I bet you wonder where I'd been...

I apologize for a late update (Gosh now I sound like the author's note that people make fun of), but I was so swamped with everything. I wasn't doing so good (Mental health wise), and had too much work, and had to travel a lot, but I got over it, so it's fine. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, it's too long (that's what she said), but I hope it makes up for the delay.

Enjoy!

Warning: Here come the fireworks. As beautiful as they are, they're equally dangerous, carrying a deadly potential to burn even as they dazzle with their sparkle.

Chapter 9: Somewhere we can hide

Whatever happened next, we'd need to be on the same page. Last night something had changed between us, and we couldn't keep pretending it hadn't. We couldn't just keep doing this without deciding what it really meant.

Right?

Ash and I entered my room to rehearse, laughing at some inside joke we'd shared for the hundredth time. Our eyes met, and the laughter faded into a moment of silent understanding. Before I knew it, his lips were on mine with a kiss that was as sudden as it was sweet.

We broke apart, our breaths mingling in the air, and he whispered against my ear, "Was that okay?" It made me smile. I nodded, watching the spark of mischief return to his eyes as he stepped closer, pressing me gently against the wall. His thumb traced along my lips. "Is this okay?" he murmured again, the sincerity in his voice made me want to pull him closer. This was not close enough.

"What about the bet?" I whispered, biting my bottom lip to stop the smile from spreading.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. "That starts tomorrow. Right now…" His words trailed off as he leaned in to kiss me again. This time, it wasn't gentle. Our hands started fumbling to remove any barriers between us. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as our bodies pressed together.

We definitely wouldn't be rehearsing anymore.

Our bodies seemed to have a mind of their own. We took our time, trading playful smirks as we fumbled with buttons and zippers, desperate to feel each other's skin. The room grew warmer, the world outside faded to a distant hum, the only sounds were the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional gasp or moan escaping our lips.

It felt like a dream, a wild, vivid dream.

Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it

My love

They are the hunters, we are the foxes

And we run

Baby, I know places we won't be found, and

They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

'Cause I, I know places we can hide

I know places

When I was a little kid, I used to go everywhere with my grandma. One place I distinctly remember was the salon she frequented to get her hair done. Back then, I wasn't interested in fashion or hairdressing, so I entertained myself by playing with the hairdresser's Pokémon toys.

What stood out to me in that salon, however, was the stack of magazines. They had all kinds—Pokémon, travel, lifestyle, fashion, politics, romance, and more. While I mostly flipped through the Pokémon magazines, I occasionally peeked into the fashion or romance ones. Interestingly, some of the magazines were dated as far back as the 1950s. One in particular caught my eye—it had no date but looked very retro. Inside, I found an article that mentioned a term I'd never heard before: Lavender Haze.

Little me couldn't make sense of it, even with its definition written right there. It described being so deeply in love that you're oblivious to everything else around you, completely consumed by the relationship. To my younger self, it sounded absurd, even selfish. How could someone be so wrapped up in their own little world that they ignored everything else?

Now that I'm older, I understand it better. It was not just about being oblivious to the outside world; it could also mean choosing not to focus on anything beyond the love you share. It was an almost dreamlike condition where the person was entirely immersed in their emotions and connection with their partner. This didn't necessarily mean ignorance of reality but rather a deliberate focus on their love, shutting out distractions or external pressures. It was about cherishing a private world where only the two of them mattered. It could also be avoiding public appearances, not discussing your relationship with others, and cherishing private, intimate moments. It was a conscious choice to create a world that revolved solely around you and your love.

Little me would have scoffed at the idea. She would want to tell everyone about her boyfriend and would probably think I was being silly or overly dramatic—like my sisters giggling over crushes. She would have thought keeping such a love quiet was ridiculous. Then again, she also believed tigers were real creatures, so I was not sure her opinion carried much weight.

"Mr. Ketchum, please look at the camera." The man in a stereotypical director's getup—cowboy hat, fringe vest, chunky boots, and black shades—commanded sternly into the megaphone.

Ash winked at me before turning his gaze away. "Of course, Mr. Director."

Somehow, Ash managed to convince them he needed his acting instructor here. And, well, that was how I ended up at the shoot. That man gets anything he sets his mind on

The director let out a sigh. "Just call me Cam."

"Sure thing," Ash replied.

The director looked like he was questioning his decision to do this.

I bit back a laugh, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing again. He was trying so hard to be charming, that idiot. And the worst part? It was working. How was I supposed to keep this bet going if every smile from him made me feel like I was already losing?

Even though I was standing a safe distance from Ash and the crew, I was still within his line of sight.. Pikachu, perched on Ash's shoulder, shook his head at me.

"Mr. Ketchum, just one last take before we take a break, alright? Please," the director pleaded.

Ash gave a thumbs-up before the Director announced a loud 'action'.

He was doing fine the whole day, really. He posed well in the photoshoot. The lead cameraman was Todd Snap, which Ash was fine with, but Pikachu did his best not to zap anyone. Ash also acted well during the first half of the video shoot, but then perhaps, having grown bored, he was now fumbling a lot and making funny faces. Still, he wasn't that bad. Besides, with his face on the screen, I doubt anyone's gonna notice his bad acting.

Ever since yesterday morning after our encounter with Daisy and Elisha, we spent some time not rehearsing in my room. But, the bet–which was supposed to be a gag– had turned into a competition. So the whole Sunday, we were trying to get the other to make the first move so they could lose. That's when I realized we were both still as stubborn as we were as kids.

Even today, the bet was going strong. And so was my desperation. I was stuck between rubbing my win in Ash's face and making out with Ash. They were both pretty solid dopamine inducers.

So far, both of us failed to make the other set aside the stubbornness and just kiss. But I thought the bet was paused because we were at the shoot. It turns out Ash wouldn't drop it in any condition. He was making miserable attempts like winking at me or giving me one of the two looks that he knew were my weakness.

The moment the director called for a break, Ash's on-screen charisma shifted– his fake smile dropped and his resting face was back on, which was–ironically– a smiley face. His posture slumped as if he'd just remembered how exhausting being charming could be, while Pikachu took a big sigh of relief. The crew scattered like confetti, some diving into lunch while others scrambled to prep the set for the next scene. Ash, on the other hand, started heading my way before he was intercepted by a woman in a sleek black dress. He gave me a quick, apologetic look over her shoulder before turning his attention back to the conversation. I sighed and sank into my chair, watching as Todd Snap joined their huddle. For a moment, I thought I saw someone click Ash's picture from behind the green-screen. I squinted my eyes and saw no-one. Probably just my imagination. Diverting my attention back to Ash, I noticed his expression went from enthusiastic to mildly defeated, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration. As much as the thought of him missing his break was tempting for my bet, I really just wanted him close.

Curiosity got the better of me, and before I knew it, I was practically sprinting towards the trio.

"Hey, Mr. Ketchum!" I called out, trying to sound casual.

Ash's face lit up with a wide smile. "Oh, hey, Miss Waterflower! What did you think of my performance?" He gestured grandly toward the set he was previously shooting in.

I shot him a smirk, feeling triumphant, because I was about to outwit him in the game. "Looks like the rehearsal paid off."

Bullseye. Blush bloomed on his cheeks. "By the way, this is Miss Yuki." He said, introducing me.

"Hello," Miss Yuki greeted with a warm smile, and I tried not to let my gaze linger too long on her flawless appearance. Her dress was stunning, her hair perfect, and her makeup impeccable.

"Hey, Miss Yuki. I'm Misty Waterflower, Cerulean City Gym Leader, but today Ash's acting coach," I said, extending my hand.

"Nice to meet you, Misty." She shook my hand. "So what exactly did you do in rehearsals? Because Ash showed a great deal of progress."

Ash coughed a few times.

"We took a new approach this time," I said, making Ash visibly more flustered. "We mostly worked on body language."

"Okay!" Ash jumped in. "Enough about rehearsals!"

I giggled. I was so many points ahead of him, the bet was mine to win.

"Hey, Misty!" Todd said. "How's your Gyarados?"

I shook my head. "Still camera-shy, I'm afraid."

Todd clicked his fingers. "Ah, that's too bad. I was hoping for some shots of his mega-evolved form."

Miss Yuki's eyes widened with interest. "I remember your infamous mega Gyarados. Did you bring him with you today?"

Before I could reply, Ash practically bounced on his heels. "Oh, you have to see him in action! He's incredible."

I giggled. "Thanks, Mr. Ketchum. And, yes, I did bring him. He likes to be close to me."

"Ash is the same old Pokémon enthusiast I remember," Todd laughed. "You know Miss Yuki, I first met him when we were kids, and I was dying to click his Pikachu's pictures. But he hated it, so today, I was very happy I finally got to click some Pika-pictures."

Missed the opportunity to say pika-tures.

I smiled. "That's what it takes to be a champion. It's Ash's bond with his Pokémon that makes him so special."

I could tell that Ash was trying not to squeal like a kid. He loved being complimented, and honestly, I loved beating him at our little bet.

Todd laughed. "The only thing on his mind, I might add."

Ash raised a skeptical brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I pressed my lips together, stifling a giggle.

"Really?" Miss Yuki asked.

Todd nodded, still grinning. "No offense to the champ, but Pokémon seem to take up every corner of his mind. As I know him, he has zero space for anything but Pokemon. Which works for him."

I remembered all the things Ash had shared with me recently—things that were far from Pokémon. It was fun watching him try to keep his composure.

"You're the one to talk," Ash murmured, but no one else seemed to hear it. Over the years, Ash had toned down his brutal sassy-comebacks, now only unleashing himself when he was out of a Camera's radar.

"I agree," I said, casting a sidelong glance at Ash, who was now scratching his cheek and trying to look nonchalant. "Even during our rehearsals, he was fiercely focused."

Miss Yuki's smile widened. "It's great to see such dedication. Clearly, we chose the right person for the campaign. And that gave me the idea that I should've thought of right from the start." We stared at her in confusion, but the woman was in her own world, too excited about this idea she just had. " Now, I believe this is supposed to be your break, right?" Miss Yuki said.

Todd nodded. "Oh, I totally forgot. I gotta grab something for my lunch."

"Please go ahead, Todd," Miss Yuki insisted. "You too, Ash. A good break is extremely necessary for productivity. And when we return, we're gonna try something new, which is gonna be perfect for the campaign."

Oh, thank Arceus.

The bet was back on.

"You stand with your hand on my waistline

It's a scene, and we're out here in plain sight

I can hear them whisper as we pass by

It's a bad sign, bad sign

'Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes

And guns

They are the hunters, we are the foxes

And we run"

I didn't waste a second when we got back to Ash's trailer. We had told everyone we'd eat lunch there before heading back to the set. Miss Yuki had insisted on no touch-ups for Ash, ensuring no one would interrupt us. I hoped the dim, golden light enveloping the cozy space and the faint, sweet scent in the air were affecting him as much as they were me.

"You did good out there," I said smoothly. I leaned casually against the dressing table, one leg extended while the other bent back, mimicking the poised allure of a spy who might take down her target at any moment.

Ash pulled the curtains shut with an unhurried grace, settling into the chair across from me. His posture was all smug confidence, lounging back against the trailer wall like he owned the world. "Thanks, Mist," he replied, his voice teasingly smooth.

I let my leg slide higher against the drawer, my dress inching up to reveal more thigh. "I hope you keep this energy for the next scene," I said, toying with a strand of hair, my voice dripping with sweetness.

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, sending it back to its spiky chaos. I knew they were going to be a pain for the hairstylists again- it took them so much time to tidy them up the last time. But honestly, I liked them messy– it was very Ash. "Oh, come on, Misty."

I rolled my eyes in mock frustration. "Hey! That was my sexy voice! Don't ruin the moment."

Still laughing softly, he pushed himself to his feet and sauntered toward me. That was Pikachu's cue to leap from his shoulder and scurry out through the tiny Pokémon door in the corner.

"Was that supposed to be you trying to seduce me?" Ash asked, his voice lower now, rich with a teasing huskiness I hadn't heard before.

My leg dropped to the floor as I straightened, crossing my arms. "Please. I don't have to try to seduce you."

His grin widened, making me forget about the bet for a second. He stepped closer, stopping just shy of touching me, his presence overwhelming in the tight space. I swallowed hard, my confidence teetering.

"I know," he said softly, his breath tickling my skin as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Because if you really wanted to seduce me, Misty, all you'd have to do is throw on one of my shirts."

I leaned back instinctively, but he only leaned closer, boxing me in against the table. His hand rested lightly on the surface beside my waist. I scrambled to cling to my earlier bravado, but with his face this close to mine, the soft brush of his breath on my skin, it was a losing battle.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his lips grazing the shell of my ear just enough.

I knew exactly what he was doing. And worse, I knew I was losing. "Now, is this you trying to seduce me?" I snapped, though my voice wavered, betraying me.

Ash only smiled, his finger trailing lightly down my cheek, his touch igniting every inch of my resolve. "I'm not trying," he whispered.

I couldn't tell if I wanted to shove him away or pull him closer. Either way, I'd already lost.

"Kiss me," I demanded in an attempt to save myself from losing, because I wasn't going to t make the first move. I refused to let him see just how fragile my heart felt, how desperately it hung on his next move.

Ash's eyes darkened, his playful smirk fading as his gaze locked with mine. His hands moved to my waist, his touch deliberate, sliding up my sides in a slow, steady way that sent a shiver down my spine. He was in no hurry, savoring every second, driving me completely wild. "And lose to you?" he asked with his–made up– soft voice. "You kiss me."

"What's more important?" I replied, a little too casually. This had to work—I'd hit two birds with one stone.

He leaned in closer, making me think I'd won, that the reward would be the sweetest kiss I'd ever known. But instead, he brushed my hair aside and placed a soft, lingering kiss on my neck.

I let out a heavy exhale, my breath shaky and uneven.

"I could ask the same thing," Ash murmured. I could feel the curve of his smile against the sensitive skin of my neck.

I pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, my eyes narrowing playfully. I slapped him on his shoulder. "You are very sly."

"So are you." His grin only grew wider, and he leaned in closer. "You kiss me if you really want to. Let me win."

I rolled my shoulders back. "I won't lose. I'm not kissing you first," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "You can't make me."

"Really?" he teased, his hands slowly slipping around my waist, drawing me in. "Because it seems like you're getting pretty close to breaking. I don't need to make you. You're already halfway there."

My insides were like fireworks, shooting up into the air, ready to explode. And they did explode, but for the wrong reasons– I was startled by the knob of the door suddenly twisting.

Then came a muffled voice. "Wow, I can't believe we're going inside his trailer."

My mouth went dry.

First, the guy stepped in. "If I see his perfumes–"

"Dibs!" Said the girl, also stepping in.

"Cheater!"

Before Ash and I could react, the two teens had already seen us. They froze at the sight, the boy going as far as putting their cleaning equipment down, as if he couldn't handle the weight of so many things. While the girl turned a very bright shade of pink very suddenly. There was a bolt of panic all over my body, as if I was electrocuted. And trust me, I've been electrocuted plenty of times, I knew what it felt like. I pushed Ash back ever so slightly so he would get the hint, but he didn't. When I realized that with the dressing table behind me, I had nowhere to go, I stepped sideways. Ash, on the other hand, finally stepped back and plopped on to the chair, pulling his collars up in a feeble attempt to hide his face.

"So," I said, forcing a calm tone, "that's how you get a speck of dust out of your eye."

The kids just stared. Did they suspect anything? There were a million reasons why the Kanto Champion and his coach might be standing so close, right?

I looked at Ash, whose attempt to appear nonchalant only made him look guiltier. His pink ears betrayed him, even as he fiddled with his collar.

"Ohmygosh, Mr Ketchum?!" The guy squealed, breaking the silence, almost jumping with excitement, not at all addressing the fact that he witnessed our intimate moment.

The girl slapped his arm, giving a sharp whisper of, "Dude, chill the hell down." Then she turned towards us and bowed. "I'm so sorry. We were told you had your lunch in the trailer and are back on set. We were here to clean it up. We didn't mean to…err…interrupt."

Ash looked at me, and we looked at the table where the still untouched food was waiting to be eaten.

Ash cleared his throat, but he was struggling to say any words.

I read the name tags clipped on their shirts. Ash was too stunned to speak, so I had to take charge. "Ben and Sammy, right?" I said, which caught the kids' attention.

"You know our names?" The boy– Ben – squealed again, earning another soft slap from the girl, Sammy. "What? Ash Ketchum's friend knows our name," he hissed. Something about that sentence stung me. Ash's friend.

"You're wearing a name tag, idiot," she whispered sharply, then turned to me. "I apologise for barging in, ma'm. We really thought you were back on set."

"Well, I told you to knock," Ben whispered.

Sammy, once again, gave him the look, the universal look of shut up.

"Hey guys. I'm Misty Waterflower, the Cerulean city gym leader," I said, suddenly gaining that confidence that was absent a while ago. Even after knowing the possible consequences, I felt the need to introduce myself. To make people know who I was. Not just Ash's friend.

The girl turned even more pink than before, if that was even possible. "I'm so sorry."

"We're very grateful that you volunteered to clean up, guys. But we haven't had our lunches yet, so do you mind coming back later?" I asked. I looked at Ash giving him one of my looks of any help here? But no help.

The girl picked up her partner's cleaning-equipment. "Okay, ma'm!

But her partner was still clueless. "Can I have a picture with-"

"Ben, move!" Sammy said, pushing Ben out of the Trailer.

I let out the much-needed breath of relief and plopped on the other chair next to Ash. He rubbed his face, his ears pink. I lightly slapped him on his arm.

"Shut up," he said.

When he finally looked at me, he couldn't help but burst into a fit of chuckles. Instinctively, I mirrored him and a small chuckle escaped my mouth too, but it died before it could evolve into a laugh like Ash's.

"Arceus, did you forget how to talk?" I said, taking a deep breath.

He grinned. "You know what they say, silence is better than saying you were taking out a speck of dust from your boyfriend's eye."

His mouth twitched, like he was holding back a laugh as big and loud as a tauros stampede. I let out a half-hearted smile with a sigh, and that was all it took to send him into fits of laughter. Before I knew it, I was laughing too. But even as the sound filled the space between us, a cold realization gripped me—he wasn't scared. Not at all. That made it worse, because I was terrified when the door-knob twisted. I wasn't ready for anyone to know. Ash, on the other hand, was ready—eager, even—for people to find out.

And he suddenly started feeling very distant.

"Misty, what happened?" Ash asked.

"Huh?" I blinked. "C'mon, eat your lunch and get ready."

"I'm so tired," Ash whined, his head falling back. "And it got boring faster than I expected."

"You can do it, Tiger." I smiled.

"Tigers aren't even real. At Least call me a Charizard or something."

I chuckled.

After getting hit with that big (guilty) realization, I was left anxious. Ash went back to the set, so I finally had some time to panic on my own. But how far has panic ever taken anyone? It only took me as far as the set where Ash was supposed to be shooting, but instead of an ongoing shoot, I found the area vacant, with some crew members packing up.

Where is everyone? To answer my question, my phone rang. An unknown caller ID, but I picked it up anyway.

"Misty Waterflower?" A woman's voice came .

"This is her."

"I'm Miss Yuki Murakami's assistant, Kamilah," said the woman. "Miss Yuki asked if you are up for a quick meeting on set four, regarding the current ongoing shoot with Mr. Ash Ketchum."

A quick meeting? "I'll be there." I said and hung up.

One of the bedtime stories my grandma used to tell me was about two men who stole the Queen's jewelry to feed their starving families. Their intentions were born out of love, but a crime was still a crime.

After the theft, both men managed to escape the guards and sold the jewels, using the money to move their families far, far away. One of the men spent every waking moment trying to stay hidden—changing his name, keeping to shadows, living cautiously. The other man didn't bother. He lived freely, boldly, recklessly, as if daring the Queen's guards to find him.

And they did. The reckless man was caught and punished.

But the other man? He avoided capture, built a business with the stolen money, and kept his family well-fed. To everyone around him, he was a success. But even if he escaped everything, he lived in fear. Fear of getting caught one day. That was his true punishment.

As I approached set four, this eerie story looped endlessly in my mind, refusing to let go.

"Kamilah?" I called out, addressing the busiest-looking girl on set. She juggled a clipboard crammed with dozens of papers in one hand, a pen in the other, and somehow managed to balance a coffee cup in the crook of her elbow. At the same time, she was deep in conversation through her headset. Her multitasking prowess was impressive, but what ultimately confirmed her identity was the helpful name tag pinned to her chest.

"Room two," she said, barely looking up from her clipboard before returning to her call.

As I walked toward the room, my grandmother's voice echoed in my mind: "Tell me, Mist—did the men do the right thing? Or just the less wrong thing?"

I never had an answer. Grandma had a way of teaching life's hardest lessons through simple folk tales, and it always left me thinking.

I knocked on the trailer door. Inside, Ash, Cam, and Yuki were already seated. I joined them, trying to ignore a wave of lightheadedness I couldn't quite explain.

The meeting began with Miss Yuki cutting straight to the point. "Misty, we wanted to ask if you were comfortable battling Ash? I know this is very last moment, but there's no better way to show the bond between a pokémon and its trainer. Plus," she added with a glint of excitement, "we'd love to record your Gyarados in his mega-evolved form."

"But he's camera-shy," I argued, my voice sharper than I intended. "You don't know what Gyarados is like when he's scared. He's not some cute little pokèmon—he's a thirty-foot-long force of destruction when things go wrong."

I felt their eyes on me: Ash's steady, familiar gaze, Cam's curious glance from behind his clipboard, and Yuki's calm but expectant expression, like she'd already decided I'd say yes, so she looked back at her tablet. It made me feel boxed in, like a pokémon cornered on all sides.

"We understand the risks," Yuki said coolly, not even glancing up from her tablet. "We'll have precautions in place. Barriers, emergency measures—everything you need to feel safe."

Safe. She said it so casually, as if her words alone could leash a raging Gyarados. As if people wouldn't hate him regardless of the fact that he was no longer the lashing angry being that he was when he was vulnerable.

"I don't think you're listening." My hands clenched tighter, nails digging into my skin. "He's not like Sylveon or Togepi or—whatever. He's not cute and marketable. People are afraid of him, and most people don't react happily to seeing him in public. He's—" I faltered, heat rising to my face. "He's dangerous to them. They'll see him as the villain against Pikachu."

"Misty." Ash's voice cut through the room, low and steady. I glanced at him and found him leaning back in his chair, his hands resting loosely on his knees. He wasn't angry or impatient—just watching me with that calm, unshakable confidence I'd always envied. "He's dangerous, yeah," Ash said, his tone softer now. "But he's also amazing. Strong. Loyal. And he trusts you more than anyone in the world." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle between us. "You're not just his trainer—you're his partner. And if you believe in him, I know he'll come through."

That trust—it was always trust with Ash. Trust in me. Trust in Gyarados. He said it like it was so simple, like believing in someone was enough to erase all the things that could go wrong.

I looked down at the table, my heart pounding. Yuki's quiet confidence felt like pressure, Cam's neutral expression felt like judgment, and Ash's steady gaze felt like a hand reaching out, asking me to grab hold. But all I could feel was the knot in my stomach tightening, pulling me in two different directions.

"What happens if he panics?" I asked, my voice quieter now. "If he can't handle it? I can't just… force him to do this because you think it'll make a great shot."

The silence in the room felt heavy, and for a moment, I thought no one would answer. Then Yuki folded her hands and spoke, her voice calm and clipped. "You know your pokémon better than anyone. If you believe he's not ready, we'll respect that. But think about it for a moment. I don't mean to be rude, but starring in a campaign like this is a big deal. People will recognise you as Misty Waterflower with a cool Gyarados. But if you don't wanna do it, it's on me anyway. I didn't ask you before changing sets." Though she was sounding sympathetic, she was also calculated and weirdly calm. "We should've asked you because the cost of this set is so high."

I sighed. I knew it wasn't my fault, but somehow I felt like it was. And somewhere beneath all that, a sentence stuck with me. People will recognise you as Misty Waterflower with a cool Gyarados. The thought of coming out of the shadows was exciting. People outside the world of the Indigo league will know me. Like people knew Ash. If I were to steal the jewellery, I needed to be worthy of it. I needed to try. Ash was ready to go public, maybe this was my chance for a soft launch.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the tension in the room wash over me, and then exhaled slowly. "I need to talk to him first," I said finally, my voice firmer now. "If he's not okay with it, we're not doing it. End of discussion."

"Fair enough," Yuki said, as if she'd already won. "Take whatever time you need."

I nodded stiffly and stood, feeling Ash's gaze on me as I turned to leave the room. Outside, the air was cooler, but it did little to untangle the knot tightening in my chest, like a hand squeezing my ribs.

A little voice screamed in my head. Oh no. I can feel it. I'm starting to fuck this up too, aren't I? I need to keep this from falling apart. I have to fight.

When I called out Gyarados, his massive body coiled in the pool, the water churning and spilling over the edges with every restless movement. He stared at me, his red eyes sharp and unblinking, as if he already knew something was wrong.

I crouched by the edge, close enough for him to hear me without shouting. "Hey, buddy," I said softly, running a hand through my hair. My throat felt tight. "We've got… a situation. We're gonna have to do something we both hate. We have to battle with cameras up our faces."

Gyarados rumbled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through the water. I swallowed hard. "I won't make you do it if you don't want to," I said, my voice shaking slightly. "I promise. But… they need us. I need you. Just this once. And if you can't do it, we'll walk away together. No questions. Okay?"

He tilted his head slightly, still watching me, and for a moment, I thought he'd turn away. Then, slowly, he lowered his massive head toward me, nudging my arm lightly with his snout.

A small laugh escaped me, half relief and half something else I couldn't name. "Thanks," I whispered, my hand resting against his smooth scales. "You're the best. You know, if I'm being honest, even I'm terrified right now. But we'll get through this together."

I stayed there a moment longer, my forehead resting lightly against Gyarados's head, before standing and glancing around me. The voices of the crew were loud, bustling to get everything ready.

Somehow, I still didn't feel ready. I remembered the last time Gyarados panicked—how his thrashing nearly brought down the gym's roof. I didn't blame him then. I wouldn't blame him now. But would he blame me? I would. Everyone would.

The meeting ended with me signing some papers because now, I was also officially part of the shoot.

Soon after I signed the papers, I found Ash standing on the opposite end of the set's pool. The set was alive with energy as the crew hurried to finalize preparations. The afternoon sun streamed through the tall studio windows, casting long, dramatic shadows across the set, which the crew was covering so they could do lighting their own way. The pool's crystal-clear water shimmered under the overhead Halogen lights, its surface broken only by the faint ripples from a machine generating artificial waves. The backdrop featured a bright green screen.

Pikachu stood on Ash's shoulder, looking at his trainer who was giving him a pep talk while my Gyarados paced in the pool out of restlessness, its body coiled and tense. I was trying my best to calm him down, but deep down, I knew he was mirroring my emotions.

As a kid, when I would nag grandma to tell me the answer to her question about the men who stole the Queen's jewellery, she would just laugh and say, 'he did it out of love, honey. But he should've thought of a better way.' And that never answered my questions. Grandma's story haunted me. The man stole something precious, but out of love. But it wasn't his to take. Now, I'd never stolen anything in my life, but being with Ash… it felt like holding stolen jewelry in my hands, knowing it didn't belong to me. Knowing the world would come for us if they found out because I was a thief, I was not worthy. Even if I was doing this for love. Then I felt guilty for forcing Gyarados into it. Was this truly out of love for Ash? Was this really just to prepare myself for the public eye? I glanced at Gyarados. Was I pushing him now for the same reason? For my love for someone else? For this fragile, impossible thing I wanted to keep safe, even as it unraveled? I couldn't tell anymore. Or was I greedy? Was I doing this solely to crawl out of Ash' shadows? What'd happen if they find out? And they'd find out.

But who do I choose to become? The reckless man who is caught, but he lived his life to the fullest? Or the one who was cautious, the consequences of his decision always haunting him.

Pikachu shifted nervously on Ash's shoulder, his ears twitching as if he couldn't decide whether to worry for himself or for my Gyarados. My partner paces in the pool, his coiled tension mirroring the knot in my chest. For all our years together, we had a rhythm: when he was anxious, I calmed him; when I faltered, he was there to lift me back up. One of us always had to stay composed—our wrath wasn't something we dared unleash lightly. But now, for the first time, we were both just as miserable. I was fighting for my love, but I wasn't the only one. Gyarados was fighting for me too—not out of duty, but out of love.

"Camera one, rolling!" a crewmember called out. The red light on the camera blinked to life, signaling the start.

"Ready?" Cam, the director shouted on the megaphone.

I stretched my hand and gave a thumbs-up.

Miss Yuki's voice echoed through the megaphone again. "Remember, this isn't just a battle—it's a story! Show us your connection, your trust. Make us feel it!"

"Okay!" Ash and I replied.

Ash caught my eye across the pool. He smiled at me reassuringly. "You ready, Misty?" he called out, his voice carrying over the sound of the cascading water.

"Always," I shot back, my grip tightening on Gyarados's Poké Ball.

He pumped his fist in the air, and I smiled at his enthusiasm. I hoped he couldn't sense the spaghetti like tangled thoughts occupying my head. "Get ready for a fight, Gyarados!" Ash called, grinning ear to ear.

I couldn't even pretend anymore. I just gave a smile which (I assumed) would have looked like a Victorian child smiling before dying of a Scarlet Fever.

My heartbeat pounded in my skull, loud as the crowd around us. Battles were where Ash and I thrived, where we were most ourselves. Being out in public with Ash brought out the real me for the whole world to see for the very first time after a long time. It was terrifying. Now that I was thinking about it, should Miss Yuki really have put me on the shoot when she knew more than half of the people in the league hated me?

The director raised his hand, and the set went silent. Even the murmurs of the crew faded away, replaced by the rhythmic sound of water lapping against the edges of the pool.

"Action!" Cam shouted.

Pikachu leapt from Ash's shoulder, landing nimbly on the rocky edge of the pool. Sparks danced along his cheeks, the static energy crackling audibly. At the same time, I gestured to Gyarados, who let out a mighty roar, his serpentine body rising above the water in a breathtaking display of power.

"Pikachu, use Thunderbolt!" Ash commanded, starting strong, his voice ringing with confidence.

"Gyarados, use Hydro Pump!" I yelled, pointing at my favorite electric mouse. But my body felt stiff. I was nowhere near as confident as I usually am in the gym. I knew they were watching me, and I know how that usually ends. I just hoped I was not affecting Gyarados' battle. Because we needed to get this one right. To let people know Misty was not an angry teen anymore.

The set came alive as Pikachu unleashed a brilliant arc of electricity that raced across the pool, illuminating the entire space in blinding gold. Gyarados retaliated with a jet-like force of water, but just like I was afraid of, it was the weakest he has ever been in a while. The two attacks collided in an explosion of light and steam. As I anticipated (and also as per the script), Pikachu's attack overpowered Gyarados'.

"Stay strong, buddy!" I said.

Pikachu jumped back on the rock close to Ash. Gyarados also swam closer to me, flinching as one of the reflectors shone in his eyes. And once he noticed the camera beside the reflector, it was even harder for him to stay focused just on the battle.

You can do this, babyboy.

Ash pointed dramatically. "Let's go, Pikachu— use Quick Attack!"

Before I could command anything, I could see a yellow figure approaching us, so fast you'd think it was a ghost. Pikachu's tiny body hit Gyarados' with such a speed that it impacted him a lot and he stumbled backwards.

I gasped. It should not have affected Gyarados like that. And Ash had noticed it too, he was looking at me with his eyebrows furrowed, but in a very I'm concerned for you kind of way. That's when I realised, my emotions weren't just mine. Everyone I loved was affected by it too. I needed to get my shit together. Yes, this was scary. Yes, they'd probably hate me, but if we were to be hated anyway, at least we'll go down with dignity.

If the world thought we were dangerous, we'd show them what destruction looked like, and we'd look cute while doing so. Because I am Misty and the world should know who I am. I chanted the cheesy line, which felt like it was straight out of a sports movie.

Gyarados needed me. I needed me. I stretched my neck, the bones making a cracking sound that always creeped me out, and spread my legs wide, mounting them on the floor to prepare for the kind of forces Gyarados will be unleashing soon.

"Now!" Ash shouted. "Use Electro ball!"

"You got this, Sweetie! Use Hurricane!" I commanded. This hit too close to home, reminding me of the battle Ash and I had years ago. For that split second, I had an epiphany. Ash said he loved me for a long time. He probably loved me back then too. If I'd seen things clearly all those years earlier, when Ash wasn't so famous, would I be feeling different? Would everything still be so painful?

The epiphany was interrupted by the strong clash of Pikachu's Electro ball and Gyarados' hurricane. The electric and storm like forces collided, fighting for dominance, but to our surprise, resulting in a horrid whirlpool of electricity, air and water. I had prepared for it earlier, but the force almost dragged me back. The electro ball started dissipating, losing its point of focus against the Hurricane, but the shimmering water that was dancing along the hurricane carried the electricity with it, making it all look like a giant, inverted Christmas-tree. The ferocity of it all made my hair and clothes dance wildly along with it. I glanced around to discover that some props and reflectors were the victims of the monstrous forces.

"Ugh, that was awesome, buddy!" Ash shouted. "Did you see that Misty?"

I nodded. "They nailed it!" I shouted back, remembering Yuki and Cam telling us that we could banter or talk to make things feel natural. They'll take care of the unwanted things in the editing anyway.

But when I responded to Ash, I noticed it, clearer than the obvious tornado in front of me. Ash stared at me as if I was shooting lasers from my eyes. He shrugged at me, his subtle way of asking a question. You okay? I shook my head with the realest fake smile. In return, a small smile cracked on his lips, and he nodded at me. I nodded back.

So far, we were right on the script. As the battle raged on, the tension between Ash and me grew, every command sharpening the edge of our rivalry. But beneath the fierce competition, there was something else—a longing I could no longer hide. Normally, the thought of loving him out in public was terrifying. The thought of the world hating me for stealing their beloved hero made my stomach twist. But here, on the battlefield, it was different. Here, we were equals. Every shout, every glance, every perfectly timed move was ours. It felt like we belonged—not just to the fight, but to each other. And in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to have him all for myself.

"Pikachu, dive in the water and use Electro Ball on Gyarados!" Ash commanded.

Pikachu disappeared under the surface of the pool. I could see a very slight hue of yellow glowing with the electricity gliding underwater towards Gyarados. The next thing I saw was a flash of light illuminating the surface of the water, probably hitting my Gyarados underwater. He roared, visibly trying to resist as sparks of electricity climbed up his body. But that could only last so long, and he inevitably fell down, the electric attack causing subsequent damage.

Seeing Gyarados down snapped something in me. Alright, this was it. The script had guided us up to this point, but from here on, it was just Gyarados and me. Our moment to shine. To show everyone the "special bond" that tied us together.

Ash's moves never ceased to amaze me. He had this uncanny ability to think outside the box, to catch me off guard—and this time was no different. For the briefest second, I found myself smiling, my heart skipping at the thought that this incredible, unpredictable man was mine. But a sudden glare snapped me out of my thoughts. One of the crew members had adjusted the reflector, sending a sharp beam of light in my direction. I flinched involuntarily, the brightness momentarily disorienting me. The reminder of all the eyes on me—on us—felt overwhelming for just a heartbeat.

Then I saw him. My Gyarados. His proud, towering form lying in the pool, struggling to get back up. His confidence slipped as he glanced back at me. My breath caught in my throat.

"No," I murmured, shaking my head. "Not like this."

I squared my shoulders and met his gaze, my voice steady and reassuring. "Hey, we've got this. It's just you and me, Sweetheart. Nothing else matters."

Gyarados groaned, picking himself back up, his eyes glimmered with renewed determination, and I felt the crowd and the lights blur into nothing. It was time to show everyone that my Gyarados was not just some monster. He was majestic. He was charming. This was our moment. "Gyarados, Dragon Dance!" I commanded, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me.

Gyarados roared, his crimson eyes glowing as an aura of crimson and azure energy enveloped him. His serpentine body twisted in a hypnotic dance, the air growing heavy and the pool beneath him churning in response, like a dragon from ancient lores.

With a final burst of power, a gust of energy rippled across the battlefield. When he stilled, Gyarados radiated strength and determination, ready to strike.

Everyone could only stare in awe at the primal display of strength. "We're going to need more than raw power to stop that," Ash muttered, determination flickering in his eyes. "Brace yourself, buddy, and get ready for our next move."

But before anything could happen, I issued a command, pointing toward the charging Pikachu. "Use Waterfall!"

With a thunderous roar, Gyarados surged upward, torrents of water cascading around his massive form as he hurled himself directly into Pikachu's path.

"Pikachu, dodge it!" Ash countered.

As an advantage of Dragon Dance, my Gyarados could keep up with the speed and, luckily, he didn't miss the target. The collision sent another wave of spray over the set, drenching everything in its vicinity. Pikachu was flung backward, the move hit Pikachu like a piercing sword, seemingly taking heavy damage, but he managed to land gracefully,

I'm sorry Pikachu, I thought.

"Are you okay, bud?!" Ash asked.

Pikachu's ears twitched before he got back up on his paws, shaking off the water and glaring at his foe. He nodded with unwavering determination. I took a sigh of relief.

I knew it was time, I could feel it.

"Come on, my sweetheart!" I said boldly. "Show them how strong you are!"

Gyarados let out an earth-shaking roar, the sound echoing through the set. His body shimmered with a faint, otherworldly light, and I knew what I had to do.

I reached for the Keystone on my bracelet, its surface glowing in response to the bond between me and my Pokémon. "Strong. Brilliant Powerful. My beautiful blue sweetheart, it's time! Mega Evolve!"

The energy in the room shifted, a tangible force that made everyone stop and stare. The Keystone pulsed, connecting with the Gyaradosite embedded in Gyarados's scales. A brilliant light engulfed my pokémon, his silhouette shifting and growing as his power surged.

When the light faded, Mega Gyarados stood towering above the battlefield, his massive, dragon-like form radiating an aura of unstoppable strength. The crew gasped, their awe palpable.

Ash's grin faltered for a split second, but then he straightened, his determination flaring anew. "Woohoo!" he screamed with joy. "So cool! We're not done yet, Pikachu! Volt Tackle, let's go!" he commanded, emitting excitement.

As the tension in the arena mounted, I called out, "Gyarados, use Protect!"

Just as Pikachu charged forward, electricity crackling around his body, Mega Gyarados quickly formed a shimmering barrier around himself. The barrier glowed with an intense blue hue, pulsating as it activated.

Pikachu launched himself at Gyarados, his Volt Tackle slicing through the air with incredible speed. But as the attack connected with the barrier, a burst of light erupted, creating a dazzling display. The powerful strike was absorbed entirely by the Protect shield, leaving Gyarados unscathed.

Ash clenched his fists, his voice ringing out over the chaos. "Pikachu, it's time! Let's show them what we've got! Are you ready?"

Pikachu's cheeks sparkled with energy as he squeaked in affirmation, determination shining in his eyes. Ash raised his Z-Power Ring, the crystal shining brightly as he called out, "Pikachu, unleash 10,000,000 Volt Thunderbolt!"

With a surge of electric energy, Pikachu transformed, surrounded by a vibrant aura that crackled with immense power. He leaped into the air, the energy around him intensifying as Ash channeled the Z-Power through his ring. The arena buzzed with anticipation as Pikachu gathered the full force of his Z-Move.

"Now, Pikachu!" Ash shouted, a fierce determination in his voice. He raised his hand to do a modified version of his infamous pre-Z-move bit, Pikachu following the dance-like steps. While punching his fist in the air, Ash commanded, "Let's hit Gyarados with everything you've got!"

My heart clenched as Pikachu summoned a massive bolt of lightning, the sheer force of the attack making the air hum with energy. Pikachu unleashed 10,000,000 Volt Thunderbolt, a colossal bolt of electric energy surging toward Mega Gyarados, illuminating the battlefield in a brilliant flash of blinding light. Crew members scrambled to shield the cameras, but no one looked away—the scene was electric.

I could see everything in slow-motion, but I knew what to do. I was quick with my next command. "Gyarados, quick! You know what to do!"

And Mega-Gyarados followed the command just as swiftly. I held my breath, waiting to see the results. Without hesitation, Mega Gyarados roared, channeling a burst of its energy. A glowing, translucent replica of itself materialized in front of him just as Pikachu's Z-Move crashed down in a blinding surge of electricity. The Substitute absorbed the full force of the devastating attack, shattering under the impact.

When the light cleared, Gyarados stood unharmed, his crimson eyes locked on Pikachu, ready for the next move.

When I finally took a breath again, I jumped with excitement, punching the air. "Way to go, Sweetheart!" I cheered, unable to hide my excitement over everyone's shocked faces and Gyarados' smooth move of absorbing the monstrous attack by Pikachu.

But I quickly braced myself. I had to finish the battle just as gracefully. As the light faded, I knew I had to cease the opportunity.

Ash, who was seeing it all wide-eyed, finally spoke, "Gyarados knows Substitute?!"

I smiled proudly. "I didn't become the Top Gym Leader without teaching my pokemon how to fight against their weaknesses."

He smiled fiercely at my comment. "That was amazing!" I smiled back and nodded, signaling him to get back to the match.

Focusing back on the match, I quickly called the next move before Ash. "Gyarados, use Crunch!"

With a deafening roar, Gyarados lunged forward, jaws wide open, dark energy radiating from his fangs. Pikachu, still catching his breath after the Z-Move, couldn't dodge in time. Gyarados clamped down with devastating force, dealing a heavy blow.

"Don't let up, Gyarados!" I shouted. "Follow up with Earthquake!"

Ash's eyes widened. "Pikachu, climb the rocks—quick!"

With a mighty roar, Mega Gyarados slammed his tail against the ground of the pool. Shockwaves rippled through the water, shattering the rocks Pikachu was climbing. The entire battlefield trembled as the Earthquake sent a towering wave of water crashing upward, defying gravity like a tsunami.

"Pikachu, climb Gyarados! Aim for his back!" Ash yelled desperately.

But the quaking ground and surging wave knocked Pikachu off balance, sending him tumbling into the chaotic waters. The tsunami's force and the relentless shockwaves left him vulnerable.

As the battlefield calmed and the water settled, silence fell over the room. Pikachu landed on the shattered rocks, his small body sprawled in defeat. Above him, Gyarados roared triumphantly, his massive form glowing with the residual energy of Mega Evolution.

As the director called out, "That's a wrap for this scene!" Ash and I exchanged a glance, the intensity of the battle still simmering between us.

The crew erupted into cheers, their applause filling the set as the cameras captured every moment. The battle might have been over, but the energy lingered.

Ash rushed to Pikachu's side, gently cradling his partner in his arms. "You did amazing, buddy," he murmured, his voice full of warmth and pride. Pikachu nuzzled against him weakly, letting out a soft, affectionate "Pika…"

I breathed. First, I reached out and touched Gyarados' face, who was now facing me, just as eager to celebrate with me. I touched my forehead against his, savoring our sweet victory. "I love you. You were amazing."

A moment later, I recalled Gyarados into its Poké Ball and kissed it.

Take some rest bud.

"You both were incredible," I said, offering Ash a smile.

He looked up at me, his expression a mix of respect and something deeper. "So were you. Gyarados was unstoppable out there."

"Is Pikachu okay?" I asked.

Ash nodded, smiling.

Even if the battle was over, my breaths were still fast. We did it. We battled in front of the camera, and we showed our rough side. And they loved it. And no one hated Gyarados. Or me. At least not yet. I felt like the man from Grandma's story. The man who tried. The man who gave it all for his love, who was careful with the jewels. The man who was safe.

I didn't exactly know what was going on in my head, but I knew exactly what I wanted to do right now.

Back in Ash's trailer, the air felt heavier, more charged. I couldn't wait any longer.

Ash looked at me, and he knew.

"Thank you for making me do this," I murmured.

"Salute to the rising sun," Ash said, caressing my cheek lovingly.

I held his hand. "Salute to the one who helped it rise."

He shook his head, smiling. "No one can make the sun rise. The sun rises on its own."

I wanted to say it, finally say it so he knew. He deserved to know. But the words didn't dare to escape my mouth. They were just echoing in my head, I Love You. I Love You.

Before I could draw it out any longer, I closed the space between us, tangling my hands in his hair as I pulled him into the kiss I'd been craving for what felt like forever. What words couldn't say , actions could.

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't careful. It was everything—raw, electric, and dizzying, just like our battle. His lips answered my desperation, his grip on my waist the only thing keeping me steady as my knees buckled. My thoughts finally quieted.

Ash's hand swiped across the surface of the dressing table, scattering everything on it to the floor in one chaotic sweep. Bottles clattered, brushes tumbled, and the small mirror slid to the edge with a sharp clink, but neither of us cared.

In the next instant, his hands gripped my waist firmly, lifting me with ease. My heart raced as I braced myself against his shoulders, and before I could think, I was perched on the edge of the table, his body pressing against mine.

The sturdy surface beneath me seemed fragile compared to the heat building between us. His hands didn't leave my waist, their grip strong, anchoring me to the moment. My legs wrapped instinctively around his hips, pulling him closer as his lips found mine again, more insistent this time.

The world outside the trailer ceased to exist; nothing mattered but this, but him. And I wanted it to stay that way. Just us.

It was everything I needed—and so much more. For the first time, I let myself believe this was real—that this wasn't just the battle, but us, something worth fighting for.

We broke apart and Ash's wide grin was ready to rub the win on my face. "I won the bet," he said.

I slapped his arm. "Way to rub it in. Now, what was it that you'd get if you won?"

He snorted, his head tipping back as laughter shook his shoulders. "I would've asked you in five more seconds, you know. Please go on a date with me."

"That depends—are you going to keep talking, or are you going to prove you deserve that date?"

"Huh?" He tilted his head.

I giggled at his infamous obliviousness. "Finish what you started, Mr. Pokemon Master."

"Aye, aye Tiger."

Somethin' happens when everybody finds out

See the vultures circling, dark clouds

"Did anyone follow you?" Ash whispered in my ear as we hugged.

I couldn't help but giggle. "No, Mr. py From Mission Impossible."

"Right? It's like we're actual spies!" he said, grinning.

We pulled apart, exchanging goofy smiles, but my heartbeat was fast. And it wouldn't slow down until we were in the public eye.

Ash looked ridiculously pleased with his "perfect incognito outfit" – a brown hoodie, blue jeans, a gray cap, sunglasses, and a mask, which he'd pulled down to his chin so I could see his face before he'd have to slip back into full disguise. I had to admit, I was just as pleased with my own look. I knew no one would recognize me in a hoodie and plaid skirt—a bit too preppy for my usual style (not that I minded). The beret, cat-eye sunglasses, and sleek boots completed the disguise, along with my flawless makeup and neatly styled hair. We looked like entirely different people.

I glanced around the park. At eleven in the morning, it was still fairly quiet, and I hoped the places we were headed to would be just as low-key.

"Okay, put your mask back on now," I said to Ash, spotting a group of girls in the distance, walking toward us.

Ash groaned but obeyed, pulling the mask back over his face. He turned to check on the approaching group, and seeing they were still far enough away, he quickly turned back to me, slipped the mask off again, and kissed me right on the lips.

A tight knot formed in my chest. I held his face, pulling him closer as his arms tightened around my waist. His warmth was grounding, the press of his lips against mine as dizzying as the first time. I closed my eyes, letting myself savor it for a moment longer. Just one more second. Just him and me.

But then, I heard footsteps drawing near. My heart screamed for more of his kisses, begging me to stay safe in his arms. But my head—the one that had learned to survive on fear—won. It always won.

I pulled back quickly, my fingers trembling as I tugged his mask back up. Strangers' glances pierced me, sharp as knives. Every passerby felt like a secret journalist trying to catch us. Every whisper seemed to tear at my edges, picking me apart just for existing in the same space as Ash.

He wouldn't understand—not the fear, not the weight of it. How could he? The world adored him. But to me, it felt like it was always watching, waiting for one wrong move, one wrong look, one kiss too long.

The girls passed by without even a second glance, whispering and giggling about something they were too indulged into to notice my flustered face, and I let out a relieved sigh.

"That was close," I whispered.

"Totally worth it!" he grinned.

I smiled meekly.

If it's what I dream I need

Why can't I let myself feel it?

If it's what I dream I need

Why am I so scared to keep it?

A/N: You can sense it. I can sense it. We can all sense it. We're gonna get wrecked in the next couple chapters, mwahahahaha!