A/N: That fact alone that you are reading this is already enough to motivate me. So thank you!
*eyes flutter* But there's uh, a better way of motivating me.
*lowers voice to a whisper* Click that Follow/Fave button, it's free and won't cost you anything.
*whistles away*
Chapter 7: Gonna Bake You Happy
"The project is about Pokémon Anatomy. You will work in groups of six. Each group will create a scale model of your assigned topic, based on the Pokémon we've studied so far. You can use paper mache, modeling clay, wood carving, or any manual method you can think of. Do NOT 3D print your model," the teacher from Class 1-2's PHA explained, her voice carrying authority as she addressed the class.
She grabbed a paper bag from her desk, its contents rustling. "Inside this bag are papers. Take one and pass it along." She handed the bag to the nearest student, and they began distributing the papers. The teacher continued, "Open them and check your group number. When I call your group number, stand up, tell me your names, and I'll announce your group's topic."
As the students went through the motions, the teacher suddenly stopped. She noticed something odd. "One of the groups only has five members. Is anyone absent?"
"That would be Kenny, ma'am," Gary spoke up, his tone neutral. He'd already informed all their teachers about Kenny's suspension. This was the third day of it, and he couldn't blame the teacher for forgetting—she had several classes to manage.
"Oh, right," the teacher muttered, jotting down a quick note on her pad. "You have more than a week to finish this project—eleven days, to be exact. So, I expect all of you to finish it."
:･ﾟ(ꈍᴗꈍ)･ﾟ:
Elsewhere, in the heart of the ruins, a small group of individuals in black clothing walked through the devastation. As they reached a clearing, they boarded a sleek black helicopter. The sound of the rotors whirring to life grew louder by the second, and within moments, the aircraft took to the air. Once inside, the doors sealed shut, and the hum of the blades reduced drastically, thanks to the soundproofing inside. The helicopter soared, leaving behind the isolated, desolate island.
The female of the two individuals seated in the middle row tapped a few buttons and waited for a holographic screen to materialize before them. Her sharp purple eyes and golden blonde hair, styled into playful pigtails, caught the light. Dangling from her ears were triangular pink earrings that swayed gently as she moved. Her uniform—a black, short-sleeved minidress emblazoned with the iconic red 'R' logo on the front—was paired with white gloves, reaching just past her elbows, and thigh-high white boots with matching red stripes. The man beside her, similarly dressed in the standard team uniform, had maroon eyes and short green hair styled into M-shaped bangs. The only difference in his attire was his gloves and boots, which, like hers, bore a red stripe. Both appeared to be in their late teens, exuding an air of quiet authority.
The screen flickered for a moment before a middle-aged man appeared, his features stern and commanding. His black eyes, framed by neat brown hair, glinted with a sharpness that matched the crisp orange business suit he wore.
"Sir!" The two greeted in unison, while the others in the back saluted.
"Cassidy, Batch, report," the man ordered, his voice firm and demanding.
Cassidy's voice remained steady as she responded, "Sir, we've only been able to recover some security footage and a few visual documents. Almost everything has been reduced to ashes. We're now leaving the Orange Archipelago."
The man's scowl deepened, frustration evident in his tone. "I've invested millions in this project, and all I have to show for it is some video recordings?!"
The tension in the helicopter thickened, even though they all knew the outburst wasn't directed at them. Still, no one could suppress a slight flinch at his words. Butch, though, steadied himself and spoke up, "Sir, we've reviewed some of the footage. We've identified the cause of the destruction of the facility… and the death of the researchers."
"Show me," the man commanded. He leaned back in his seat, a beige feline Pokémon curling up on his lap. He absently stroked its head, his fingers brushing over the red gem on its forehead and the tips of its black ears as he waited for the report.
:･ﾟ(ꈍᴗꈍ)･ﾟ:
Ash sat on a bench inside a bustling mall, his head bent low as he scrolled through his phone. He was rereading an article about a fire- and flying-type Pokémon. His casual outfit blended in effortlessly with the weekend crowd. His messy hair was tucked under a red and white hat, adorned with a green triangular symbol. He wore a blue, unbuttoned button-down shirt with yellow linings and white short sleeves, the collar turned up. His light blue jeans were folded at the bottom to match his height, just above a pair of black-and-white running shoes.
"Ash? Geez, I almost didn't recognize you with your hat hiding your hair and face," a familiar voice called out.
Ash looked up, seeing Misty approaching. Her casual outfit consisted of a yellow tank top that revealed her midriff, moss-green denim shorts held up by red suspenders, and red-and-white high-top sneakers. "Hey, Misty," he greeted, shifting over on the bench to make room for her.
Misty slid onto the bench, placing her red string bag on her lap. "Do you have Morrison and Ritchie's numbers?"
"Nope," Ash replied, shaking his head. He glanced at the time on his phone before slipping it back into his brown body bag. They sat in silence, watching people pass by as they waited for the rest of their group. Ash realized, though, that he wasn't particularly close with the other members of his group. Sure, they'd spoken a few times at school, but those were just quick, study-related exchanges, mostly one-liner questions.
Misty's gaze landed on an approaching orange-haired preteen. She crossed her legs and shot him an unimpressed look. "You're late, Morrison. And where's Ritchie? You two are roommates, right?"
Morrison's hair was tied in a ponytail, and his eyebrows were drawn in three thin lines above his black eyes. He had swirl-like marks on his chubby cheeks. His outfit was a pinkish-red and crimson hakama. "Sorry, we went out last night," he said with a sheepish grin. "Ritchie said he couldn't make it. I think he ate something that didn't sit well with him. Don't worry, though. He gave me his contribution to the project."
Misty frowned. "We're already down one member compared to the other groups, and now this? We're at four! Tell Ritchie he's doing the presentation, and we'll handle the model. That way, he can at least contribute somehow." She stood up and then turned to Ash. "Let's go buy the materials." Without waiting for a response, she headed toward her favorite school supply store, the two boys trailing behind her.
Morrison whispered to Ash as they walked. "She's terrifying."
Ash scratched his cheek, chuckling a little. "You think so?"
:･ﾟ(ꈍᴗꈍ)･ﾟ:
"Remember, a perfect macaron should be chewy on the inside and crispy on the outside," a honey-haired girl muttered to herself as she made sure her oven was set to 300 degrees Fahrenheit. While waiting for the macarons to bake, she got to work on the fillings, carefully mixing butter, powdered sugar, vanilla, and heavy cream.
Her hair, tied into a ponytail with a pink ribbon, swayed as she moved around the kitchen. She wasn't fond of getting dirty, and today was no exception. She was being extra careful, not wanting to stain even her pink apron over her short-sleeved purple hoodie and black skirt. Her black knee-high socks and red indoor slippers remained spotless.
"There, done!" The girl's blue eyes sparkled as she admired her work. In front of her was a tray of macarons, their smooth surface, and rounded shape exactly as she had hoped. She placed the tray under a mesh food cover to keep it dust-free, allowing the macarons to dry and lose any remaining moisture.
She took off her apron, folding it neatly before putting it away in a drawer. They should be here any moment now, she thought to herself, suddenly feeling a wave of nervousness. Her cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink as she quickly checked herself over. She felt beads of sweat forming on her back, the fabric of her hooded shirt slightly dampened.
:･ﾟ(ꈍᴗꈍ)･ﾟ:
Ash and Misty climbed the stairs to the third floor and stepped into an open-air corridor, the sudden noise startling a flock of Pidgeys roosting along the railings, causing them to scatter into the sky. Ash heard exaggerated gasps for air behind him, so he turned around to find Morrison bent over, hands on his knees, with white plastic bags dangling from his fingers. Misty, however, just kept walking ahead.
"You okay, Morrison?" Ash called out, raising an eyebrow.
Morrison looked up, eyes squinting at the remaining steps he had to climb. "Yeah, go ahead," he puffed, still catching his breath.
"Just think of this as the summit of many mountains we'll climb as trainers," Ash encouraged, offering a grin as he waited for Morrison to catch up.
With a deep breath, Morrison straightened his back and then, with a burst of energy, sprinted up the stairs. "Yaaaaaa!" he yelled, reaching the top. "I made it! What a great view!" He beamed, staring out at the streets below. In his mind, though, it was more than just a cityscape—it was a grand river flowing through a lush forest.
"Yep," Ash added, squinting to take in the same view, though he wasn't quite as imaginative as Morrison.
"Shhhh!!" Misty shushed them from across the corridor, her finger pressed to her lips in a dramatic gesture. She shot them a glare. "Some neighbors are still sleeping at this hour!" She mouthed the words, only a hissing sound escaping her. With an annoyed roll of her eyes, she motioned for them to hurry and opened a door in front of her.
Ash followed Misty inside, instinctively removing his shoes at the sight of the shoe rack near the wall. His white socks were visible as he placed his sneakers on the nearest rack. Morrison mimicked the action, slipping off his wooden sandals and placing them in a space.
"Wow, this place is way bigger than my dorm room with Ritchie," Morrison marveled, looking around. He took in the spacious two-bedroom apartment and its homely feel. "And they even have their own kitchen!"
"Make yourselves at home," Misty said, gesturing toward the comfy-looking sofas in the living room. She then walked toward the door on the left and knocked, her voice echoing slightly. "I'm back, with Ash and Morrison."
A muffled scramble came from behind the door before a voice responded, "Oh, okay."
Misty turned back to her guests. "Want something to drink?" she asked, but before anyone could answer, her eyes narrowed at Morrison, who had collapsed on the floor, flipping through a women's apparel catalog he'd pulled from a pile of magazines under the coffee table. His bare feet were up on the edge of the table as he giggled at the pages.
"What do you think you're doing, Morrison?!" Misty barked, hands on her hips.
Morrison, unfazed, glanced up and said smugly, "You said to make myself at home."
Misty grabbed the women's apparel catalog out of his hands with a swift motion, just as the door she'd knocked on opened to reveal Serena, now dressed in a pink blouse. "I only said that to be polite! Get your stinky feet off the table! And where's Ash?" she asked, her voice a little sharper than she intended.
"Here," Ash replied, his voice coming from the kitchen. Serena and Misty exchanged a quick look before heading in that direction.
"Misty's in a mood today," Morrison whispered sarcastically under his breath.
Serena and Misty arrived in the kitchen to find Ash standing in front of the open refrigerator.
"Ketchum, close the fridge and get back here!" Misty called out, arms folded across her chest.
Ash winced at the tone of her voice. "Wait, lemme just put this in the freezer," he said quickly, pulling out a half-gallon container of chocolate ice cream he'd bought earlier. He'd planned to share it with the group, and he knew the sight of it might calm Misty down.
Seeing the ice cream had an immediate effect on Misty's mood. Her scowl softened as she relaxed, before inviting him back to the living area. Serena chuckled as she took a seat on the large sofa, Misty taking a seat beside her, while the two boys were across the table.
"Good morning, and thanks for coming, Ash, Morrison," Serena greeted, her cheeks flushing with a soft pink hue. She gestured to a plate of freshly baked macarons on the coffee table. "Help yourselves. I made those. I hope you like them."
"Thanks!" Morrison grinned and reached for the plate.
But before he could grab one, Misty swatted his hand away with the now-rolled-up catalog, making him wince in pain. "Not so fast. We haven't even started yet. Save it for later," she reprimanded.
Ash quickly retracted his own hand, glad he wasn't the first to make a grab for the sweets. "Right, thanks for suggesting we work here in your apartment, Serena, Misty," Ash said, offering a grateful smile. "And for these macarons. They look amazing."
"It was Serena's idea, which I hope I won't regret," Misty said with a slight sigh.
Everyone smiled awkwardly at the implication of Misty's words, but Serena wasn't deterred.
"It's a group project," Serena continued, her voice firm but kind. "We really have to work together on this." She locked eyes with Ash, her gaze softening a little when their eyes met. The blush returned to her cheeks as Ash smiled back. "Whe...Where's Ritchie?" She stammered, trying to keep on track.
"The King is on his throne," Misty quipped playfully, earning a chuckle from the group. Then she turned serious as their self-appointed leader. "Alright, let's get started." She opened one of the plastic bags in front of her and spread its contents across the table. The others followed her lead, and soon the group's work began to take shape.
"As you all know," Misty began, "our topic is Charizard. To make himself useful, Ritchie will be handling the writing and presentation while we work on the scale model. We're going to use paper mache. Who knows how to make the paste?"
Ash immediately raised his hand, his enthusiasm evident. "I looked it up last night," he said, pulling his phone from his bag. "There are three options—no-cook paste, cooked paste, and resin paste. I recommend resin. It'll give the model a sturdy finish, and since we're making Charizard, we want it to be durable!"
Misty raised an eyebrow. "Do you actually know how to make it?"
"Yeah, I watched a video last night," Ash explained, pulling up the video on his phone. "It's only about two or three minutes long, so it shouldn't be a problem."
"Okay then, I'll leave the paste to you," Misty said, looking relieved. "Morrison and I will rip the newspaper into strips and prepare the paper clay for the mache. Serena, you can help Ash in the kitchen. Make sure he doesn't blow us up."
Serena fought the urge to hug Misty for the task she had assigned her. Working alongside Ash—just the two of them.
Oblivious to Serena's excitement, Ash was already grabbing the materials from the table. "After you," he said with a grin, letting Serena take the lead to the kitchen.
"Nice kitchen," Ash commented as he set the materials down on the counter. It wasn't as big as his mother's, but it was spotless and sparkling.
"Thanks!" Serena beamed, then quickly turned to the task at hand. "So, what tools do you need? I'll get them right away!"
Ash looked down at his phone to check the list. "Measuring cups, a pot, mixing bowl, a spoon or whisk, and a container with an airtight lid," he recited, his voice casual.
Serena nodded eagerly, almost too eagerly. Ash was oblivious to the girl's excitement, focused on getting everything ready for the project.
:･ﾟ(ꈍᴗꈍ)･ﾟ:
"I wonder how Ash is doing right now," Goh groaned loudly, his face slumping onto the table. He was holding a block of wood and a chisel, clearly not thrilled about the task at hand.
"His group is working on their model today too, right?" Dawn asked, though it sounded more like a statement. She recalled Ash mentioning that the other day. "Who are his partners again?" In her hands were her own materials for their model-making project.
"I dunno. I just wanna sleep," Goh mumbled, dropping his tools and sliding his arms under his head as he buried his face on the table.
"Quit complaining and just get back to work," Chloe scolded him, though her voice softened as her gaze wandered from her paper to the window, her thoughts elsewhere for a moment.
"Hey, you two! Goh, Dawn!" Gary suddenly shouted, slamming his partially carved block of wood onto the table with enough force to make Goh jerk his head up. "Those blocks aren't gonna curve themselves into Squirtle and Wartortle, you know? So get to it!" The sound and vibration made Goh lift his head from the table, startled.
"Why are we even doing Squirtle and Wartortle? We just need Blastoise!" Goh complained, a sentiment echoed by the other two guys in the group. They were both working on shaping the two lower-stage evolutions.
Gary raised his hands, displaying the materials in his grip. "So you guys have something to do while I work on Blastoise! Plus, I'm sure the teacher will be more impressed if we include all three stages of evolution."
"I agreed to let our group use my house, remember?" Chloe added with a sigh, clearly irritated. "But that was under the condition that no one acts like a Chatot or a Loudred." She returned to her writing, continuing to prepare their presentation for all three stages of their topic. Garry and Goh gave each other one last glare before getting back on their tasks while Dawn and the rest of the group just laughed at the chaotic mess their group was.
:･ﾟ(ꈍᴗꈍ)･ﾟ:
"Ash, I was wondering…" Serena began, her voice trailing off as she watched Ash carefully stir the flour mixture into the pot of boiling water. She didn't want to distract him and risk him burning himself, so she waited patiently, giving him the space to respond.
"Hmmm? What's up?" Ash asked, pausing as he covered the pot and let it simmer. He then sat back on his stool, facing the counter. Serena was sitting to his left, and as she leaned in closer, their shoulders brushed lightly. Ash couldn't help but notice the subtle, sweet scent of her hair.
"Here," Serena said, her left hand holding her phone. Her thumb moved swiftly across the screen before she tapped it one last time, revealing a picture on the display.
:･ﾟ(ꈍᴗꈍ)･ﾟ:
A/N: Thanks for giving this story your continued interest.
-Areyem Meyera