Equanimity, Chapter 31

Often time, Misty told herself that she made the right choice—even if felt like her insides were curled in perpetual knots, and sleep was nothing short of a pipe dream. Drinking a lot was a practice she was growing quite ashamed of, but sleeping after her long days of planning and work bordered impossible. Instead, Misty told herself she made the right choice.

Ash was spiraling.

She was spiraling.

They were both spiraling; totally and completely out of control. She needed a break, maybe some long-distance refresher courses, perhaps even a bit of patience; maybe she even needed time. However, she would never be given the chance to think over any of her possibilities, after what was definitely not a mistake—as she told herself again-because Misty felt another dooming presence coming her way.

Misty's parents were in the city.

The Cerulean City gym leader wasn't happy about it. In fact, stressed to the point her hair was falling out by the handfuls in the shower summarized her excitement of their arrival.

Everyone on the planet had a different relationship with their parents—Misty was no different. Some mothers were like Caroline, sweet and stubborn, with a wild side. Others were like Joanna, open-minded and aggressive. Some where like Delia, smart and caring, but not without discipline. Then of course there was Misty's mother, who had the emotional spectrum of a grain of salt, and decided to leave four children under the age of twelve in a gym alone after their father split two years prior. Her father, while many of her friends' were also absentee—was not only absent, he waited until Daisy was just old enough to take over the gym, before abandoning them for his side-piece, now current wife, from the Unova region.

His not-so-abrupt dismissal of his family destroyed their mother, and when usually such an event brought the remaining family closer together, it only pulled their family apart. Mom left, and Misty's sisters grew from spoiled, bratty children, to spiteful, spoiled, bratty children. And, well, the rest was really history. Misty dealt with their years of complaints and put-downs, then left when she was ten. Honestly, the last few years had been great—she rarely thought of her dead-beat parents, in fact, she hardly considered them parents.

When Misty thought of a paternal figure, she always thought of Delia; which might have been worse, given her current circumstances revolving around a certain must-not-be-named champion.

Misty hadn't seen her mom since she was seven. Aside from a few minor phone conversations, Misty might have thought she was dead.

Misty hadn't spoken to her father since she was five. Nevertheless, as a successful water pokemon specialist in Unova, his face was very frequently thrown in her face. In hindsight, taking her mother's last name saved Misty a great deal of terrible press, as well as her father.

Now, they were both arriving by plane—the same plane—to Cerulean City. Misty was both surprised, a little insulted, and mostly shocked that Daisy even had their contact information—let alone the balls to invite them to her wedding. The wedding that Misty planned for her for the last six months.

In reality, Misty shouldn't have been surprised; if her rational brain was functioning as well as it used to, she might have even acknowledged the idea that, unlike Misty, Daisy never had the chance to develop another lasting relationship with could-be parents; their deadbeats were all that she had.

This was also all to be expected, because two weeks from the wedding, all of the extended family members were showing up. Daisy invited cousins from across the sea Misty didn't know how to pronounce the names of, and uncles she was pretty sure weren't actually related, but wanted to partake in the open bar. Misty saw more of her family this week than she had in her nineteen years of living only because Daisy wanted the biggest, brightest wedding of all. For that reason, Misty knew of her parents arrival, and all the same she was miserable.

The Cerulean City gym was nearly unrecognizable beneath the layers of tulle and party favors. The pool was closed, the ceremony area would be held in the secondary pool room, while the main entrance was dedicated solely to the reception, streamers, a dance floor, and nearly two dozen tables. There was so much teal and silver hanging from the walls and stands that Misty was starting to feel sick as she carried a box and her thoughts out of the storage room where she had been browsing the shelves the last hour.

Topple her parental issues with the fact that the league was preparing her last assessment, she was beyond stressed. They were supposed to reply to her soon about how well her gym did, and she checked the mail religiously. Unfortunately, only two weeks until the wedding, she still had no news if she would even have a gym to open after their temporary close. For once, Misty wanted the stress to stop, to kick back with her feet up and a margarita in her hand on some sandy beach far away.

Unfortunately, though she did most of the work, Misty was not the one going to Travolta Island for her honeymoon.

"Oh, Misty, you've done such a wonderful job!" The high pitched voice was all too welcomed as it bounced off the walls of the reception, Misty turned on her heels to see the auburn haired woman with her hands over her lips, and a broad, yet tearful smile over her face at the entrance of the gym, and Misty dropped the box she was carrying.

"It's so perfect—look at the streamers—and the lights..."

"Delia, I'm so glad you made it on such short notice!" Misty whined, threw her arms up and around the woman when she closed the distance and squeezed her surrogate mother.

"Well, when you called to tell me the caterer canceled, what else was I supposed to do? I mean, french cuisine isn't my specialty, but I'm sure I can fake it with enough practice."
"At this point, I'm prepared to serve sandwiches and rice balls. Come on, come sit with me in the kitchen, I'll show you around."

For a moment, she expected some witty come back 'You know your way to a kitchen?' is what Ash would say, but when Delia remained in awe over the decorations, and as quiet as a church mouse, Misty cleared her throat to indicate their arrival.

"As you can see, it's...a bit of a mess. Daisy started yelling at the last cook and he finally threw his hat down and after having a tantrum, he stormed out—promised she would never have another caterer for her wedding...and well, considering he was the last option in the first place and we're less than two weeks away..."

"Oh, please, don't worry about it! Every bride gets nervous before their wedding day, Daisy's no different."

Misty rolled her eyes in defense of her sisters behavior.

The day before the wedding, sure, Misty could understand that, but Daisy's behavior dated back to the first day of her wedding announcements. Misty had to send out the invitations because Daisy couldn't be bothered to, she had been stressed out on an emotional roller coaster since the first dress fitting, and had gone well over Misty's estimated budget—and did she mention having to buy Daisy's dress for her and attend the sizing because Daisy was missing in action? Not to mention the rest of the details for Daisy's 'extravagant' wedding that she slacked off in favor of manicures and naps.

Instead of repeating any of her complaints, Misty smiled at Delia.

"Yeah, normal. That's what Daisy is." Delia was already starting in on preparations.

"Oh dear..." The mother laughed, "I don't think I've seen half these ingredients before."

"Eh, just throw some of the look-a-likes together, they probably taste the same, right?"

Case in point, Misty held up a red pepper, and a tomato, and Delia kindly removed them from her hands.

"Why don't you let me do all the cooking...and preparing and—why didn't you call Brock?"

Panic crossed Delia's face—perhaps Misty asked her to bite off more than she could chew. Misty coughed.

"Brock is about to take his national exam to get into his program—I don't want to bother him."

"Oh, okay... that's fine... but...uhm, is there anyone else more equipped to handle a knife that could—I mean, not that you can't hold your own in the kitchen—but.." As the mother stammered her concern, Misty scoffed .

"Delia, don't be so kind. You've seen my cooking. We have all experienced my cooking. I burn water, I've accepted my faults and embraced them—however, I can use a knife, so give me things to cut. I'm good at that."

A combination of horror and worry crossed Delia's face. Misty's words helped very little but she relinquished control of the knife, and a single cutting board to Misty before finding her way to some simple vegetable ingredients and beginning to sort what they could use.

"Alright, dear...just don't cut yourself—or someone else—me, specifically." The nervous chuckle that erupted forced Misty to glare directly at her, then roll her eyes playfully.

"C'mon, I've made some progress."

"Uh-huh..."

A strange quiet crept between them, Delia mostly biting her tongue and Misty slicing bell peppers for a salad—or something. Misty couldn't imagine what in the world anyone wanted with peppers.

"Now, you need to make sure you actually dice them, otherwise they will be too large to fit into the casserole."

"Right. Dice. Got it." Misty switched tactics, and with a much practiced slicing ability continued her work. Delia turned to start placing pots and pans on the stove—stunned by the lack of real food in Misty's gym cupboards, outside of what was left from the previous chef.

"But does it need to be perfect? I mean, this is just a test run after all..."

Delia turned quick, sure that Misty had cut herself, or expecting to see something on fire, though she realized quickly that Misty's comment was simple conversation—she was as normal and sullen as ever while chopping the remaining peppers.

"Uh, well, no, but you should always strive for the first test to be the best. Is Daisy testing the flavors today?"

"No, I am. She'll be lucky if we don't end up with tar. I don't have the most broad flavor pallet, after all."

Delia turned once more, feeling the ice radiating from Misty's words. She was so short with any subject revolving around Daisy. Misty was a lot of things, but never distant; especially not with Delia.

"Ha. I can be our taster. Don't worry. If Ash was here I'm sure he would gladly do it." She tried laughing, and Misty knew that she was—but his name on her tongue made her flinch visibly. Fallen into a very quiet sulk. Asking Ash's mother to come help Daisy after what she did to him—oh man, she was surprised Delia didn't slam the phone down on her.

Misty exhaled, "If you say so."

Silence once again.

"Is something wrong?" Delia finally asked Misty who hummed under her breath.

When Misty called Delia two days ago, she wracked her brain for a proper explanation as to why Delia should still help her—wrote a two page paper on a perfectly plausible reason; but when Delia was as happy as she ever upon hearing from Misty, the Cerulean Gym leader was more surprised than ever. Either Ash hadn't told his mother, or Delia was fine because Ash was fine—grateful, even, that he and Misty broke up; he could finally live the life she was holding him back from. Misty wanted to ask which it was, because the latter made her feel cut up inside, but if by some chance Delia didn't know, Misty wouldn't risk the chance of losing her, too.

"No, I'm fine." Misty growled, cutting into the cutting board.

"Oh, you just seem different, is all."

"Could be the reoccurring lack of sleep or everyone's problem dumpster? You know, if I knew Daisy getting married would be so stressful, I would have been the one off on a vacation."

"She's on a vacation?"

"Was—she picked up my mom from Unova and used it as an excuse to leave with Tracey tonight. Apparently she got into it with my dad at the airport and caused a scene—he, of course, was released, and my mom was detained. Guess they didn't like her throwing heavy suitcases at his head or something."

Misty wasn't looking up to see Delia's expression, or how concerned she was that Misty passed this information on without batting an eye.

"I forgot they would be at the wedding," Delia paused. "They're wanting a dinner, am I right?"

"Tonight at seven. No time to breathe."

"I could fake an injury—you had to sit with me in the hospital." Delia offered in the kindest voice, followed by a wink.

Misty chuckled at Delia, who shared Ash's whimsical expression. It made her chest sore, and the smile faded quickly.

"No, it's okay. I suppose we should clear the air before the wedding, since we all have to be around each other. Don't want any maniac episodes during the flower toss or something."

"Misty, you shouldn't put that all on you, your parents relationship issues aren't your responsibility."

"Yeah, I know—but what's one more thing?"

Misty was halfway through her fourth pepper when Delia scooted out a chair beside the young woman, and placed a very firm, and delicate hand on Misty's wrist, stilling the motion.

"Dear, are you alright?"

She didn't mean to, but Misty jerked away violently. Without words the cutting board and all its contents fell to the floor with a large crash and Misty was on her feet clutching her fists and releasing them. Seconds passed before either woman moved, and Misty was the first, swearing under her breath, and gathering up the mess into her hands.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry. I'm just tired." Misty spit her words unapologetic, and set the cutting board back onto the table before forcing a smile.

"It's okay not to be—"

"You know, Delia, any other day, I'd be swinging for some emotional advice, but not today, okay? I'm sorry." She was up, scrapping the remaining peppers into the garbage. Before she could turn to see Delia's disappointment, the mother was already humming, rolling up her sleeves, and starting on some kind of noodle and cheese combination.

"Let's just dig right in then! I can take it from here, thank you for your help! Why don't you go get ready for your dinner tonight?"

No matter how Delia tried, Misty could hear the strain and worry buried behind her gleaming smile and squeezed eyelids. Misty's actions upset the woman—the very lady who told her, only a few months ago, that no matter what, she would always be there for Misty. Usually, she would be full of guilt... Only, Misty couldn't do this right now, she needed a stiff upper lip and strong back.

"Thanks, let me know if you need anything." The passive agreement in Misty's tone earned Misty the disappointed-mother eyes as she turned her back, but Misty had nothing more to say for the time being. When she had time to think, Misty would confront Delia, until this, she had to keep taking one step forward.

"If you need to bail, just give me a call—okay?"

XOX

One word to describe the lavish restaurant that Daisy picked out to impress their parents this evening was fancy. Clearly a building cut directly out of a home and garden magazine with beautiful stone structure, a several meter climbing vine, delicate flower beds, and a massive water fountain at the entrance; Misty's first thought was regrettably how much this place was going to cost them.

Inside was perfect. A low light with ambiance and the scent of distant lavender. The table they reserved was hand selected by Daisy three weeks ago in preparation of their parents arrival. It was near enough to the window that they could talk about the weather, but far enough away from other tables that if anyone started throwing silverware, other customers would be spared head trauma. Daisy picked the location, but Misty arrived half an hour early to make preparations for her parents. First, she removed any hard liquor, replacing everything with wine and water. She demanded that the waiters seat Misty's father and his new wife beside Daisy, with Misty as a buffer between him and their mother. She asked for simple, relaxing, classical music to be played in hopes that it would keep her parents calm throughout the dinner. Of course, Misty offered a very substantial tip for their services and special care, and thought her plan was fail proof.

...too bad none of it helped, because in a perfect world Misty's imperfect parents would be predictable, yet unfortunately for Daisy and Misty, they were no better now, than they were fifteen years ago.

They started fighting like cats and dogs before they even spoke with the waiter.

When mom ran the gym, she had an iron fist! These were the first words that Misty could remember saying as a child, only a few days after Daisy took over as the gym leader—before she understood that her parents were not coming back.

Yeah, but she's never coming back so don't compare me to her! Was Daisy's horrified response before she pushed Misty into the deep end of the pool. It was the first time Misty realized two things: people are erratic, and anger shields a broken heart. It was easier to show anger than it was to show weakness or sadness.

Now, sitting at an overly fancy restaurant, wearing her good jeans and red button up blouse, remembering all the hard times caused by her parents absence, Misty felt silly. How many years had Misty told herself that her parents were good people, despite the negative repercussions on their lives—only to be sitting at a table with them, and realize that she was so very wrong.

Misty hadn't said two words before downing her first glass of wine. Lily and Violet were the smart sisters right now, they both had 'unexpected injuries' and Misty was beginning to think she should have faked one as well, because they had spent little under ten minutes seated, and her mom was already drunk, and her dad was trying to keep the conversation lively with motions to Daisy, who was in a slight panic.

What are we supposed to sit together like one happy family plus one?! Was her mother's very first words at the table. Not a pleasant greeting or manners, a rude snarling comment that forced everyone present to shield their faces.

Since then, the mood hadn't improved the slightest.

"So, you're sure you've cleared the temporary hiatus of the gym, Misty?" her father talked with a sort of trained drawl, the accent of the Unova region that felt foreign to Misty.

"Uhm, yeah, they've been surprisingly nice to me as of late."

"Surprising, considering the news you've been in. That boy of yours is trouble."

Misty fought the urge to rise to Ash's defense. It had nothing to do with him. And for that matter, where did he get off telling her who was trouble or not!?

Her father sighed at her silence. Daisy pinched the bridge of her nose, and their mother went off on yet another half-baked tangent about no good men for the hundredth time that evening. Misty chugged the rest of her drink, and signaled for another. Getting drunk off of wine would be new for Misty.

"Do you usually drink this much?" He asked her directly.

Sure, Daisy got all the nice questions like how was school going, does she battle anymore—Misty was asked the uncomfortable questions that made her angrier with every sip.

"What's wrong with a few drinks?" Misty's mother rolled her eyes, snarling at her father, then, she looked at Misty. "If you don't slow down, you'll get wrinkles like me, and then your boy will replace you with a younger, newer model, too."

Before Misty could make a cock-eyed attempt on her own mother's life for her rude comments, Daisy cut in desperately, waving her arms.

"Mom, why don't you tell us what you've been up to?"

"Earning alimony checks—because of a cheater. Enjoying the sandy beaches of Hoenn—living the big life."

She was so proud of herself, though Misty suspected the woman was lying. Misty's father's wife rolled her eyes and sat back as if saying 'here we go again'. Oddly enough, Misty didn't know her name, as no introductions could be made before her mother started to swarm them with insults.

"For the last time, I did not cheat on you-"

"You sure as hell did!" And a plate flew over the perfectly arranged table, and passed her father's head. At least the idea to keep people away from their table was a success. One out of five, Misty liked those odds!

"Now I've had it!" he screamed, standing up and throwing his napkin down onto the table cloth. This time, Misty and Daisy both took a drink.

Whoa that was way too much, Misty leaned back in her chair as a wave of nausea hit her. The world immediately did the twirl around the room and her stomach flipped angrily. No food, too much alcohol. Oh boy was she feeling great. What was Daisy even thinking, bringing them to a place with alcohol as an option? They should have gone to a zoo, where they clearly belonged.

"You have done nothing but disrespect me, and disrespect my wife the entire night, Rose! What the hell is wrong with you? We've been separated for nearly fifteen years now! Move on!"

"Oh because you're so perfect, Forest! Making this all my fault when you weren't so great yourself!"

No, no. Misty's eyes strained unsure if what she was seeing was correct. Somehow, this felt so familiar. Rose's red hair mimicked Misty's, and while her father's hair was at one point dark, it was littered with gray hairs. Misty took another sip, this time setting the glass down as the pins and needles in her stomach started violently attacking her guts.

"You were awful to live with! Everyday had to be a fight with you, some kind of competition or you were never happy!"

"Well maybe if you wouldn't have been so damn focused on your research!"

"Oh dear..." Daisy muttered beneath her breath, now having a large crowd staring at the two as they threw one petty insult out after another; they looked like bumbling children having a fight rather than two crossed adults.

Maybe it was the wine-goggles, but Misty thought she saw herself and a certain raven-haired trainer's reflection, and her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

Oh god, Misty was just like her mom. This hellish personality was identical to her mother's tirade.

"You were the one who threw me out!"

Suddenly, it was too much.

It was all just too much.

The wine mixed with lack of food, the dizzy spells, and stress caught up to her stomach. In a split second, Misty uncovered her mouth, and vomited over the table, immediately ending the flow of anger and conversation. Her red blouse caught some of the backlash, and both parents and plus took a large step away from the table, with only Daisy reaching to grab Misty, who looked paler by the second.

"Oh my god, Misty, are you okay?" Daisy whispered into Misty's ear, but she could barely hear the blonde. Tears stung her eyes, and she wondered why in the world she got roped into this. The last time she had a conversation with any of these people was long before she could form coherent thoughts!

Not surprisingly, the entire restaurant went dead silent, even the baby that had been crying off in the distance hushed for all eyes to be on Misty, who hadn't even flinched. Thirty minutes. They made it thirty minutes. That had to be a record somewhere.

She hated herself, at least partly. Gently, Daisy's hand crept over her shoulder, and then a stern look of apprehension crossed her face when she turned back to the reason.

"Go home, the both of you. I don't want either of you here—consider yourself uninvited. This was clearly a complete mistake."

"What—Daisy-"

"No, dad, you can blame it on her all you want, but until you can sort out some civility you can both go home. I knew better than this!" and with that, Daisy had pushed Misty, who was like a zombie out of the restaurant and into the street where she started spitting buckets of clear fluid into the nearest trashcan.

Misty wasn't sure what happened after that, one by one they exited the restaurant, Daisy paid the waiter—gave a very hefty tip, and was furious when Forest tried to cover the tab, partially blaming himself. Daisy told him it wasn't good enough, but insisted that if they still wanted to be a part of her wedding, then they needed to figure out how to be in a room together without fighting.

Rose suggested sitting on opposite sides of the room—the only rational thought she had that night. Meanwhile, Misty sat on a bench, looking tiredly up at the sky. She had sweat puddles through her satin material, and her face was wet and clammy. Her neck was matted with sweaty strands of hair, and her arms clutched her stomach until Daisy walked, and took a seat beside the redhead.

"I feel like I should, like, say, thank you, or something for that." Daisy cleared her throat, trying to break Misty's silence with a bit of humor. "Like, you couldn't have timed that better."

Misty hadn't spoken since the incident. Her throat was killing her, and even though Daisy was trying to make her feel better; she felt like shit.

"Did you throw up your tongue or something?" Daisy asked, patience running thin. Quickly, the elder sister added:

"Hey, look, I got rid of them okay? I know you didn't want them around—I can totally remove them if you wan-"

Couldn't she see? That wasn't the point—Misty didn't expect anything less of her parents. She didn't expect anything from them. She did, however, expect more from herself, and the last few weeks, Misty seemed to be letting herself down more than anyone else.

"I broke up with Ash." Misty interrupted before Daisy went off on a tangent about their parents once more.

Misty hadn't really talked about it much...she never had time to. It bugged her so much, she wanted to scream—first of all, she wanted to know what the hell was wrong with her. She pinned after Ash for years—then when she got him, nothing was good enough!

First, surprise crossed Daisy's face, then immediately acceptance with a drawn out "oh." Followed by a very discrete form of silence that was not unfamiliar to Misty.

"So that's why you've been...Oh..." Daisy crossed her arms thoughtfully, looking around the street and back at the restaurant that was filling up, even as they left. She pursed her lips. Unsure of what to say, she tried to joke with the younger woman.

"So, like, is it still okay to have you two sit together at the wedding? You know it's a little late to be changing the seating arrangements."

"What would you know about that? I made all of the arrangements!"

The hateful glare that Misty shot at Daisy, followed by abruptly leaving was enough to make the woman jump.

"Misty, I was just kidding, don't get all in a huff!"

"I will get into a huff!" Misty shot back, frantically waving her arms. "I can't do this anymore!"

"Do what?"

"All of it! I don't want any of it! I don't want to help with your wedding, I don't want to be cornered by the league, I don't want to think about Ash, or go back to the gym and pretend like I didn't rip out her son's heart-!" She was screaming, the alcohol blurring her mind, slurring her words.

"I'm just like mom—the fight they had was practically identical to the one Ash and I had! I'm going crazy!"

"...you got totally drunk and started dissing his man bun?"

"You know what I mean." Misty snarled, throwing up her hands at Daisy's behavior—it was like she didn't even care.

"Well, you can't be that bad because you had the brains to break it off, Mist. Mom and dad fought like that on a daily basis way back when—but you might not remember."

"It all makes sense now." Snidely, Misty veered to the left to start back home.

Kicking off her uncomfortable sandals, walking bare foot would at least keep her sober. Under her breath, she rattled off a million and one reasons she was done with everything. Her parents, the wedding, the caterer, the league—she even condemned the decorations she worked three days on! She was tired of it all!

"That's not what I meant—I mean, Misty." Daisy tried while chasing after her sister, but Misty didn't respond.

"Misty." Daisy tried again, dropping the valley girl accent, the only indicator of her seriousness.. When that didn't work, she finally leaped forward and jerked Misty back so that she was forced to look at her.

"I said stop."

"No, Daisy, you don't get to tell me what to do and apparently you don't care so just—stop! Okay!?"

"Yes I do! That's my right as the oldest sister! I know you've been all high and mighty lately preforming tasks for a wedding that I am supposed to plan and I love you for that, but you need to listen to me right now!"

Misty froze, her blurry eyes glaring daggers at Daisy.

"I've watched you grow up since you were little. I know more about you than you think and I have to say how you're acting right now is pretty fucking terrible, little sister! You bury all of your problems under that hatch you call self control and you understand so little about being an adult yet you prance around as if you've gotten it all figured out!"

She released Misty, now that she had her attention. The night was chilly against their flesh, and Misty lingered against a fence as Daisy gestured with her hands. The red-head could hardly stand.

"Breaking up or being with a boy you think is the one does not give you the right to be a bitch to everyone else!"

"Did you think maybe it's not just that?! I've been running after you like I'm your goddamned mother!" Misty bit back, as she was never one to back away from confrontation or simply take her lashing. Unfortunately for her, fighting was a family trait they all shared. Daisy rose equally to the challenge.

"I didn't ask you to do any of that!"
"And if I didn't, who would, Daisy? You want to preach to me about being an adult, why don't you try acting like one for once!"

"Maybe I would if you would try acting your age for a little while! You've got that self-righteous stick so far up your ass you can't see straight! Let me guess, you broke up with Ash because you thought it was what was best for the both of you!"

Misty didn't have to speak, as the tilt of her head told Daisy everything she needed to know.

"Yeah, well guess what, a relationship takes two people; that's why when you're so far down the rabbit hole you either need to suck it up and keep digging or bail out—and sister you bailed! Breaking up hurts, but you can't lose yourself in the process!"

"And what would you know about that, huh? You've dated over a dozen men before Tracey, so how would you know how I feel? Ash was the one! I've spent the last eight years in love with only him! So what could you possibly know about how it feels to break up with him, huh?!"

"Maybe if you would talk to someone I would know!"

"Maybe if you were more emotionally available I would have!"

They reached a stalemate, both with good points and flashing, angry eyes at one another. They hadn't fought like this since before Misty left for her pokemon journey—technically, minutes before announcing that she would not return to the gym until she was the worlds greatest water pokemon trainer, and leaving without so much as a goodbye.

Recalling that moment now made all of their progress feel mute. These last six months waged a warpath on Misty's emotional health, between the long-distance relationship with Ash, her reputation being torn apart, as well as the process of trying to patch it back together and figure out what the league was planning to do with her gym; Misty didn't even have words to describe how stressed she was anymore.

"I think we got off topic." Daisy interjected, looking away from Misty in her best attempt to calm herself down.

In the quiet, Daisy grasped at her purse, and fumbled for a small envelope. Misty recognized the insignia and stamp right away. An official league document that she took without looking.

"This came in the mail a few days ago."

Still angry, Misty grunted. "Why do you have this?"

"That's not the point..." Daisy muttered, glaring back at Misty. "You can't just make decisions. Sometimes people aren't ready, and that's okay. It's okay to be scared, and terrified of commitment, Misty. Especially when you have a million other things going on in your life, which, you do."

Misty's eyes hit the floor, ashamed of her own feelings. Daisy thought that she saw Misty's lower lip quivering, but she hadn't seen the young woman cry in years, she'd be surprised if she did now.

"But if you really love someone, you have to be honest with them about your feelings. It sucks, all that mushy stuff; and sometimes you'll fight—but if you look at our parents, the only thing you have in common is their fury. You're too smart, and too kind to be anything like either of them—and the fact that you reflect so much on your decisions is more empathy than they have combined. So please don't compare yourself to them. You're a jerk sometimes, but you have a good heart."

Misty swiped at her eyes, in that 'I'm too macho for this' kind of way, and sniffled.

"Are you saying they don't have good hearts?"

Daisy cracked a grin. "I'm saying they've made some bad decisions."

Misty shrugged playfully. "Thank you, Daisy."

"No probs little sis." Daisy brushed her hand against Misty's shoulder, then crossed her arms. "But seriously, you two are going to be civil enough to sit next to each other right? Or am I going to have to separate you two as well?"

Misty rolled her eyes.

"Well, if he shows up with another girl..." Daisy playfully punched Misty arm and rolled her eyes. However, Daisy made Misty feel better, only to kick the poor girl when she was down, and immediately sucked in air to escape. Daisy wasn't great at this pep talk nonsense.

"Anyways, I told Tracey I would meet him at Pallet tonight, but I won't go if you need help—or to talk."

Misty thought about it for a long time, her eyebrows knitted together, and then she smiled.

"No, I'm okay. Go see Tracey. Tell him I said hi." ...Maybe, Misty wasn't ready to open up yet. If she did, she wasn't sure she would put herself together again before the wedding—especially now that the letter was burning a hole in her pocket.

"You sure?" Daisy asked, trying to watch Misty's face for the lie, but either she had a great poker face, or she was so tired she didn't care anymore.

"Yeah, I think you need a break after that fiasco, too." With the most optimistic smile she could muster, Misty sent Daisy off, who gawked.

"You know, Rudy still asks about you-"

"Bye Daisy." Misty scolded, turning onto the street that would take her to her apartment, far away from a mocking Daisy.

Her part of the neighborhood was insanely quiet, and she never understood why. With how down town and the cape were constantly flooded with tourists, her neighborhood should have been hectic. Even so, the small road leading to her apartment complex was less traveled than any other. Peace was all Misty wanted right now, her stomach still hurt from throwing up, so the gentle breeze and the walk loosened the knots.

She'd have a hang over tomorrow, for sure, so she was already making plans to down a few glasses of water.

Twice, she thought about calling Ash, and twice she talked herself out of it. No good would come out of calling in a fit of hysteria, after all, what could she say? She didn't necessarily take it all back, what she said before leaving. They weren't on the same wavelength anymore—so she wouldn't be the one to call him and ask for forgiveness. Then, there was the crippling fear that if she did call him, he would reject her out of spite and anger. She was the heart breaker, after all.

Casting her eyes to the letter she had crumpled into her hand, she finally brushed her thumb over the stamp citing the sender as the Kanto Pokemon League, and licked her lips.

Life was simple, before Ash. She ran the Cerulean City gym, and she did so effortlessly. She reigned undefeated if she wanted to be, she handed out advice to new trainers, guided them on their journeys and was referenced as a mentor by some near-champions. Before his celebration party; Misty had it call figured out. She would go from Gym Leader, to Pokemon Master in due time... but then... the hate mail, and broken windows started—the pranks and evil behavior. It all made her too tired to function. She was emotionally drained, without even trying.

Funny, that Daisy had the letter—and that it was already open, something Daisy only did if she was snooping around Misty's personal mail. The side was slivered out to a degree that unless Misty didn't know her sister, she wouldn't have realized it was open. Peeling back the side, Misty thumbed out the previously opened letter and started reading it:

Dear Ms. Waterflower,

On behalf of the Kanto Region Pokemon League, I would like to thank you for your dedication and understanding of your current position as the Cerulean City Gym Leader. You have obtained extraordinary marks on your last few assessments, and we congratulate you on your success.

Since your time as a leader of the Cerulean City Gym, not only has the reputation of the Kanto Region been upheld, but you have also been successful in raising the standard of training, upholding our values, and conditioning yourself and your pokemon into a strict and orderly program that has increased the reputation, the responsibility and credibility of the Cerulean City Gym over forty percent in the last three years. Despite recent set backs, you and your pokemon have continued to strive for greatness, and continue to go above and beyond our expectations.

After several dedicated months of review, we unanimously decided that your efforts were the most well directed, coordinated, and expansive, earning marks well above your fellow leaders. For the reasons listed above, it is my greatest honor to offer you, Misty Waterflower, a position with us, as a member of the Kanto Region Elite Four as a certified Water Pokemon Specialist and mentor of Kanto Region Pokemon League gyms and trainers.

We would like to apologize for such a short notice, as well as the frequent visits to your gym, and hope that you did not find our intrusion frustrating.

Please take our offer into consideration. If you are interested, reply before the posted date with your filled out application form.

We also hear a wedding is underway. Give our congratulations to your sister.

Best regards,

F. Blue

Mouth agape, Misty re-read the letter several times before leaning against the railing beside the park outside of her apartment to catch her breath. She nearly forgot to breath—at first, a panic that she was going to be formally fired—but...but that.

Well, that happened.

Author's Note:

I didn't read this one again to make sure that I still liked it after having waited so long to upload it... so... sorry in advance if it's just bad in general.

Part of growing up is accepting however good or bad your parents are. Now originally, I didn't have their meeting like this, but I sat down and had a hard look at everything revolving around what little we know about Misty's family, and ran with it. I did my own research into why parents 'abandon' their children and while real life does not equate to fiction/anime I figured I would take this route because it made more sense in my head.

YOU REMEMBER HOW THE LEAGUE KEPT HOUNDING HER?

IT WASN'T BECAUSE SHE WAS A BAD GYM LEADER.

-leaves-

Also, Misty's parents names; Rose, a flower name, and Forest, because forests have flowers? ahha I'm so clever -gets shot-

Still working on edits for chapters 1-29

NINT