Small moment of embarrassment for Ash ^^. A well-worn cliché in transformation stories (Case Closed), but one I always found very amusing, so I couldn't resist writing a bit about it.
As for the last part of the chapter, I know it sounds like the Realuse version, but because I also read the interview with the original creator of the anime, and I think it's a real shame that it was never used more to develop Ash's character - besides, in another interview it was said (from memory) that they would bring in Ash's father the day they needed to develop our hero... an idea that was never realized, but which leaves fans free to imagine their own interpretation of Ash's experience of abandonment and his relationship with his father.
A heady, lingering menthe scent
Serena's lips ravished the last drops of the drink as her eyes glided over the enamel horizon. He was asleep, facing her, not hiding. And those terrifying features, so familiar again. The little Charmander's exhaustion having exceeded his strength, the soft grunts accompanied by the flames of a Charmeleon angered by his dreams, the too-weak tail flame of her Charizard. Sweet and warm, but the trainer could only sense the bitterness. Leaving the cup behind, she approached the dragon, stroking his head and murmuring:
"Your meal is ready."
For a long time, in fact, but Serena had neither the desire nor the courage to wake him. But he had to eat, regain his strength, and he might as well do it before the food got cold for good. The shapeshifter moved his head, pretending to be awake for a few seconds before resting his cheek against the palm of his trainer's hand. His smile. The smile the dragon seemed to have stolen from a certain trainer.
"Cha," he breathed in relief.
Serena stood up, her cheeks burning as her fingers brushed the ribbon on her wrist. She hurried upstairs and locked herself in the bathroom to splash some water on her face. The heat dissipated and with it the few colors that had brought the pale skin back to life.
The water disappeared with a horrible sucking sound, washing away the girl's reflection. But above the sink, in the mirror, her image watched her. What Serena had perceived in the moving wave, she had to fix on the inert surface. The dark circles under her eyes, her badly combed hair, her sunken cheeks, her face still lifeless as emotions of surprise and anger at herself stirred within her. She had neglected herself, she knew, but it was only now that she realized it.
"No wonder they were all worried when they saw me like this," she breathed.
Locked in the shower stall, she cleaned the last grains of sand from her hair, soaping her skin as if she wanted to rip it off. Get back to normal, reassure them, she wanted to... Her eyes drifted to her shoulder. I said I didn't care. Under pressure, the wet bandage loosened, slowly sliding off. The curtain dropped for the start of the show, and Serena's stomach twisted. It's just a scar. A sort of brownish, crumpled cardboard that ran from her shoulder up to part of her collarbone. A shoulder. A shoulder incapable of feeling cold, heat, or touch. Her shoulder. Just a scar.
She quickly got out of the cage and grabbed something to cover the wound. But the bandages wouldn't hold, slipping off when she tried to tighten them. She didn't care, it was just a scar, but it wouldn't go away. Serena's eyes widened when she heard a scratch behind the door. It was subtle, as if someone was testing the wood before trying to knock.
"Char..."
"Don't come in!" she shouted.
"Zard?"
Why had he come to her, and what did he want? She'd have a hard time guessing his question without the expression on his face. Fortunately, this one would help her, considering the way the handle turned... Idiot, idiot, idiot, I told you not to come in! panicked Serena, blocking the door.
"What are you doing?" she gasped.
"Chari, char," he explained.
The pressure he exerted didn't let up, and Serena couldn't resist if she didn't find what he wanted quickly. Food? A fight? Whatever it is, you could wait till I'm done!
"Five minutes! Just give me five minutes to put the bandage back on!" she confessed.
He stopped. Serena waited a while for him to start again, but nothing, the dragon remained silent.
"Chariza, Zard."
"You can mime whatever you want when I get out of here, okay?"
"Cha-Ri-Za, Za-Rrd," he articulated each syllable slowly.
She stared at the scar for a few seconds, the mere sight of it enough to make her cringe in disgust.
"Believe me, you'd better wait. My shoulder doesn't look too good."
"Chari."
The girl felt a pang of disgust rise as she explained:
"I told you, it's no big deal. But I don't necessarily want anyone to see it."
"Zar..."
"It will only take a few minutes. Just long enough to... Well, I'll be quick."
When she was sure he would remain still, Serena returned to the bandage. She twisted it around, carefully avoiding looking at the bruised limb. It was easier when the nurse took care of it, crueler too... It repulsed her. Despite her words of encouragement, despite her smile, despite the attention she paid to her care, every time the woman unwrapped the wound, she pulled her head back slightly. If only she had stayed neutral, so that Serena wouldn't have guessed the horrible shape of the wound through this woman... All that remained was to tie the white bandage and she could forget again. As long as she couldn't see it, as long as no one could see it, she could stop thinking about it.
The bandage slipped off and came loose. It wasn't easy to keep it on, but better here than out there. Anyway, my clothes hid it. Besides, when was there a need to expose her shoulders? My stage dress... Serena bit her lip, she'd have to do some sewing before her next contest. What if there were communal dressing rooms? She'd just have to wait for everyone to come out and change, so she wouldn't have to worry. At worst, there would always be the bandage to protect her. It doesn't hold up very well in the water... Well, it wasn't like Serena particularly liked the pool. The ocean too, it's no big deal. True, she could always stay at the beach. And you can get a tan even in a T-shirt. So nothing to worry about. Once her hand regained normal movement, the mark wouldn't be hard to hide. Serena would adapt or deprive herself if necessary. There was nothing to worry about.
"Chari?"
"Not yet," she choked out.
"Chari, char!"
Her eyes stung. But if she cried, he might hear her, and that was out of the question. It took Serena a few seconds to gather her voice, to come up with an idea to keep him occupied.
"Was it good?"
"Zard?"
"What I prepared for you."
"Cha? Zaaard... Chari! Charicha!"
"You didn't touch it," the coordinator understood.
Ash frowned; she could have pretended to believe his little lie. Besides, it was her fault! She hadn't been beside him when he woke up, and if she had ever changed her mind... Eating was the last thing on his mind!
"Go and eat. I just... I'll be fine." She heard the monster's tail snap violently. "Charizard, that's my problem."
"Zard!" he shouted.
"It was my choice! So it's up to me to accept it, even if... It was my mistake!"
On the verge of tears, her heart swelling, her fingernails scratched the mark.
"Zard."
Serena gasped at the simple whisper. Was it... remorse? No, it couldn't be, she must have misunderstood again. She gestured towards the handle before coming to her senses.
"I hate that scar."
The girl froze. Why did he seem to blame himself? To feel guilty?
"I hate it so much and you don't say anything, you act like it doesn't matter. I don't want to. Even if it's to protect me, even if you think you're helping me... Don't accept it."
What he told her was important. And she knew how angry he would be if she didn't try to understand. She fidgeted a little with her napkin, wondering if she was answering correctly, before telling herself that she owed it to herself to be clear on this point anyway:
"I'm the one who told you not to move."
"I know. You accepted to be hurt, to let him hurt you, I hate that too, I think about it every time I look at it, but... I trusted you, do you understand? " Ash's mouth was dry. All that accumulated remorse, all that training to try to forget, all that magma, far from subsiding, was hurting him more than ever. "Trusting you was easier than trying to understand you, to know how you felt, how you were..." He took a deep breath and looked down at his clawed hands. Evolve to save her? Yes, right! If he had metamorphosed, if he had forced himself to change, then it was mainly to make up for his mistake. An avoidable mistake. "If I had made the effort, you wouldn't have had to go through all this. That's why... this scar, it's... it's me who waited. Who was willing to wait. Who would rather wait than hold you back!"
On the other side, Serena had seen nothing of the painful face, nor of the flame that turned red, nor of the torment that whitened the scales. She leaned against the door and noticed how hot it was.
"Why did you come here?"
His regret, his pain, even without words to carry them, Ash had passed them on.
"Why did you wait for me?"
The door warmed further behind her back. I'm breaking records. I already know that, and yet I have to ask you, to be sure.
"Why do you blame yourself?"
"Serena?"
I want to trust you. I want to believe in you. Even if it's high, even if I'm afraid of heights, even if I'd rather stay on the ground a thousand times over. With you, it's only with you that I...
"Charizard... My bandage..."
"Serena!"
She ran her hand over her cheeks, feeling the moisture seeping through them. He must have felt them, the tears flowing.
"I can't do this. I can't do it alone."
She put her hand to his wound, started to turn the handle, stopped. How can he help you if you won't show him? She let go of the wound.
Ash was human.
He remembered that when Serena appeared before him. Ash had wings, a flaming tail, scales, claws, the appearance of a pokemon. Something obvious when she looked at him with her innocent eyes, not suspecting the deception for a moment. Ash was a boy, a young teenager. And this nature hit him much harder than any other. Flames escaped his mouth and licked his already burning cheeks. A towel, all the girl had was a towel! When they had traveled to Kalos together, her friend must have been only an inch taller than him. Only now, in his large reptilian form...
"Charizard? You... You don't look well."
She put her hand to her wound. A simple movement that caused the towel to fall slightly to one side. A hoarse gurgle came from the shapeshifter's throat. It was a plunging, dizzying sight! That face, that body, far more exposed from this angle than if he had been at her level. She took a step forward, the thin fabric following the curve of her leg, stretching as if ready to break. Now Ash regretted it. That he hadn't listened to her, that he hadn't gone downstairs to wait for her to finish... But he had thought that she was already dressed! And what an idea to come out of the bathroom in that outfit!
Why should she be embarrassed in front of her pokemon?
Oh, she'd be embarrassed. When he returned to human form, when she discovered who he really was, this episode would come back to haunt her a hundredfold! Except that for the moment, all she could do was approach him without thinking for a second about putting her clothes back on. Ash only vaguely remembered the rest. It was as if he'd turned his head at the beginning of the movie. He didn't pick up the thread until he was back in the living room, with Braixen and Mrs. Roc staring at him.
"Ash? What's the matter with you again? "
"S-Serena! "
He'd shouted louder than he'd intended, provoking the vixen's curiosity.
"Yes?"
Do you want to know Braixen? I know you're dying to know! Serena, your trainer, she went out in a towel, just a towel, I never asked her to go out in a towel!
"She... She needs help... Your help! For her bandage..."
Have you ever faced the Judgment of Arceus? Ash had, and he could assure you that at that very moment, he would much rather have found himself under the apocalyptic rain of fiery rocks than face the furrowed brow of the vixen. The very ones that said: 'Develop Ash. Tell me what made you run down the stairs like Giratina was after you.'
"Very well," she finally admitted.
Ash held his breath as she left the room, expecting her to suddenly retrace her steps and get to the bottom of it. But clearly she was determined, or pitied, not to look any further.
All these emotions had made him hungry, and it didn't matter that his food was already cold. He took the plate, his stomach eager to begin, but strangely, it was his heart that made itself heard the most. It was beating hard to compete with the gurgling. It was beating fast to prove that he was the happiest. More than anyone else, it wanted to taste Serena's cooking. So it was disappointed when Ash stopped after a few bites. Not that the food was bad, far from it. But his stomach felt rigid, as if it could not relax to accept the food. And no matter how much the others urged him to, the capitulation was already signed. Ash sighed in annoyance and looked to the door where Serena would soon appear. She would be worried if he didn't finish, and he wanted to.
"You have a good trainer," the old woman laughed.
Ash was startled; he'd almost forgotten about the lady sitting on her sofa. She looked at him in silence, her hands clasped on her stick. A good trainer... Serena wouldn't have been his trainer at all if the woman hadn't intervened.
"I'm sorry for attacking you earlier, and if there's anything I can do to thank you..."
"My little one, don't say anything you might regret," she said with a mischievous wink.
Was she going to force him to face her Rhyperior? It was true that you couldn't own such a powerful pokemon without having a passion for fighting. In any case, even if he had to be buried under several kilos of rocks, he didn't think he could blame the grandmother.
"Who are you exactly?"
She couldn't just be an old lady whose only activities were knitting and cleaning.
"Oh, that will bore you."
"But your pokemon, the ease with which you understand things... And even now! I don't even have to mime! "
"You know, if I had to rely on words to understand..." She stood up and walked calmly over to one of the dressers. She pulled out a small picture frame, her dentures showing as she stared at it. "My little sister wasn't very talkative when things went wrong, and she had a tendency to lie about how she really felt. So I learned to know when to give her a hard time." She put down the picture frame and turned to the fake pokemon. "A pokemon rarely lies, so in that sense, you're much easier to understand. Unless you have something to confess, my little one?"
But Ash was already too engrossed in the picture on the dresser to pay any attention to what Mrs. Roc was saying. He grabbed the frame with both hands to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
"We took this picture during his last visit to Hoenn. Do you know her?"
Of course he knew her! And more importantly, he had a better understanding of Rhyperior's power. To get a rise out of the Elite Four member, you need something heavy, really heavy.
"If you don't want to answer..." the old woman took offense at being ignored. "Serena, have you met my little sister?"
Ash craned his neck, noticing his trainer approaching them. Serena glanced over the dragon's arm to study the image before answering:
"I don't think so."
"Still, my little one seemed to know her."
"It wouldn't be the first time. Even when he was Charmander, he knew things I didn't."
"He could have seen her face on television or in a newspaper without you noticing..." the old woman admitted, not without a pout.
As Mrs. Roc spoke, Ash couldn't help but stare at the Kalosian. She smelled freshly shampooed, her hair had regained its shine, and her face was more expressive again, not perfect yet, but a little better than he could tell. She suddenly placed her hand on the site of her wound and grimaced, startling the shapeshifter.
"Ash," he heard hissing behind him.
"Y-Yes?"
Gold Repel! For a trip in peace. Yes, that must have been what the jingle was singing. Ash had never known who could buy such a thing. Gold Repel! Serenity for your travels. But then, he wouldn't have said no to having a little on him. Max Repel! The indispensable partner!
In a bad mood, to say the least. Braixen looked ready to slit his throat with a fang or a claw. But the old broken record that swung in place of Ash's survival instinct allowed him to think of only one thing: They've changed the brand name.
"Tell me, my dear Ash, at what point do you start running when Serena shows you her shoulder?"
"Her shoulder? But... that's not why..."
"Well, she thinks it, idiot! Especially since it was you she asked for help."
It wasn't only his survival instinct that had turned into an old jingle. His words, too, the way he stammered in rhythm.
"I had all the trouble in the world getting her to agree to let me take care of her. And you can thank me for reminding her that you ran away every time she undressed anyway, scar or no scar. If anything, wearing a towel is no different than wearing nothing."
If I told you it was, you'd kill me. And if I told you it wasn't, you'd kill me, too!
"Serena..." he pleaded in a small voice.
She hadn't waited for Ash to ask before she grabbed the vixen's arm and motioned for her not to go any further.
"I'm fine," she assured her.
Braixen clenched her fist before turning to Ash.
"You better get yourself together. And fast!"
Once the argument had died down, Serena quickly noticed the plate that had barely been started.
"You've barely eaten anything," she despaired.
"Don't force him too much," Mrs. Roc intervened. "He's been starving for a while, so too much food at once could make him sick."
The trainer wasn't convinced. What had he eaten? Two bites? Three at the most. It really wasn't enough.
"Break up his meals for a few days and you'll see that he doesn't deprive himself," the lady added.
"Fine... But Charizard, isn't there something you want? Something you want right now...?"
Ash looked away, blushing a little. Actually, there might have been something.
"Your pokepuffs... The ones you make especially for me, with tamato berries."
The ones he'd always refused since his evolution. So much so that Serena had thought his tastes had changed as well. The grunts were easy to understand for Braixen, a little less so for the trainer. So she decided to fetch the basket herself and bring it back to Ash.
"She had made them at the same time as your meal. But since you've been making her think you hate them lately..."
Serena quickly pulled the basket out of the vixen's hands as her two pokemons looked on in bewilderment.
"Braixen, it's nice of you to try, but these pokepuffs... I didn't try any new recipes. I just made them without thinking, out of habit." She froze when he took her hands, forcing her to show him the basket. "Are you sure? Just a few days ago you..."
"Chari," he begged.
She nodded and opened the clasp, revealing the coveted treasure. Ash wasted no time in devouring a pastry under Serena's astonished gaze.
"How do you like it?"
"Cha!" he nodded with a smile.
He took a second, then a third. Slowly, his wings came closer to the girl, as if they wanted to envelop her. But he was too absorbed in each tasty bite to notice, just as he didn't see the approaching hand. But he felt it. Ash screamed in surprise and jerked back, knocking over the basket and all the pokepuffs.
"Charizard! Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry! I know you don't like it, but I thought..."
"Huh huh!" laughed the old lady. "You're not going to give up because of such a small failure?"
"I'm not going to force him either!"
"Serena, you already took Charizard to the pokemon Center for treatment, didn't you?"
The young girl swallowed, thinking she had guessed what the old woman was getting at.
"If I give him time, maybe..."
"He has a lot of work to do to get used to it, necessary he won't succeed unless you decide to invest yourself in it."
Wait, wait, wait! Why are you insisting that Serena touch my wings? the fake pokemon panicked.
"Charrr..."
"Charizard, hold out your wing," the old woman cut in.
You mean now? But... I... Ah! I still haven't got angry with her! I have to be angry with her... or something. As for being angry, Ash would have to take another look at the way he was pressing his back against the wall, the scales on his face alternating between fiery red and pale orange. To think he'd just promised himself he'd make her pay for worrying so much. Only his friend's big blue eyes were slowly making him give up on the idea of any kind of revenge.
"Serena's going to think you're mad at her if you keep this up."
"I am! I'm... I'm mad at her, I'm really mad at her, so there's no way she's going to..."
"Do you really want to see her tears so badly?"
Serena sighed. Did Mrs. Roc really think this was the kind of argument that would change the pokemon's mind? But when she saw the smoke coming out of the monster's nostrils like a steam engine, she realized that he was seriously considering it.
"You know, Charizard, I'm not going to..."
A discreet tap of the cane on her leg stopped her from continuing. The old woman motioned for her to bend down so she could whisper:
"You still find it hard to accept. But maybe it's time to admit how much he cares for you."
Ash knew the granny was lying. But still, wasn't he risking to make her sad? No! He had to make her sad! That's how it was when you sulked... Anyway, he didn't want her to be too sad. Just a little bit, a tiny bit...
"You see," Mrs. Roc giggled when she saw the Kalosian's astonished face.
The dragon stretched his wings. With his head bowed and his scales already quivering with fear, it was clear that he was far from happy with his decision. But he'd come to terms with the fact that even a little was too much.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
He was basically human, so he should be able to control himself better than a real Charizard. It was just a matter of willpower. Still, he preferred to clarify in a trembling voice:
"Slow... Slowly. "
He held his breath as he felt his friend's fingers touch the thin membrane. Pretend it's your arm. Yeah, it shouldn't be complicated... He jerked to the side as his hand slid over the fabric. It was sensitive, very sensitive indeed, and it had just triggered a veritable explosion of emotions in him. He sensed that her host would offer to do it again, and that was out of the question. Already on the verge of imploding, he had to get away from this house and the old lady as fast as possible! He took his friend by the hand, made a detour to the kitchen to fetch the electric brothers and Pancham, then retraced his steps when he noticed that Braixen hadn't followed him.
"Leaving already?" said the grandmother, though her smile betrayed her true thoughts.
"What?" exclaimed Serena.
Her dragon led her back outside, where Sylveon was dozing.
"What's wrong?" Sylveon gasped as they all disembarked.
Ash wasted no time. He crouched down and motioned for his trainer to come up.
"You should rest."
"Charicha!"
"It's okay if we don't make it in time for the Fallarbor contest, there will be others."
Ash looked at the house where Mrs. Roc and her so-called training session were waiting. He stared longingly at Serena, betting everything on this simple request:
"I want to participate."
Serena waddled on the spot. She didn't want her pokemon to overstep his bounds, but to see him so determined...
"Here we go again" the Fox sighed.
"What?" asked Pancham.
"I'm counting on you, Charizard."
"That," Braixen said annoyed.
The mercury crescent was the only element present in this vast nothingness. It overlooked an endless desert, illuminating every grain with its ghostly clarity, and only the withered trees, witnesses to a bygone era, broke the monotony of the landscape. It was a world withdrawn into an eerie silence, content to observe the sinister, misshapen creatures that crossed it.
A trapinch emerged from the white salt, resting its paws on the harsh surface. It stopped dead in its tracks as soon as it heard the ground rumble. It looked out as far as its short neck would allow, and managed to make out the cause of its alarm. The silhouette of a ghost. Its presence weighed down the atmosphere as if it had turned to fiery lead, weighing down its lungs, choking its mind, strangling its senses.
"Remove this skin and come. "
Trapinch listened. Trapkin removed his skin. Trapinch revealed his pink fur. Mew rose. Mew asked:
"What do you want?"
The creature raised its beak, revealing its empty eye sockets in the moonlight. Its pearly white, toga-like wings covered its emerald body, hiding the monster on its torso, with only its red eyes visible.
"Come."
What we now called the Desert Ruins was once the Xatu Temple. More than three thousand years ago, and yet Mew had not forgotten. He collided with the waves, the ones that always followed xatus, the ones that had become uncontrollable without their master's gaze to hold them. A torrent now. His head spun, his psychic powers spun, following the curve imposed by time itself.
"You shouldn't be here," the pink pokemon hissed in a pained voice.
Blind Xatu. The raging waves should have carried him away by now, tossing him between spaces, unable to reach the shore.
"Don't steal Xatu's words. Use your own."
Mew's hair bristled. Xatu was clever, but did he think he hadn't noticed? This human turned puppet, surrounded by Xatu's psyche, this bait that had attracted the mask wearer. He had trapped him to this temple, while Mew remained outside, unable to see because of the waves.
"What did you want?"
"Why is Mew following them? Xatu searched for an answer. The Xatu Temple had allowed these humans to search for several days. So, as always, Xatu demanded retribution from its visitors."
"And to think, these are the same humans who dream of reaching Groudon," Mew sighed. "But wouldn't it have been easier to ask me directly?"
The pokemon raised his gaping holes to the ceiling of his former home. He waited, wings outstretched, as if the divine word would come and touch him.
"Your arrival in Xatu's home is all that Xatu could ask of you. That's why Xatu had to find the answers for itself. "
A new wave. It was intoxicating, dizzying, exhilarating. Mew landed on the ground, ready to use all his strength to escape if necessary.
"The ones you followed. Xatu looked around, and right then, they shouldn't have been here, shouldn't have been together. Xatu then tried to look further into this singularity, but only a few days in the past and future corresponded. Only a few days, when even now Xatu admires the temple in its golden age and weeps for the speck of dust it will become. But this incoherence, this limited vision, do you know what memories have surfaced in Xatu's mind?"
"Hard to guess under such pressure," the pokemon squeaked.
"The surprise. Xatu's on your first visit to the temple in the company of those two humans." The empty eye sockets stared at Mew as if they could actually see him. "Xatu looked around as far as its vision would allow: past, present, or future, Mew did not exist. Yet there you were, as close as Xatu could see. An isolated anomaly. Sure, Xatu had seen this kind of phenomenon before. But it was nothing more than trivial and unimportant. And most of all..." The pokemon raised his wing toward the two black holes piercing his face. "Isolated things disappear. But Mew didn't obey. No, even though he's not everywhere, the more time passes, the more visible Mew becomes. The more time passes, the more Mew's past disappears. That's Xatu's problem: because Xatu couldn't look before, Xatu can't look now. "
"I'm sorry I can't entertain you anymore. But perhaps you will find more amusement in my future."
"Future? No. A stagnation, a somnolence, a status quo that doesn't progress. And you should be satisfied with that."
"The prophecy of an oracle?"
"Common sense... Limit the damage of a pokemon that once embraced human emotions."
Mew's mouth tightened, his small fangs showing.
"You can speak. Your eyes... didn't you bend to their will?"
"Mew and Xatu do not have the same role. No matter if Xatu has the values of a human, no matter if he imitates them, no matter if he is subject to their law, Xatu won't change anything. While you..."
Teleport. So that's how it was, he'd rather ignore it, he'd rather trample on this memory of his own making. As he wished, Xatu was still there, Xatu persisted. Alone in his temple, certain of the little monster's disappearance, the bird spread his wings and flew around the stones on the ceiling. Among them was a secret trapdoor leading to the attic. A place meant to protect the Xatus of the temple in case of attack.
"Please forgive me. I didn't keep him as long as I promised."
The long-empty attic was filled with various screens displaying images from surveillance cameras hidden throughout the temple. At the center, the woman who had set everything up smiled, wrapped in her red coat.
"You've already done a lot. Hiding the cameras and me from him, luring him here, preventing that idiot leader from interfering with our search. Without your help, none of this would have been possible."
Xatu bowed. The joy he felt was almost as strong as the waves that would sweep him away again.
"But I didn't think you would accept so easily."
Xatu's face was known for remaining motionless, but the shining eyes on their torsos couldn't hide their emotions.
"The destruction of Atellanes did not exist in any visible future. And yet, its downfall came in a single night. What do you think? What did the people of my city think when they saw me unable to predict such a catastrophe?"
Not being able to look the monster in the eye was a good clue for Courtney.
"The fate of those who fail in their roles."
"Even though I could have shied away, even though there would have been no consequence to my refusal, I accepted it. But Mew..."
"Your refusal would have only doomed your comrades. They would have found you anyway, and the outcome would have been the same. Only the sacrifice would have been greater."
The image of the bird faded. It lowered its head, exhausted from all the energy it had expended clinging to this ancient temple. Courtney grabbed the pokemon's wings and joined them in a prayer she hoped would be heard.
"Will we succeed, Xatu?"
"If only fate were not so prone to error, I could promise you that."
The silence. The pokemon had fallen silent, swept away by a wave too great. Courtney looked down at her empty hands. It would take her a long time to put the equipment away. Maybe she should ask Tabitha and Blaise for help... But they weren't supposed to know she was here, let alone what she was doing. The Admin sighed wearily. The next time her two colleagues called, no matter what they'd found, Maxie would congratulate them and ask them to return to base. As for her...
"Damn cleanup!"
Crying.
The old television was screaming, pokemon flapping on the small screen in the middle of the darkened room. Trainers, battles, his future, his... dream. Ash pressed the remote, the green bars appearing one by one. Saturated, as if coughing violently, the television sputtered with sound. Never loud enough to cover the crying.
He left his sanctuary to find his mother. Sitting at her kitchen table, she stroked the photograph. The photo of her husband, Ash's father, the man who had chosen his dream over hers.
"Did you have a nightmare?" asked Delia. Her voice was always soft when she spoke to him, always loving. And he too loved this woman who worked so hard to raise her son alone, loved his mother who always smiled at him while... Her eyes were red from crying.
She was a trainer with dreams and goals, and yet she had to stay here, live in this godforsaken village. She could have left him at birth, she could have pursued her dreams without worrying about him, she could have accompanied his father, but she hadn't. Ash was grateful to her, Ash knew how lucky he was, but Ash also knew how wrong he was. His classmates sang it to him far too often.
"It's the league now."
"Ash Ketchum, league or no, you should be asleep by now."
If he'd turned up the TV, if he'd waited so long to come downstairs, it was because he'd hoped the door would slam after the crying. That she would leave, that she would finally find the life she deserved without worrying about him.
"I wanted to watch. It was important."
His mother stayed. He did his best to thank her, to keep her out of trouble. He went to the parents of those who were laughing instead of fighting, smiling, helping his mother as best he could. A nice boy, but it wasn't enough, not enough to stop her crying. Ash was clutching his pajama bottoms now, trying to hold back his tears.
"I'm going to be a Pokemon Master, I promise."
And even if he couldn't, at least she would be free. She wouldn't have to worry about this wandering boy anymore, she could finally live her life.
"You know, when you say that..."
The child closed his eyes, begging her not to say it, not to break him forever.
"You remind me of your father."
She picked him up, carried him to his room and tucked him in. When she was gone, Ash turned on the old television, turning up the sound so he could only hear the shouts of encouragement.
You're not leaving. Until I become a Pokemon Master, until I fulfill my dream, you'll stay here and wait for me, just like you wait for dad. Don't worry about me, leave me alone, I don't want you to suffer any more because of me.
The dark-haired boy trembled. His dream on the cathode ray screen, this picture he'd chase all his life, though in truth, more than anything...
I wanted to stay.