Chapter Text
At fifteen, the stars are endless. Misty lays on the grass and she stretches out her arm and it feels like she could touch them. If she only could push a little further, a little higher. If someone could give her a boost.
Her friends aren't much use for that. Brock's snoring on one side of her, and on the other, Ash is tucked into his sleeping bag, staring at the sky with a dreamy expression. Probably thinking about food or pokémon.
There's only one more night before she goes home. Before her break from the gym ends and her heart splits in two, the way it always does. One half with her in Cerulean City, and the other with her friends—her family—continuing on the path that she wishes she could tread too. But she can't dwell on that now. Not when time is already slipping like warm sand between her fingers.
"I'm gonna be a star too one day," she declares instead, and Ash turns to her, eyebrows raised. "When I’m the best Water pokémon trainer in the world. I'll be so tough they'll put my face on the Indigo Stadium."
"Oh yeah?" Ash asks. "And where will I be?"
On other days, she might tease him. Jab him in the ribs and say crying on your mom’s sofa after I beat you or polishing my trophy, if you’re lucky. But for once, she feels like being honest. "You'll be right there next to me, of course."
Ash doesn't question it. He never doubts that they’ll make it as far as their dreams can carry them. Misty likes that about him. His confidence, his strength. That warm smile that makes her stomach flip like old sneakers in a washing machine.
"Meet you there?" he says.
Misty smiles. Picturing it makes hope blossom in her chest. "Promise?"
Ash grins back twice as bright, eyes shining in the dark. "I promise."
Misty blinks up at the banner stretched across the stadium at the Indigo Plateau. Her League-provided apartment is close enough that she passes it every morning, but it still makes her heart swell with pride. At twenty-one, she's the youngest Kanto Champion yet, but she doesn't look inexperienced in the photograph. She looks strong and capable. As pretty as she always told herself she'd grow up to be.
She looks like she belongs underneath the gold letters detailing her prestigious position. She reminds herself that she does every time she's troubled with doubts. Misty worked her ass off to get here. She took the gym that her sisters almost ran into the ground and spent years making it into one of the best in the region. She gained enough fame and public interest that her sisters decided maybe being a Gym Leader wasn't so terrible after all, and when she felt like she could trust them not to totally wreck her hard work, Misty went travelling again. Back to Johto, where she won the Whirl Cup. To the Indigo League, where she taught everyone who said it wasn't possible to win with a team like hers about the amazing power of Water pokémon.
And sure, maybe things aren't exactly the way she pictured they'd be when she was young, but she made it and that's what matters. Misty's not the fourth unknown Waterflower sister anymore. People know her. Want to be her, even. She trains with Lorelai from the Elite Four on a regular basis, and what could be cooler than that?
Misty drags her gaze away from the banner and pushes through the doors to the stadium. She's done it enough times now that the distant memory of a broken childhood promise barely registers in her mind. It doesn't hurt like it used to that there are no photographs beside her own.
"You all did great today! Get some rest, and I'll see you guys tomorrow, okay?”
Misty's pokémon murmur sleepily in response, tired out from all the battle demonstrations. The glistening water darkens as she switches off the lights in the aquarium beneath the Champion's quarters. The sun's already a fading orange blur when she steps outside, and she pauses for a moment, watching it melt into the mountains in the distance. It's later than she thought. Time has a way of rushing by without her realising at all.
"Busy day?" a low voice asks behind her.
Misty jumps. When she turns, Sabrina’s giggling, a Gengar floating ominously behind her.
"Sabrina!" Misty grumbles. “I told you guys to stop creeping up on me."
"How can I resist when you fall for it every time?" Sabrina asks. Introducing her to that Haunter all those years ago was clearly a mistake.
Misty watches her now-evolved Gengar creep towards some unsuspecting tourists taking pictures of the stadium. At least with Gengar around, they're not the one being asked to pose. Not that Misty's complaining or anything. She loves meeting new people, and she can't say she dislikes being recognised. But she signed so many autographs for the kids from a local trainer school earlier that the thought of even one more makes her hand twitch in protest.
Sabrina steps into the shadows of the side of the stadium and beckons for Misty to follow. She's always been psychic, but she's really living up to her name today. As two trainers who worked their way up from being Gym Leaders, they try to stick together. Stepping into the role of Champion was intimidating as hell at first, and proving her strength to the older, more experienced Elite Four members wasn’t an easy task. But it helped that one of the newer members was a familiar face. Even if that familiar face is regularly terrifying.
"How did the class visits go?" Sabrina asks.
"Oh, they were great," Misty says. "The battle demonstration went really well. And Gyarados only made two kids cry today."
"A new record," Sabrina says, and then she pauses. "I suppose that means you haven't checked your email?"
Misty shakes her head. Water drips from her ponytail, still damp from the pool. "I've been running around so much I don't even think I ate lunch. Why? Did something happen?"
"Kind of. There's a schedule for that big tournament that they announced a while back. Sounds like we're in for a treat."
Misty raises her eyebrows. "More meetings?"
"More meetings, compulsory League events. And apparently they're inviting everyone. They want to make it into a big cross-regional event."
Misty freezes. Cross-regional. Does that mean…
She shakes the thought away before it has a chance to fully form, attempting to keep her voice casual. "Do you think any Champions from other regions will show up?"
"Is there someone you're hoping to bump into?"
"No," Misty says quickly. "I mean—yes! Iris is really cool, isn't she? I'd love to challenge her again."
Sabrina raises her eyebrows. "It's possible. Although probably not the Johto Champion, from what I've heard…"
Something twists in Misty's stomach. Headlines about the absent Champion have been spreading like wildfire for months, alongside heated televised debates about whether Johto splitting off and appointing their own Champion was all just a big waste of time. Even Misty’s come across them, and she actively avoids all the tabloids and gossip sites. But she doesn't believe any of it. She sees words like peaked too young and burnt out and she scoffs at them. Misty knows him better than that.
Or she did once anyway. Misty knew Ash Ketchum long before the rest of the world did. She would’ve argued that she knew him better than anyone when they were still kids—running around like they were invincible, standing side by side against everything they came up against. But these days, she'd be lying if she dared to make such a bold claim. To know someone, you have to actually see them, and it’s been a long time since Misty kept track of Ash’s whereabouts. Longer still since the last time they spoke.
But Misty knows that Ash has far too much drive to burn out. He's too warm. He shines too bright. She’s sure he’s off on another big adventure. Charming people and saving lives and almost getting himself killed, because of course he has no concern for his own personal safety. Time might have led them down different paths, but Misty knows Ash is out there somewhere. And she knows that he's happy. She refuses to believe anything else.
“People should mind their own business,'' Misty snaps, and it comes out harsher than she intended. "If someone doesn't want to give interviews or jump through every hoop the League sets, then that's their choice."
"Of course." Sabrina blinks, looking a little taken aback. “Sorry. I always forget you two are friends.”
The word friends stings, jagged and sharp, but Misty can't think about it. If she thinks about it, she might feel sad about the way things ended up. The way that long late night calls became quick texts full of empty promises that they’d definitely catch up one day, as soon as they found the time.
The way that she said too much on that night under the stars and ruined everything.
She can't think about it, because moving forward is impossible when you're always glancing back. And Misty wasted enough time with an aching neck and her eyes cast back on the past.
“It's fine," Misty says, and then turns to face the plaza. "It's getting late. I'd better get back and read up about this tournament."
“You should. And maybe…" Sabrina catches her eye. "Maybe be prepared for anything."
"Well, that sounds ominous."
"I'm just saying. You never know what's around the corner."
Misty scoffs. "Why are you always so cryptic?"
"It's part of my charm. Keeps up the mystery." In the distance, someone screams, and Sabrina sighs. "I better go stop Gengar from terrifying the tourists. See you tomorrow?"
"Sure." Misty waves. "See you tomorrow."
Misty's legs are aching by the time she makes it up the many stairs to her fourth floor apartment. It's a sleek modern building designed especially for trainers and staff living at the Indigo Plateau, and yet the elevator is near constantly broken. She lets herself inside and kicks off her shoes, checking her non-work pokégear as her microwave whirs, heating up the most appealing frozen meal she can find in her freezer.
A missed call notification flashes, and she stares at Brock’s name on her screen. Probably returning the call from Misty that he'd missed yesterday. Stirring her far-from-gourmet dinner, Misty dials his number, and he’s unreachable for the third day in a row. She exhales and collapses back onto her couch. What is he doing? Trekking in the mountains or something? Would it kill him to answer his calls? Being a doctor keeps Brock busy with long shifts, and Misty’s schedule’s pretty crazy too, but she knows he’s taking some time off. She listens to his voicemail message, annoyed he still hasn’t taken her advice and changed it.
“Hey ladies,” Brock says, in that voice has never sounded as smooth as he thinks it does. “I’m not here right now, but please hold your tears. There’s more than enough Brock to go around! Leave your number and I’ll—" Misty holds the gear away from her ear, unwilling to listen to the message in its entirety for the second day in a row.
“Hey. It's me,” she says, pulling it back towards herself when she finally hears the beep. “I’m just checking in to make sure you didn't hit on the wrong person and get murdered or something. How’s your vacation going? I can probably swing a day or two off to come meet you somewhere if you're free, so just let me know, okay? Stay out of trouble, and text me back if you know what’s good for you."
She lingers on the line for another few seconds, but Brock doesn’t pick up. She thinks about calling someone else, but it’s Friday night. Her sisters will be out, and her friends have been busier than ever lately. Travelling and focusing on their careers, meeting people and settling down. Misty sighs and pulls a pokéball from her belt. There's enough space for all her pokémon to live in the aquarium, but she always likes to keep someone on hand. Psyduck emerges, eyes as wide and vacant as ever.
“Looks like it’s just you and me tonight, huh?” she says, petting its almost certainly empty head. “Wanna watch some trashy TV?”
"Duck?" Her pokémon quirks its head at her. Misty lifts it onto the sofa beside her.
She sits in the neutrally-decorated apartment that’s never quite felt like her own and lets the silence surround her.
Peaceful and alone. Exactly the way she likes it.
WHERE ARE YOU NOW, CHAMPION?
This time last year, Ash Ketchum was a household name. A dedicated trainer since the age of ten and the winner of three national tournaments, the Pallet Town native was taking the pokémon world by storm! But after making history by becoming the first Champion of Johto—following a controversial split from its shared reign with the Kanto region—his presence has been lacking. In fact, it appears that he's fallen off the radar completely. Two months have passed since Ketchum's last public appearance, and both his family and fellow League members declined to comment on his whereabouts. Has he eloped? Become the new leader of the recently disbanded Team Rocket? Contracted a mysterious illness? Or has the pressure of being in the public eye finally caused this firecracker to explode? Either way, it seems more and more likely that his title will be snatched up by someone else in the upcoming Leagues. If Ketchum actually shows up to battle, that is.
[ APRIL 19th, THE DAILY STARMIE ]
Brock has always had an Ash shaped space in his heart. It's amazing he has any room left at all considering all the lovely ladies he's met in his life, but Ash has always been a special kind of buddy.
But chasing him halfway up a mountain in Galar is testing even Brock's patience. He could probably start his own detective agency after this. He feels like he’s trekked halfway across the world gathering scraps of information from Ash's former travelling companions. His old friend's a mystery, and a fast-moving one at that.
This isn't how Brock wanted to spend his vacation. Misty's gonna tear him to bits if he doesn't find a day to go visit her, and he barely had any time at all to get to know the nurse with the lovely accent at the last pokémon center. Yeah, he would’ve loved to spend more time healing under her tender loving care…
Brock shakes his head. Focus, he reminds himself as his Crobat swoops down towards him.
"Find anything?" he asks, and Crobat flaps its wings. "Great job! Lead the way."
The path gets steeper. Gravel crunches beneath Brock’s boots. It’s another fifteen minutes or so before he emerges at the summit, and he pauses for a moment, dizzy from the altitude and awed by the breathtaking sight. Peaks of nearby mountains stretch above him into the clouds, and below him, fields of green stretch on for miles. You don’t get views like this in a hospital. It should be the best thing he’s seen all day, but Brock is focused on something even better. On a large rock in front of him, a figure in a baseball cap sits sharing food with a Pikachu. He’s taller now—more of a man than the boy he once knew—but it's a familiar scene. A reminder of the good old days. Brock’s mouth tugs into a grin.
"Ash!" Brock calls out.
"Brock?" Ash leaps to his feet. They meet in the middle of the clearing. Brock shakes his hand, then pats him on the back, just to check it’s really him and not some mountain hallucination. "What are you doing here?"
“Oh, you know, just passing by.”
Ash looks at him like he's caught somewhere between confused and delighted.
"Mind if I join you?" Brock asks. He groans at the way his legs ache as he settles down onto the rock beside Ash's sad excuse for a picnic, ruffling Pikachu’s head as a greeting. "I have snacks."
Ash's eyes light up as Brock unloads some of the homemade goodies he cooked up last night. "This is some coincidence," he says through a mouthful of food. “Were you really just passing by?"
Brock holds up his hands. “Okay, you caught me. Truth is, I was looking for a friend out here.”
Ash pauses for a moment, and then the realisation seems to dawn on him. “You were looking for me?”
“Yes, you! Where have you been? Why are you travelling on your own out here? What if something happened to you? How would you get back if you got injured?"
Ash shrugs. “I’m not alone. I've got my pokémon. And we've met some pretty interesting people lately. The other day there was this farmer who tried to murder us for trespassing, but then he gave us tea and let us meet all his Wooloo! Good times, right Pikachu?”
"Pika!" Pikachu agrees.
Brock's not sure murder and good times should ever be featured in the same story, but Ash has always had a way of seeing the positives in life. Brock studies him for a moment. He certainly seems healthy enough, if not a little wiry and rough around the edges. A little scruffy and unshaven, like he's been sleeping in caves and washing in open water for a few too many nights.
“So what’s going on?" Ash asks. "How did you find me?"
“Let's see… I spoke to Cilan, who spoke to Iris, who heard from Dawn that you were heading to Galar again, and then I trailed around fifteen or so centers until someone said they'd seen you. You're kinda hard to find when you want to be."
"You did all that for me?” Ash blinks. “You could've just called."
"I tried."
Ash pulls a high-tech looking dex-phone combo from his pocket. "Oh. Guess the signal's not great up here… The air sure is fresh though."
"Is that why you're out here? Because the air's so fresh?”
“Sure.”
Brock hums. “You're not in any trouble, are you? You’re doing okay, right?"
Ash shrugs and takes another bite of his food. “Never better. It’s a good life out here."
"And the League doesn’t mind?"
Uncertainty flickers on Ash's features for a moment, before he smooths them out with another smile. ”Why would they mind?”
"Well…" Brock hesitates. He hates to be the bearer of bad news, but he didn't come all the way out here just to share snacks. “I don’t mean to worry you, but there've been some pretty nasty rumours flying around."
"Rumours?"
"All lies, of course. Speculation on where you've been. And uh, stuff about you abandoning your role, or not being up for the job anymore..."
Pikachu adopts a defensive pose, cheeks sparking at the accusation.
"I don't know anyone who believes them," Brock clarifies quickly. "You know everyone loves you. But the press will latch onto anything. I just figured I'd better catch up to you and fill you in. In case you wanted to...clear a few things up."
"Oh.” Ash blinks a few times. “Thanks for letting me know."
"I’m sure it’ll be super easy to straighten things out. Just show your face, do a bit of schmoozing, prove to everyone that you haven't been abducted by moon Clefairys..."
"Moon Clefairys?" Ash repeats.
"I'm telling you, man, it's out of control."
Ash shakes his head. A sigh escapes his lips, and in an instant, he looks wearier than he did before. "Even when I’m not around, huh?” he mutters, and Brock raises his eyebrows. “It’s just...that's why I like being out here, y'know? It's nice to not worry about all that dumb publicity stuff."
"I get it. I really do. But at least if you play the game then you can dictate the narrative, you know?”
Ash frowns. "So what do you think I should do?"
"Well..." Brock rummages around in his backpack until he finds the envelope he's looking for. "Someone asked me to deliver this."
Ash takes it and slides it open, blinking down at the personalised invitation. "A tournament?"
"Yeah. Why don’t you drop by? Win a few battles, attend a few charity events, help out behind the scenes a little. And when it all blows over you can come back and travel to your heart's content."
Ash stares down at it again. “The Indigo Plateau, huh?”
Brock flashes him a winning smile. “It’s perfect, isn't it? You could visit your mom and sleep in a real bed, and who knows? Maybe you’ll even bump into an old friend..."
Pikachu's ears twitch, and Brock doesn't miss the way Ash tenses. A beat of silence passes.
"I'm not really interested in entering," Ash says eventually. "I'm probably better off heading back to Johto. Or Alola. I haven't dropped by there in way too long."
"So you'd rather hide out in the middle of nowhere than face Misty's wrath? We've all been there."
“Who’s hiding? This has nothing to do with—with anyone else. This is just what I'm best at. Being on the road is where I belong."
Ash grabs another snack and chews with a terrifying ferocity. Still a sore subject then. Brock's not sure what exactly happened between Ash and Misty, but he knows that something went down. One minute they were being their usual weird selves and flirting by way of affectionate death threats, and the next, they were all awkward and distant. And polite. If there was ever a sign that the apocalypse was coming, it had to be watching Ash and Misty choosing their words carefully and trying not to offend each other.
Finding out what happened there might just be another case for Brock's detective agency. And maybe if he gets this right, they could fix two problems at once. Or maybe they might meet again and the world will crash and burn. You never did know with those two.
"People miss you,” Brock says, trying another angle. “They look up to you. And I wouldn’t wanna see them write you off when the world hasn't even seen half of what you can do yet."
Ash looks at him, and Brock sees a glimpse of that drive he spent his childhood following. "Maybe you’re right,” Ash says. “We're not even halfway done yet, right Pikachu?”
Pikachu agrees heartily. They strike a synchronised pose and Brock grins. There's the Ash he knows and loves. Brock climbs to his feet and they stand together for a moment, admiring the view and the possibilities that lie beyond it.
"You should come back with me, Ash."
“Come to Kanto?” Ash asks.
Brock smiles at him. “Come home.”