We couldn't say them,
So now we just pray them,
Words that we couldn't say.
Although he could describe in vibrant detail the first day he had met Misty Waterflower, Ash Ketchum could not tell of the day he had first fallen in love with her. The reason was simple; he didn't know. One doesn't wake up one morning and realize, "Hey! I'm in love with my best friend." It was a bit subtler than that.
Ash walked to the window and looked out. Another day was coming to a close in an unusually spectacular fashion. The distant mountains, purple in the waning sunlight, rose up as if to bite at the oranges, yellows, and reds of the sky.
On some days Ash could make it from sunrise to sunset with thinking of her, but on days such as this one, when the sky itself reminded him of her, she never left his mind. His mental image of her, full of life and happiness, was still as clear and concrete as it was the last time he had seen her, over nine years before.
Funny ain't it
Games people play,
Scratch it, paint it,
One in the same.
The bush rattled again. Involuntarily, Ash held his breath. Beside him, Pikachu remained absolutely still. Finally, after what seemed like hours, a small face appeared from beneath the shrub. It was a Vaporeon. Not the rarest of pokémon, Vaporeon were still sought after pokémon. Trying to keep an eye on the pokémon, he turned to Pikachu and nodded.
"Pikachu!" the electric pokémon shouted. The Vaporeon turned in fear, but too late to block the incoming thundershock. The force of the attack sent the pokémon back under the bush.
Ash felt badly for causing it pain, but knew once it was captured, it would have a good trainer. Quickly he threw an empty pokéball. It opened in midair and flew toward the knocked out Vapereon, whose tail protruded from under the shrub. In a flash of red light, the tail disappeared and a stream of energy shot into the pokéball. The ball fell to the ground, shook once, and came to a rest.
"Yes!" Ash shouted, the first sound he had made since waking up early three hours before. He stiffly got to his feet and walked over to the now occupied pokéball. He smiled as picked it up. "Perfect," he said and turned to go back to the camp. The others should just be waking up.
We couldn't find them,
So we tried to hide them,
Words that we couldn't say.
Ash left the window and the sunset beyond and returned to his desk. There he sat down and opened the top drawer. From within he pulled out a pen and worn notebook. He had been keeping a journal since he was 16. He had decided early on to always write in pen. Something written in pencil could always be erased. Ink, on the other hand could only be struck out. It was like the past in that way. You can't erase the past. You can try to hide it away, but in the end it always leaves its mark.
The journal had been a suggestion from his therapist. Days like today, the period in his life when he had needed one didn't seem that far away. In time he had outgrown the therapist, but had hung onto the journal.
He opened the notebook and leafed through until he got to a blank page. There were far fewer blank ones than filled ones. It wouldn't be long before the notebook found its way to the bottom drawer to join the others. How many were down there now? Twelve? Fifteen?
Determined to finish this before the day was through, he began to write. I had four challengers today. The first was an easy battle. I might have been the kid's first gym opponent. He has a lot of promise. He name was Chester Green, from Viridian City, I think. Ash paused. He wondered if all the gym leaders that he had faced remembered his name at the end of the day. Probably. Not that he had been extraordinarily gifted or stood out from the crowd; it was just what gym leaders did. The second was an older boy by the name of Bryce Jonhson. He had a high level Charizard and pulled off a particularly clean victory. Sarah Candar was third and also won. She had a Venusaur and seemed to have a well-groomed relationship with her pokémon. Better than most that visited the gym these days. It seems like all people want now is the quick road to the top. Sounds like someone I used to know. The last challenger was another young boy named Joshua Sweet. He put up a good fight, even if his pokémon was a low level. He and his pokémon need a bit more training, but with a few more years under his belt, he'll definitely be one to watch. I've been pretty good over the years at picking 'em. Today was the first day in awhile that I have lost two matches. Maybe I'm losing my edge. Then again, I always say that after I lose two. I still haven't lost three!
Ash set down the pen. It was just another day in the life of a pokémon gym leader. Everything was normal except for the date that happened to be on the wall calendar. April 22nd.
It hurts, don't it,
Fools on parade,
Taint it, own it,
Chase it away.
The small town of Blossom City was just waking up as Ash strolled down the deserted main street, his faithful Pikachu just behind. Ash paused to glance into a store window and Pikachu took the opportunity to jump up to his shoulder.
"Pika," the pokémon stated.
"Yeah, I'm getting hungry, too. Let's get back to the pokémon center before Misty and Brock send out a search party for us."
The pokémon center was equally quiet, but there were already several trainers in the cafeteria. Two of those taking advantage of the small buffet breakfast were Misty and Brock. Brock, facing the entrance, saw Ash first and shouted a polite "hello." Misty turned and waved. After Ash picked up some breakfast of his own as well as some for Pikachu, he made his way to their table.
"Hey, guys," Ash said happily as he sat down.
"Hey," Brock replied.
"Where have you been?" Misty asked.
"Out catching pokémon, what else?" Ash said with sly smile.
"I didn't think you knew how to get up this early in the morning. When I saw you gone, I thought you may have been taken off by a wild growlithe or something."
"How would you know? You never get up before noon unless Brock already has breakfast ready."
"You're one to talk about breakfast. You can eat more than a Snorlax!"
Oh, no, Ash thought. He could see where this was leading. It was always the same; it didn't matter who started it. One of them would make a smart remark and the next he knew, they were fighting again. The problem was, he didn't want to fight with her, especially not today. So instead, he did something he had never done before. He swallowed his pride. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I do tend to overdo it at times."
The shock on Misty's face probably could have been seen twenty miles away. Brock, who had just begun to drink some of his orange juice, struggled not to stray it all over the table and his companions. Even Pikachu, who had been perched on the table, barely managed to not fall off.
Ash tried his best to keep his anger in check. Was it so surprising that he might not want to fight today? Could he just want to do the nice thing for a change? The silence at the table showed no sign of dissipating. Ash found himself trying to come up with the rights words to say next, even though he had practiced them several times on his way back to the center earlier. Finally in defeat, he decided to ad lib, and putting on his best smile--at least what he hoped was his best--turned to Misty.
"Um, Misty," he stuttered.
"Yeah Ash?" she asked.
"Happy Birthday," he said quickly, before he found himself too worked up to follow through. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out the pokéball from before and handed it to her. "It's a vaporeon. I caught it this morning. You've always talked about how you wanted one."
"Ash," she said before pausing. "Ash, I really don't know what to say?"
"You like it?" Ash asked, hoping he didn't sound as desperate as he thought he did.
"Of course I like it! It's the best present anybody has ever given me." With that, she reached over and hugged him. He stiffened at first, but then relaxed, basking in the feeling of her so close to him.
"Misty Waterflower," the intercom suddenly called her name. Misty broke her hug and tilted her head to listen. "Misty Waterflower, you have a phone call at the front desk."
"That must be my sisters. They said in their last letter than they might try and call today. Let me go see, and I'll be right back."
"Ok, Misty," Ash said, trying to hide his disappointment that their "moment" had been interrupted.
"Thank you again," Misty said as she stood up.
"No problem Misty. What are friends for?"
Ash watched as she left the cafeteria.
"Finally going to make a move, huh?" Brock asked, startling Ash.
"What are you talking about? Can't a friend give a friend a present for her birthday?"
"Sure they can," he replied, his voice full of friendly sarcasm.
Ash didn't know why, but he didn't feel comfortable talking to Brock about his feelings. It wasn't that he didn't trust him; far from it. It was just too private and personal. Thankfully, Brock didn't push the subject, and the friends spent several minutes in silence until Misty returned.
She looked nervous as she took her seat. Ash noticed at once something wasn't right. "What's wrong? Something happen at the gym?"
"No," she said softly. "Well, sort of."
Brock began to look concerned as well. "What happened?"
"Well," she began, "you know my sisters have been running our gym since our parents were killed in a car wreck when I was eight."
"Yeah," Ash replied, realizing he most likely was not going to like where this was leading.
"They enjoy running the gym and all, I mean they love all the attention. But, after all this time, they're started to find other things. Daisy has been dating a guy from Viridian for awhile now and it looks like it its getting serious. Violet and Lily have been wanting to go the Pokémon Institute for years and really want to sign up for the fall semester. Of course someone needs to be there to run the gym."
The sinking feeling in his chest told Ash for certain that he didn't like where this was going.
"Being as it's my birthday and I'm turning 15, they figured I'm old enough to run the gym if I wanted to. That's why they called. They offered it all to me." She paused, but Ash, nor Brock it seemed, could find anything to say.
The silence around the table was almost painful. Misty, evidently still not sure how to take the news herself, looked down at the table and made fleeting glances around the room. Brock looked as if he was trying his very best to find something helpful to say. Ash just sat in silent shock, just attempting to figure out what had just happened to turn his world upside down.
"So," Brock said, finally breaking the silence, "What are you going to do?"
Ash didn't understand at first. Of course she was going to take her sisters' offer. She had always wanted to run the gym. Now was her chance. But then he thought, she didn't have to accept after all. She could say no and stay with them-with him-and continue their journey. Her sisters would just have to find someone else. Everything would be ok. No, Ash thought. No it wouldn't be. Although it would make him very happy, he knew that it would put her sisters in a bind and might even threaten the gym, two things Misty would never do willingly.
"I don't know," Misty answered. She turned to Ash with a look of hope and uncertainty. "What do you think I should do, Ash? Should I go?"
If he said no, would she stay? Just because he had given her a birthday present? She didn't know the feelings that had led him to get it for her? He hadn't even known their full extent until this moment. She didn't know how that his heart yearned for the day that their friendship might grow into something more. He was only 14; he wasn't supposed to know what love was yet. The feelings he felt were only supposed to hormones on overdrive. How could he explain it to even himself that he was right and the world was wrong?
And even if she did stay, then what? He would, everyday, feel the guilt of keeping her away from her dream, after for four years she had followed him along on the way to his. And she, he knew, would feel the guilt of letting her sisters down when they had needed her. Did he even have a right to stop her?
He looked into her eyes, hoping for any kind of inspiration. He looked down quickly, fearing his own eyes would reveal his secrets.
"Yes," he said. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He head felt as if he had stood up too quickly. He barely heard himself continue. "You've always wanted to run the gym, Misty. You should do what makes you happy."
"Ok, Ash," she replied.
He forced himself to face her. Try as he might, he couldn't read her emotions. He would have given ten years of his life just to know what she was thinking at that very moment. But of course, he couldn't make such a deal.
"Ok, Ash, I'll go."
We couldn't make them,
So we had to break them,
Words that we couldn't say.
Ash closed the journal and glanced out the window. The sun had fallen below the horizon, they sky now turning the same deep purple as the mountains. Through a break in the clouds he could just make out a lone star, silently twinkling, before the clouds obscured it once more.
Ash stood up and stretched his arms. He walked over to his bed and flopped down lazily, reaching over for the television remote off his nightstand. He looked at the alarm clock, 7 p.m.
"Not much on," he said to himself. Even so, he turned on the television and began to quickly click through the channels in search of something interesting. Everyone used to tell him that he did it too fast, but if something didn't catch his eye in one or two seconds, he had always figured, it probably wasn't worth watching. After several minutes and several full cycles through the channels, he decided to try some of his favorite channels once more before giving up. On channel 35, which had been on commercial each time he had passed it before, "Pokémon Classics" was about to begin. He had already seen every episode and the new season wasn't supposed to begin until the next fall, but as there wasn't anything else on, he set down the remote and decided to watch.
"Welcome to another edition of Pokémon Classics," the host began. "Tonight we will examine one of the most interesting characters of recent pokémon history." Ash knew instantly which episode this was. He reached for the remote, but stopped at the last second before turning off the television. "He was the youngest person ever to become Pokémon Master, winning the Masters' Tournament as the age of 16. Many of you know his name, but little is known about this man other than has been written in newspaper tabloids. Tonight, for the first time, you will hear the real story, the true story, of Pokémon Master, Ash Ketchum." With that, the show went to commercial.
It had been taped when he 19, just when he beginning to set his life back in order. At first he hadn't wanted to do it, but his therapist has said it might be helpful. After awhile, he had actually gotten enthused with the whole project, and had begged his friends to help, by that time desperate for anything that might help him. To his-and everyone else's-surprise, it had.
Pokémon Classics returned from commercial. "Many of you know Ash Ketchum as the youngest Pokémon Master ever," the host began again. "Others have heard the tales of how he was almost stripped of his title one year later due to reckless behavior and would eventually end up in therapy. That is not the whole story, however. Tonight we will follow the tale of a young boy, like so many others, who left his home in the small town of Pallet to begin his pokémon journey. Along the way he made friends, most notably, Brock Slate and Misty Waterflower. You will hear how he traveled through the Indigo, Orange, and Johto leagues. You will hear how in one fateful evening, his world was destroyed when-" The host's voice suddenly stopped as the television blanked out. Ash, remote in hand, had changed his mind; he didn't feel like watching TV anymore.
Sometimes baby,
We make mistakes,
Dark and hazy,
Prices we pay.
Ash sat on his bed in the room that he and Brock were sharing at the pokémon center. He couldn't think of anything else to do. When Misty had agreed to go back to Cerulean City, he hadn't realized how soon she would be going. It turned out that Misty's sisters had bought her a bus ticket to Cerulean for that evening. Ash had been hoping that he, Misty, and Brock could walk back to Cerulean together. Now, she was already gone.
Ash lay back on the same bed that he had woken up in that same day early in the morning to go catch a pokémon for his best friend's birthday. How had things changed so fast?
He heard a toilet flush and the bathroom door opened. Brock walked out. "Want to do anything, Ash? We could go out to eat."
Ash sighed and sat up. "No thanks. I'm not hungry."
Brock nodded and sat down on the bed next to him. "Want to talk about anything?"
Ash had always looked up to Brock as a big brother of sorts. Although Brock's luck with girls was practically nonexistent, he always seemed to have a bit of good advice on whatever was troubling Ash at the time. Brock had always been the cool head-not counting the times when a pretty girl happened by-of their trio and had been called in to referee more fights between he and Misty than Ash cared to remember.
"Not really."
"Come on, Ash."
Ash sighed again. "I missed her Brock. It's only been a couple of hours since she left and I already miss her. For the last four years she's always been around, even when I didn't want her there. When she would go home for the holidays and stuff, I knew that she would be back soon enough. This time," he said before pausing, "she's not coming back."
Brock was quiet for several moments. "When did you first realize?" Brock asked quietly.
"Realize what?"
"That you liked her more than a friend."
"I don't know what-" Ash began quickly, but stopped himself. Why deny it now? What was the point? "I don't know. I mean you don't just wake up one morning and realize, 'Hey! I'm in love with my best friend.'"
Brock chuckled. "No, I don't suppose you do. So why didn't you tell her?"
"I don't know. I guess I was afraid that is I told her and she didn't feel the same way, it would ruin our friendship. I couldn't risk that."
Brock didn't say anything, but nodded as if to agree with his reasoning. He paused for a while before asking, "So why did you tell her she should go?"
Ash had known that Brock was going to ask that sooner or later. "It was her chance Brock. She had been helping me on the way to my dream for four years. Four years! This was her chance to go after hers. I had no right to stand in her way!" She was almost shouting by the end.
Brock seemed shocked by his outburst. After a moment he said, a smile forming on his face, "Ash, you're going to make some girl very happy one day. And believe me, you and Misty, there's a real possibility there. Remember, you're talking to the person who's been around you two for most of those four years."
"But-"
"Ash! It's not she's moving to another planet or something. She's back home. That's what? Six days travel? There's nothing stopping you from going to visit her. I mean, you're in between leagues at the moment. Why not give her a week or two to get settled in back at Cerulean, than we can go pay her a visit. I'm betting she would be just as happy to see you."
Ash started to brighten up. "Yeah," he said more to himself than to Brock.
"And if you want, once we get there, you and her can have a little chat to talk about things. I'm sure it would turn out better than you're fearing."
Anything was better than how he felt now. "Ok, Brock. It's a deal."
"Good," he said smiling. "I was afraid I was going to have to travel around with you moping all over the place."
Further conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. Instinctively, they both gave a quick "come in." It was Nurse Jenny.
"Brock Slate?" Jenny asked.
"That's me," Brock said, standing up, not very subtlety checking his hair in the mirror on the wall.
"You have a phone call. The phone is this room is out of order. You can take the call in the lobby."
"Ok," he replied, probably happy for a reason to follow the pink-haired nurse. He turned to Ash. "I'll be right back."
"Alright."
Brock followed Jenny out the door and Ash was alone again. What Brock has said made sense. Until today, Ash hadn't been really aware of how much he felt about Misty. Brock was right. When he did go visit her, he was going to tell her how he felt. He had always been afraid to lose her, but now, if he didn't say anything, he was definitely going to lose her. Back in Cerulean, unaware of his feelings, she might meet someone else. Ash couldn't let that happen, at least not without telling her first.
Ash lay back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. He had never had feelings about someone like this before. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. If his father were still around, he could have asked him. There was no way he was going to talk to his mom about this.
After a while, he began to wonder what was keeping Brock. Another two or three minutes passed before Ash heard someone opening the door. The door swung outward slowly. Brock walked in, not saying a word. He didn't have to. The look in on his face and the tears streaming from his eyes was enough to send Ash to his feet.
"What's wrong?" Ash asked, instantly concerned. He couldn't remember ever seeing Brock cry before.
"Ash," Brock began before his voice cracked.
"Something happen at home?"
"No, Ash," he replied, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt, leaving two dark trails on the material. "It's about-" His voice broke again. "It's about Misty."
"Misty! What happened?"
"The bus. The bus crashed."
This couldn't be happening. Just like her parents, a voice said, invading his mind. No! She couldn't be… The bus crashed, but she's alright. Just because it crashed doesn't mean she was hurt. But why was Brock crying? He wouldn't be crying if she were ok, the voice spoke again. Shut up! Ash shouted back. Fine, she was hurt, but would be ok in the end. She had to be.
"That was Daisy. She called to tell us. She said it was all over the news." Ash glanced over at the blank television. "The driver just lost control. The news said that they brakes might have gone out."
Why won't he tell me how she is? Tell me Brock! Ash could feel the tears rolling down his face.
Brock continued his grim narrative as if it was the only thing keeping his from falling apart. "The bus rolled down a ravine. It took awhile for the rescue crew to reach it."
Tell me. Tell me she's ok. She's hurt, but ok. Brock, why won't you tell me she's ok? I have to know she's ok. Ash opened his mouth but only a strangled sob came out. He tried again but couldn't form the words.
"She," Brock started. "She was sitting in the front. When the bus went over-" He issued an almost inhuman groan. "She's didn't make it, Ash. Misty, she's dead Ash."
No. No. No! NO!
"God Ash, I'm sorry, but I knew I had to be the one that told you." Having delivered his grim news, he seemed to lose all energy and slumped backwards into a chair, fresh tears rolling down his face.
To Ash, the room seemed to be spinning. She couldn't be dead. Misty couldn't be dead.
"She can't be dead."
The words startled Brock so much he almost fell over.
"Ash," he began.
"No! You don't understand. She can't be dead!" Brock seemed to grow several feet taller suddenly. Ash might have fallen over, but he couldn't tell. "She can't be dead," he repeated.
Brock looked at him sadly, unable to reply.
"She can't die on her birthday," Ash cried, barely a whimper.
I sit here on my shelf,
Talking to myself,
Words that we couldn't say.
Ash lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. He had slept under more than his share of ceilings during his life. When he was young it had been the one in his room in the small house he shared with his mother in Pallet Town. During his journey, he had spent many nights with only the night sky above. Even then there had been the odd pokémon center or a kindly stranger's home. After becoming Pokémon Master, he had slept in so many different hotel rooms they all blurred together, like so many things about that period in his life.
Ash sighed. Not even his therapist, he supposed, would be too upset with him being depressed today. Nine years. It had been the same every time since, some worse than others. The day, like so many others, was very different if only for one very important reason. It shared the same date as the day during which Misty Waterflower had been born. And it shared the same date on which she had died.
He sat up, got off the bed, and walked back over to the window. Darkness had replaced the vibrant colors that had filled the sky a short while before. The clouds had moved on leaving the sky filled with thousands of stars, all twinkling to their own rhythm.
It was time. Quietly he left his bedroom and walked down the stairs. The living was dark as he passed through it on his way to the back door. The early spring air greeted him as he left his home and entered the flower garden behind. He didn't bother to lock the door. The garden was bathed in silver moonlight, giving each leaf its own shine. Ash followed a stone footpath that meandered through trees and large shrubs until he reached a good sized artificial pond. Beside the pond there was a stone bench and when he walked up to it, he sat down.
How long he sat there, he wasn't sure. He just let the sounds of nature wash over him. He heard the distant cry of a pidgy and the bubbling of several goldeen from the pond. Only the slightest hint of light on the southern horizon gave any clue that there were other people in the world.
He looked upward at the sky. There was one more thing he needed to do that night.
Someday, maybe,
We'll make it right,
Until that day,
Long endless nights.
The wooden bench beneath him was unyielding and uncomfortable, but Ash hardly noticed. The cemetery stretched out all around him. With all the times that he had visited Cerulean City-the first to compete for a league badge and the rest with Misty as she visited her sisters-he was surprised to have seen this place before. In fact, Ash couldn't remember seeing a cemetery in any of the cities they had visited during their journeys. How did people hide these places without actually hiding them? Maybe he had just never noticed them before. What use did a 14-year-old have for death? It had never really even crossed his mind, even with all the dangerous situations they had faced over the years. Until now, that is.
It had been two days since Misty had died; two hours since Ash had watched her placed into the ground. She had only been 15.
The sky was a wonderful blue. In fact, it was a beautiful day. What few clouds there were lazily made there way across the sky with no care at all. Why did it all have to look so happy? There was nothing to be happy about. As far as he was concerned, there would be nothing ever again to be happy about.
He was about tell this to the sky most forcibly when he heard someone approaching. He turned to see Daisy, Misty's oldest sister, walking up to him. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hair had the same disheveled look it had since he and Brock had arrived the day before.
"Hi," he managed to say.
She forced a smile and sat down on the bench next to him. The silence grew as neither seemed to be able to find something to say.
"Our parents are buried over that hill," Daisy said, nodding towards a small rise to the north. She seemed just as surprised to be speaking as Ash was to hear her. "We had wanted to bury her next to them, but they're weren't any open plots. It just wasn't something we had ever planned on. I mean…" she trailed off.
"Yeah," Ash said, not knowing what else to say.
"I hadn't seen her much over the last couple of years." She looked down toward the ground before quickly adding, "Not that I'm blaming you. She was where she wanted to be."
"Yeah, but if she hadn't been following me around, she wouldn't be dead," Ash said bitterly.
"Don't blame yourself, Ash," Daisy said, sounding much like his mother when she did. "Lily blamed herself too. It was her idea to ask Misty to come back and run the gym. But you know what I told her?"
"What?" he asked glumly.
"Nobody, not Lily, not you, not anybody could have made Misty do anything that she didn't want to do. I know that from experience. Am I wrong?"
"No," Ash admitted. "I suppose you're right."
The silence threatened to return.
"You loved my sister, didn't you? And I don't mean just as a friend."
Ash was so shocked by the sudden question that he answered before thinking. "Yes."
"I thought so," she replied. Her face showed a mixture of pain, sadness, and… Ash couldn't place the other emotion. Where had he seen that look before? Then Ash knew. It was the look his mother gave him when she was proud of something he had done.
"Well, Ash. You take care of yourself now. You're strong. Follow your dream. Misty had confidence in you, and she knew how to pick 'em."
Still confused, Ash watched her walk away. It was then that he noticed that she had left something, a small book, lying on the bench beside him. He almost shouted to her, but he noticed a note attached to it.
Ash,
I give you this because I believe Misty would have wanted you to know. Remember Ash, live you life to the fullest. She wouldn't want you to do any less.
Daisy
Ash picked up the book. Why had she given this to him? He opened it to find page after page filled with small neat handwriting. It was a diary. It was Misty's diary! Did he have any right to read this? He didn't think so, but then why had Daisy given this to him? He flipped through and stopped on a random page.
Dear Diary,
Today Ash and I got into a fight. Brock had to practically pull us apart.
He stopped reading and closed the diary. He couldn't do this. He couldn't read it. But even as he told himself this, he opened it back again. He flipped to another page.
Dear Diary,
Today Rudy asked me to stay with him. I don't know what to do. He seems nice if a bit arrogant. Sort of like someone I know. In fact, Ash and Rudy have a lot in common when I think about it. The main difference is I'm not in love with Rudy.
Again Ash put down the diary. Had he read that right? No, he had to be wrong. She didn't say that she loved him, just that she didn't love Rudy. He tried to the replay that time back in his mind, but he couldn't get a clear picture. Was this why Daisy had given him the diary? Misty would have wanted you to know, she had said.
He started reading again. Page after page he read. Many of the events Misty had written about he remembered himself, if differently. It was strange to see someone else's view on them. Sometimes he read whole entries, sometimes only parts.
After a time it became harder to read her handwriting. It took Ash awhile to realize that it was because he was crying.
When Ash finally did look up from the diary, the sun had moved across the sky. He was shocked to see that three hours has passed while he had been locked in the diary.
There was no denying it. Misty has loved him. She had said it many times in her diary. He had read how she first realized her feelings, so much like he had found his. Her words at times seemed to mirror his own. If only he had known. If only she had known. So many things could have been different. If only he hadn't told her to go. Unable to clear his mind, he returned to the diary.
He turned the page to see how long the current entry was. It was a bit longer than most. Ash stared at the page. The next page was blank. And the next. And the next. Ash flipped back to the beginning of the last entry. There had been times before when there had been whole weeks between entries. He hadn't realized how close to the present he had come. Written in the date line at the top of the page, in the same carefully written handwriting were the words, "April 22nd."
She must have written it just before she left for the bus. He had come this far. He couldn't stop now. The more he looked at the date, the more he wanted to just close the diary and given it back to Daisy. But like before, he couldn't. He had to know. Feeling darkly like a peeping tom, he started to read her last entry.
Dear Diary,
Today is my birthday. It's been awhile since I wrote to you. I haven't forgotten about you, it's just been so busy. Well, I better get started, a lot has happened today. I still don't know if I made the right choice.
When I woke up this morning, Ash was gone. At first I wasn't too worried, but then I remembered how much trouble he could get into when he was alone. I found Brock eating breakfast and he told me not to worry. I was about to go out and look for him when he showed up with this silly grin on his face. I knew something was up from the first moment I saw him.
When he got to the table he looked nervous. As always, we almost got into a fight, but then he stopped himself. I was about to ask him what was wrong when he handed me a pokéball and wished me a happy birthday. Then he told me it was a vaporeon, and that he had caught it that morning. I couldn't believe. It was one of the best presents anybody had ever got me. And it was from Ash! I almost jumped up and kissed him right there in the middle of the pokémon center cafeteria. What a mess that would have made of things. If only I knew how he truly felt about me, I would know what to do. I know, you're probably sick of me saying that, huh? But today was really different. The way he looked at me, I almost thought that he was about to tell me something.
Here I was just waiting, and what happens? I get a page!! I could have ripped that intercom right out of the wall. Even Ash looked a bit disappointed.
And this is only the beginning. The call was from my sisters. They all wished me a happy birthday. I was about to say goodbye to them since I wanted to get back to Ash and besides, they were giving me a headache with all of their like's, when they broke the news. It turns out that Daisy and Richard are getting serious and Violet and Lily are wanting to go to P.I. And that would leave no one to run the gym, so they offered it to me.
The problem was, and still is, I didn't know what to do. I mean I have always wanted to run the gym. It's practically a dream come true. The thing is, I didn't want to leave Ash, at least not until I was sure about how he felt about me.
After I told Ash and Brock about the news, Ash was very quiet. I knew he'd be surprised, but his reaction still was not what I was expecting. I began to wonder again if he really did like me.
So I did the only thing I could think of. I asked Ash if he thought I should go. Looking back, I guess it was unfair to do that to him, but what else could I do? If he would only say no, I would stay.
If that was my plan, then it backfired, because he said yes. Did he say that because he really wanted me to go? Or he did think that was what he thought I wanted to hear?
I don't know. Brock told me before I left that Ash was upset, but by then I had already called my sisters back and told them I was going.
I don't know why I did what I did next. Maybe because Brock was being so understanding like always, or maybe it was because I was leaving, but I started to tell him everything. Before I knew it, I had told him everything I have been trying to hide for the last three years. Honestly, he didn't seem that surprised, if only for how much I did feel for Ash.
He promised me that he wouldn't tell Ash, and I know he won't. But he did say that he would suggest to Ash that the two of them come visit me in two weeks, and if I want, I can tell him everything then. He told me that it would be the best thing to do, and honestly, I am beginning to agree with him.
If I don't tell Ash, and one day he finds someone else, I'll never know for sure. It's too late not to tell him.
Well, diary, I think I will stop now. I'm on the bus back to Cerulean, and we have another couple of hours till we get there. After everything that has happened today, I'm pretty tired. I might even try to take a nap, but I doubt I will get any sleep.
Until next time.
Love, Misty Waterflower
Ash stared at the page long after he finished reading it. Misty has written that while on the bus, only hours, perhaps even minutes, before she died. She had taken time to write in her diary, even if at the time she hadn't known it would be for the last time.
Another shock came across him. Brock had known. By the time Ash had had his outburst in the pokémon center, Misty has already revealed her secrets. That was why he was so sure the visit to Cerulean would go so well.
A few days from now, he would have been leaving for this very city. And then what would have happened? Would he and Misty have professed their love to each other? It didn't matter, because it would never happen now. But somehow, Ash knew that wasn't true. It did matter. And he would never forget what could have been.
We couldn't say them,
So now we just pray them,
Words that we couldn't say.
The stars continued to twinkle, equally unaware of the date and day as the sky had been so many years before.
Ash had tried to follow Daisy's advice, knowing that it was right. He continued his journey. It was never the same, but he did, on occasion, find himself enjoying it again. Perhaps the best part of the constant traveling, training, and battling was that it kept him too busy to dwell on the past all the time.
And then, two months after his sixteenth birthday, he had found himself in the Masters' Tournament. There he became the youngest Pokémon Master ever.
That was when the problems began. After the initial firestorm of interviews and photo ops, he suddenly had a lot of time on his hands to think about Misty and everything that he had lost.
He had been almost able to control it, but then a tabloid had found out about Misty and had thought that the tragic almost love story would be a great article to keep alive the waning buzz around his win. Before he knew it, reporters from around the world were hassling him for any details around Misty. It was being labeled one of the saddest stories of the year, and he couldn't handle it. Still on the master circuit, he found himself one night at an official party, and he picked up a drink, something he had never done before. It's amazing how quickly fame can make some laws fade away. Within a couple of weeks, his drinks were becoming a regular part of his evening.
April 22 arrived again, and it only intensified people's morbid interest in his sorrow. Ash found himself drunk that night, like most night, but this time he decided to take a drive. On an empty stretch of highway north of Viridian City, he managed to wrap his car around a tree after crashing into it at over 100 mph.
Instantly rumors surfaced that it had been a suicide attempt. Even Brock has questioned him about it. He denied it, but the fact was, Ash couldn't remember. Everything about that night was a complete blank. Although he never admitted it anyone else, privately he believed he had tried to kill himself. He still did.
After the accident, there had been a hearing. Between the accident and his underage drinking, he was almost stripped of his title. Once he was release from the hospital, he started therapy. He was scared. He was scared of what he might have done. He was even more scared of might he might try to do in the future.
It took three years, but he finally got his life back together. His therapist had kept trying to tell him that one day he would be able to put Misty behind him and find love with someone else. Although he considered himself "cured", he knew the day would never come when he could love anyone but Misty. It wasn't living in the past, he argued to himself. No. He was living for the future.
He had never been the most religious of people, but he had always believed there was something after death. After Misty died, he clung to idea even more. It was a like a lifeline. She had to be somewhere, and if he was lucky enough, she would be waiting for him when he got there. It was what kept him going. Daisy had been right. Misty would have wanted him to live his life, but he would always keep a part of himself for her. Perhaps what scared him the most the night he had woken up in the hospital, his leg broken and memory blank, was that had he killed himself, she wouldn't have been there to greet him.
Ash looked back up at the sky. One of the reason he had bought this place was that it was far enough from town that the lights didn't obscure the stars, but close enough that he didn't have a long drive to the gym. His mother had wanted him to stay at his old home, as it had been empty since she had moved in with Professor Oak after their marriage.
No, he needed to see the stars.
About a month before Misty has died, Ash has awoke in the middle of the night to hear Misty crying. When he saw her, she was sitting in the middle of the camp looking up at the sky. Ash had gone over to her and asked what was wrong. She told him that it was six years to the day since her parents had been killed. She told him that as a child, her father had shown her a star. It was a star to which he prayed when he wanted to speak to his mother, who had died of cancer when he was young. Misty told Ash that when she was scared or worried, she would pray to that star and she knew her father could hear her. Ash has stayed with her the whole night, the two of them falling asleep next to the then burned out fire. Ash had come very close to confessing his feelings to her that night. A month later, he read that she had come close to doing the same thing to him.
There had been so many chances to tell her, but he hadn't.
Back in the garden, he found Misty's star.
"Hi Misty. It's been awhile since last time I talked to you," he said looking upward. "I hope you're doing well. Everything down here is going pretty good. Daisy just had her second daughter. She said she has your hair. If that's true, she will grow up into a beautiful woman."
As Ash continued to speak to the star, he thought of all the things he had wanted to tell Misty when she was alive, but hadn't had the courage. One day, he hoped, he would get another chance. For now, he could only do one thing. Pray.