary said. "And this Gym has become one of the most renowned since you've taken over, so perhaps you were more suited for it anyway."

Misty smiled, but her eyes stayed expressionless. "Perhaps. But my sisters did a great job when they were in charge and almost everything I know I learned from them."

"It seems you think very highly of your sisters," Mary said with a kind smile.

"Yes. They're beautiful inside and out," Misty said with practiced ease, hardly feeling the words as they left her lips.

"Okay, so let's move onto your Pokémon." Thank God. "Everyone knows that you're a Water Pokémon Trainer. But your star Pokémon appears to be your Frillish, a dual Water and Ghost Type. This strikes many as unusual; do you find it strange?"

"A Gym Leader's star Pokémon is often a surprise," Misty said easily, glad for the change in subject. "And while I love all of my Pokémon equally and will use any one of them in any given match, I know that I can usually count on Frillish to give us that extra advantage."

"Mhmm," Mary hummed, looking down at her notebook. "But what strikes most challengers as odd is how much you lean into the Ghost Typing, rather than the Water. Can you explain that?"

"It's what Frillish offers that is different. I wouldn't train Frillish the same as I would train my Staryu or any other Pokémon."

"Well, since you handle the Typing so well, would you consider catching and using a non-Water Pokémon? Or have you already?"

"No," Misty said, carefully choosing her words, "I have never caught a non-Water Pokémon. I only own Water Types."

"Pity," Mary said with a shake of her head. "I'd like to see how you would be with a pure Ghost Type."

Misty laughed nervously. "Yeah, that would be something, wouldn't it?" Again, her hand went to the back of her neck, catching the hair that was there and pulling it slightly between her knuckles, embracing the slight tug of pain keeping her present. She couldn't wait for this interview to be over.

Misty practically leapt out of the house as soon as the interview was over. Yes, it was vital that she bought PokéChow today—she'd told her sisters to do so the day before when she noticed how low they were, but they had forgotten—but it was also such a relief to be out of the house. She knew that they hadn't meant to forget, rather they just didn't think like that. And Misty didn't like to stir up trouble with them, at least not all the time. As much as a good argument could be fun occasionally, it just wasn't the same when it was three on one.

So instead of making a big deal out of nothing, she chose to go the other way. Flight instead of fight. She had done it so much over the years that simply stepping out of the Gym always made a metaphorical weight lift off her shoulders, regardless of if she had had a bad interaction with her sisters prior to that or not.

Most people would find every day, Sisyphean tasks tiresome and nothing more than a chore, but Misty took comfort in them. It was true that they were a sharp contrast to battling, the other half of her job—and obviously the duller of the two—but she had decided to enjoy them a long time ago, lest she go crazy.

And that was how she was making her way down the streets of Cerulean to the local store, wheeling along a dolly. She would have loved to be able to make homemade food for her Pokémon, but she simply had too many species and not nearly enough time.

That and she had been told in the past that her culinary skills weren't exactly stellar…

No, this was definitely the best way to go for her lifestyle and for the sake of her Pokémon. Besides, based on the feedback from her Pokémon, this particular store had the best food. It kept them happy and healthy, so Misty wouldn't complain.

She opened the glass door, which greeted her with a ding, and made for the exact aisles where the foods were. She went about getting what she needed and made her way to the counter. The clerk smiled at her. "Heya, Misty, how's life?"

Misty smiled as she pulled out her wallet. "Pretty okay, Mr. Samon, and how are you?"

"Great! I actually saw a show of your sisters' yesterday and it was magnificent!"

Misty kept the smile to her face, albeit with a touch more effort than before. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I always enjoy your sisters' shows. Just beautiful."

"Yeah, so I hear."

Misty took her bags and left the store quicker than usual. Yes, the shows were beautiful. Yes, her sisters were actually very talented in the water and she had always admired them for it.

Envied them for it.

Blah, blah, blah, thanks for the reminder, Mr. Samon. She slowed down her pace once she left the store, taking joy in perusing the window displays of all of the lovely shops. With the rhythm of her comfortable pace, she went through the things that she had trained herself to remember at times like these. She could swim faster than them. And they had even told her that she was the better battler. That was enough—more than enough.

As she walked, she passed by a person with a noticeable glow around their body. She carefully kept her eyes trained forward, eager to get back to the Gym before feeding time—not in the mood for any interruptions. Fortunately, the person walked right past, and Misty gave a slight smirk as a shallow sense of victory filled her. Victory as though she had just pulled a trick over someone and they had no clue.

Not a moment later, she saw a beautifully designed poster for the water show from the day before. Come see the three Sensational Sisters! Misty frowned, taking down the poster to recycle.

Yeah, life was pretty okay.

But that didn't mean that Noir wasn't going to hear all about it as soon as she got home.

Misty dropped off the PokéChow in their respective bins. Organized by each Pokémon in the same order that their aquariums were in—but far away so no Pokémon could get into them for a sneaky midnight snack. Because a midnight snack for a Gyarados is more expensive than most.

After hauling all of those heavy bags—which took multiple cartloads—all she needed was to lean back, relax…

"Hey, Misty, like, what's that on your back?"

Misty froze, shivers going down her spine as she suddenly felt a telltale tickle on her back. The tickle of something creepy, something crawly, something…disgusting. She screamed, smacking wildly at her back as she ran in no particular direction, just away.

Meanwhile, Misty's sisters were doubled over in laughter. "Like, don't let the Spinarak get you," Violet called, wriggling her fingers at Misty as she made the humiliating walk back to where her sisters were.

"Sorry, little sister," Lily apologized—though she didn't sound particularly repentant—while wiping tears from her eyes. "You know that we have to do that to you every once in a while."

Misty flushed, her face turning red with embarrassment. "No," she said between gritted teeth, "you really don't."

"Oh, come on, Misty, have a sense of humor," Daisy trilled. "It's all in good fun."

"And since just telling you ghost stories doesn't work on you anymore, we have to get creative," Violet chimed in.

"How nice of you to mix it up," Misty said dryly, her adrenaline coming down and her sarcasm replacing it.

"Isn't it?" the three girls chorused, all smiling and looking pleased with themselves.

"Misty, it's because we love you," Daisy said, coming up behind Misty and placing a hand on her shoulder. The surprising touch made shivers go down Misty's spine again now that her senses were on edge, and she hoped to Lugia that Daisy didn't feel it. "You may be all grown up, but you're still our little sister."

Who knew that sisterly love could be so excruciating?

Misty gave them a half-hearted smile before rolling her eyes and turning on her heel. She figured it would be best to take her leave before they could get any more wise ideas.

"Don't worry, we'll think of something new for next time!" Violet called out behind her.

Great. She was so looking forward to that.

"Wait, Misty!" Lily called out as Misty made to leave the room. "Don't be mad. Here, look at what we got you when we went shopping!"

Misty opened a square bag and found a turquoise two-piece bathing suit. A bikini of the "leaving little to the imagination" persuasion. Still, it was nice, and it was the color that brought out the green of her eyes.

"We know that you usually like to use a one-piece in the pool," Daisy stated, "but this is for, like, if you ever want to go to the beach, or something."

"Thanks, guys," Misty said, touched by the gesture.

"Anyway," Daisy continued, though this time her eyes were darting hesitantly at her partners in crime, "we kinda just wanted to, like, lighten the mood."

That was suspicious. When were her sisters ever not in a light mood? Hell, they were so light sometimes you thought their heads might just up and float away. "Why? What's up?"

In practiced unison, the three tilted their heads and furrowed their eyebrows. "Oh, Misty. You don't remember?" Lily asked.

Misty narrowed her eyes, not appreciating the patronizing tone; especially from one of her sisters. "Remember what?" she asked carefully.

"Misty," Daisy put a caring hand on Misty's shoulder, "today's the tenth anniversary of Mom's death."

"Oh," was all Misty could say, suddenly very disconnected.

"Are you okay?" Daisy asked, giving her a little shake.

"Yeah," Misty said reflexively, blinking her eyes a couple of times. "Fine. Totally fine."

"So we're gonna go visit her," Violet said, pulling out a beautiful, professionally arranged bouquet of flowers.

Of course they were. That was what they did every year. The bouquet of perfect lilies, daisies, and violets, interspersed with baby's breath—to represent Misty—even looked the same as years past.

And just like every other year, Misty didn't want to go.

But with a sigh, and a solid gaze to the ever-comforting floor she said anyway, "Okay, let's go."

Misty maintained a subtle distance behind her sisters as soon as they left the house in their small cortege. It made it easier to hide the fact that there was an addition to their group, glowing and floating behind them.

"It's all in good fun," Misty muttered, imitating Daisy's high-pitched voice quietly. "You know, I blame you for this."

Okay, it was an unfair accusation. But life was unfair, so it was only fair to make unfair accusations once in a while, wasn't it?

Misty had her eyes narrowed at Noir, who was giving her a less-than-amused face in response.

"They never would have started with the bugs if it weren't for you."

That, on the other hand, was fair. With a ghost as your best friend it didn't take long to lose any childhood fear of ghost stories. Why Misty's sisters had decided to shift over to bug stories instead to keep her up at night with, however, Misty had no idea. Honestly, if it hadn't been for a childhood of her sisters taunting her with bugs, she doubted that they would affect her the way they did today.

Misty shivered, images of various bugs flying through her mind's eye, tainting the already dark funeral march. She turned to look directly at Noir, something she usually avoided when they weren't alone, focusing her vision on her as best she could until the bugs scurried out of her mind's eye. Noir made a face as though to ask if Misty was alright. In turn, Misty offered a half-smile. "It's all good. Better to be afraid of bugs than ghosts, I guess, right?"

Noir smiled. That was very true.

"You still with us, Misty?" Daisy called out, not even looking back.

"Yep!" Misty called out, raising her voice, her pitch going with it so she sounded almost like an echo of Daisy.

Noir gave her an amused look, the tone clearly not having missed her.

"Oh, shut up," Misty muttered.

The fresh silence quickly became stifling as the too-familiar path took over Misty's mind. They were approaching the graveyard, and rapidly. A shiver immediately wracked through her body, leaving her holding her bare arms, rubbing the gooseflesh away. She wasn't afraid, just extraordinarily uncomfortable. Why a graveyard? And why did they always have to go? Couldn't they just do something at home? Her sisters knew how much she hated graveyards…

"Okay, we're here," Lily announced, as though it wasn't obvious, making for the gate in the middle of the low, white fence. It was just for looks; the average person could step right over it if they just hopped a little bit—not to even taking in account the fact that the Waterflowers were all taller than average with legs for miles. But no one likes an open graveyard, so a cheap little fence provided an easy solution.

It didn't ease Misty's mind though. Because while a little fence could make the small plot seem like just another piece of scenery, discreetly hiding all the unsightly tombstones, they couldn't hide what was bothering Misty.

Because if walls couldn't stop ghosts, then a gate certainly couldn't.

It was a small graveyard, thank God, but on this particular afternoon, Misty immediately counted no less than a dozen ghosts either staring at their own tombstone in dazed confusion, crying over a loved one, or any one of a number of other activities she had seen more than once. But beyond that, she didn't look at them. Because she knew that the second she made eye contact with them, she would be found out. And that was the very last thing that she wanted. So, as usual, any person with that tell-tale glow around them was pushed out of mind, and she went to go join her sisters, trying her best to belong with them.

They had actually managed to gain quite a distance on her while she had hesitated by the gate. Misty quickened her pace, trying her best to catch up because the truth was that she didn't know where she was going. She never paid too much attention to which particular plot was the final resting place for her late mother; she was always too distracted whenever they came. But her sisters seemed to know by heart, so she went along with them.

Now that she was fully in stride with her sisters, she felt Noir drifting from them. This was for Misty's own good, she knew, but it did take away the presence of comfort that Noir never failed to bring her. But a Ghost Pokémon hanging around a human while glowing and presumably invisible would only draw attention to her; something they both knew that she didn't want.

"Here it is," Violet said, giving a little sniffle as she laid down the bouquet in front of the cold, marble headstone.

Misty hardly heard her, though. For Misty, Violet had been completely drowned by the song of the ghosts. Ghosts in a graveyard were unlike most of the other's that Misty had met, in that they were in a state of profound sadness—as most live humans were when they were in a graveyard. This sadness led people to primal sounds of grief, escaping their bodies with no accord for how they sounded. It felt like a universal elegy for all who had come to rest in this dark corner of Cerulean.

"Misty, do you want to say anything to her?" Daisy asked.

Misty realized she had fallen into a trance, staring at the less-than-comforting image of her mother's epitaph. Her sisters must have already spoken their words; laid out what life was so far in a couple of sentences. They were much more familiar with this than Misty was, after all.

"Uh, not really," Misty said, knowing that it would make her sound callous, but she honestly didn't care. All three sisters turned their eyes on her, making Misty shrink. "Why don't we just go?"

"Okay," Daisy said, stretching the diphthong, as if trying to fit in a paragraph of subtext. "Let's go."

With relief washing over her, Misty led the group, knowing the way out much better than the way in. So what if her sisters thought it was insensitive of her? They didn't understand. Besides, the only person who mattered in this scenario was her mother, not her sisters.

And Misty had a feeling she would be seeing her soon enough.

A/N: *Just a brief acknowledgement that, yes, Bill Cosby is the scum of the earth, but I liked the quote, so I used it anyway. But in no way is he at all a decent person. He is the worst.

Okay, ehrm, pleasantries aside, I hope you liked this chapter!