There he is. In my thoughts again. When I thought my mind was finally clear and blank. When I thought I could finally get a decent amount of sleep tonight. There he is again. Bothering me with those same words. My memories began to fade into them, be captured by them, and be swallowed up by them. Nothing would be left and all I would hold onto are the questions I've asked hundreds of times before.

"This is so stupid."

I rolled off the mattress and slipped on a pair of nearby sandals. By the unbalanced feeling under my feet, I could tell that they weren't a matching pair. The instinctual mistake annoyed me. I tried to ignore it, but no more than three steps later – I tripped.

My hand caught onto the bedpost, stopping me from falling over completely. With a number of whispered curses, I kicked the sandals off my feet and decided to go barefoot.

He's in my thoughts even when I'm not on the bed – ruining my sense of balance and coordination.

"What a pain."

I took a deep breath in, trying to focus myself – trying to make myself more aware of my surroundings. I need to get a grip. I need a glass of water. Cold. Just to shock myself out of these thoughts.

Before I knew it, I was walking forward – tiptoeing carefully down the shadowed hallway so I wouldn't wake anyone up. I may be too bothered to sleep, but I won't bother anyone out of theirs. Not like him. Who's still bothering me now that I'm fully awake.

"Just get out my head already."

A familiar smell reached my nose, reminding me what I was doing. It was the smell of the kitchen – or rather, the kitchen tiles. They smelled clean, fresh, and absolutely cold. Placing just one of my feet on its marbled décor sent chills up my leg. But I walked on. I just want a drink. And I did want it cold. This freezing tingle running through my body should only help me.

Whispered reminders hung at the back of my mind, trying to tell me of why my kitchen was so clean – why my glassed cup was sparkling in the windowed moonlight – and why my refrigerator's water was so cold. But I didn't want to give them that attention. I just need a drink.

I gulped down the filled cup – wincing hard as the ice-cooled water sent shocks into my throat and lungs. My stomach squirmed, not wanting to be woken from its slothful state. The collective chill within my chest and lower half finally rushed to the top – subzero'ing my brain's functions until they were forced to reset.

And there it was. My peace and quiet. No more troubling thoughts. Who it was or what it was about – I don't care. I'm awake now. Fully awake. And as much as I wanted to sleep, it was better than letting those ideas work over my emotions again. I had my drink. I have my head clear. That's all that matters.

I put away the glass and quietly shuffled into the hallway again. After a few seconds of eye-adjustments to the darkness, I found the bathroom door. My fingers instinctively brushed the walls for the light switch, and I was welcomed by a bright glow – brighter than one I was used to. The light bulbs must have been changed – and I refuse to think of the one responsible. I don't need another drink. Now I just need to check on myself.

My eyes peered into the mirror, scanning my reflection for any imperfections. I wasn't by any definition a person you would call 'beautiful', but I knew there was a charm about me that needed to be maintained. If I want to keep my paycheck as high as it is, I need to look after myself – my looks probably earn half my income. Which reminded me that I needed to look through my clothes later.

There were bags under my eyes. And they've gotten worse.

It was nothing that a concealer, some powder, and a few vitamins couldn't hide, but the hammering physical evidence that I haven't been getting any sleep was worrying. My job requires perfection. Not only of body, but of mind, heart, and spirit. Even if I could fix the body and heart – my lack of sleep is going to ruin my mind and spirit eventually. But I couldn't do anything about that at this point. Forcing sleep is even worse on one's spirit than losing it. The least I could do was to make the best of my awake and aware state of mind.

And with that, I turned away from the mirror and aimed for my closet room. Hopefully last week's clothes have been cleaned and prepped. I really want to see if I can combine that coat with the new slacks I bought over the weekend.

My distracted ideas for outfits and uniforms made me temporarily forget that it was still the middle of the night. My loud footsteps creaked into silence when an open doorway gave me that reminder.

"Whoops. Almost forgot."

I leaned in and reached for the doorknob, planning to close it as quietly as I could.

"Sorry about all the noise, guys. I'll just…"

And just when I had forgotten what I had been trying to ignore – the physical manifestation of those bothersome thoughts struck my eyes like a predictable train wreck: Within the room, a room that had only been recently cleaned and organized, slept three boys. Two of them were my younger siblings. And one was no boy at all. It was Ash.

His body was draped over the two, having fallen asleep in his tired attempt to put a blanket over them. It was an endearing sight. One that I wish I had never seen.

Questions came into my mind that I had hoped to have drowned out… Ideas and thoughts that I desired gone were now back in full force… And his words. His stupid words. Were bothering me again.

I closed the door quietly.

I sighed as I pressed my back against the wall, recalling more than a year's worth of memories.

Ash… Ash Ketchum.

He was a boy I had only known as a friend of my old rival. A sort of on-and-off-again friend that had acted as a third wheel in that fun relationship. He had his charm and he had his ways, but as a person that participated in both Battles and Contests, I found him too indecisive and wishy-washy to be of any interest to me. And though he proved his worth in both fields eventually, I still only saw him as just a side-friend. He had other rivals to contend with, other friends to chat with, and other matters to deal with.

And so did I. So we were just acquaintances – too busy for the other to consider as anything else.

Yet when I needed help… he was the only one to readily appear.

My parents passed away years ago, taken away from my world by a terrible accident. In their death, they left two boys. Two boys that were way too young to have lost their mom and dad. They spent only a miniscule amount of time of their lives with them, but that time was engraved into their subconscious. They're going to have problems with it in the future, especially during their teens, everyone knows it.

I knew it too. And though they were better off with some foster parents in some nice home, I took them into mine. I was no parent, that much was obvious, but if these two ever reached the point where they want to ask what ma and pa were like: I'll be there to tell them everything.

But like I said: I was no parent. Though I was a legal adult by the time the kids were finally put under my care – and though I already had a great paying job that could more than support all three of us: I had no idea how to take care of kids. Especially little boys.

True enough that I wasn't exactly a girlish figure and didn't know much about dolls and dresses – but I honestly had no clue how anyone's supposed to raise a boy in the first place. Girls were more of my thing. I knew exactly what to say to them and when to say it to them. Compliments, encouragements, life lessons, friendships, loves – all that stuff? I knew how to care for girls with that kind of thing.

But boys? I had no clue. They were 'different'. Even if I was a tomboy, it didn't make me any more aware of what boys really wanted and needed. And even if I did, it still wouldn't have helped me take care of two toddlers. I've never even taken care of one toddler. I've never even held a baby in my hands.

It was too much for me. The two boys would cry for ma and pa every other hour. They would fight each other over things I didn't even know happened. And they made a mess of things that shouldn't have ever been messed with. Just having them around me was ruining my career. And the price for three skyrocketed when a babysitter was suddenly involved. Shopping, schedules, repairs, and stresses of all sorts began to pick away at my sanity.

But what could I do? I wasn't going to abandon my little brothers. I wasn't going to let them grow up angry and depressed over things they'll never know how to express. I was going to be there for them. No matter what. But that 'matter what' was beyond me… I needed help.

Call after call was made – favor after favor was asked for. I was contacting old friends and a few distant family members. I was searching for help, but from people that wouldn't make too big of a deal about it. I knew that if any of my uncles or aunts found out that their 'uncouth niece' was having trouble with raising her little brothers, they would have had a field day with my reputation. I was in need, but I wasn't willing to bet my dignity for it.

And that's when trouble came knocking on my door…

A call to good ol' Dawn had fallen short of any support – as she was too busy in a Contest Ring to help me anytime soon. But she sent a reinforcement my way: Ash Ketchum.

The guy Trainer had just retired from his travelling, wanting to 'take a break' from his dreams of becoming a Pokémon Master after years of trying to cope with the age-given expiration of Pikachu. As such, he had been going from one job to another, region after region, trying to find his niche. And I guessed that my call's request for Dawn had been passed to him.

At first, I didn't like the idea of having some down-trodden Trainer taking care of my little brothers just because he needed a job. But I couldn't refuse him at that moment. My poor asking price was rejected by far too many people and my job was close to kicking me out from too many days of absence. I was in no position to refuse help.

It was by curious surprise that I found that Ash had a natural skill at parenting. His friends, mostly the females that expressed a romantic interest in him, would often brag that his care and love for pokémon would make him a great father. I paid that fact no mind then, as I had no care for having kids of my own. But now I can't live without it.

For a year and a half, Ash had been looking after my little brothers. Caring for them, feeding them, playing with them, teaching them, and overall raising them. They looked up to him greatly, always begging him to tell them of his adventures outside of the region. I admit that even I found myself sitting and listening to his addicting stories every now and again. Fact was, he became a heavy influence in their lives – a positive one – and there was no measure for the gratitude I felt towards it.

About a year ago, I asked him to move in with me – so he could look after the two more often. Truthfully, I asked him because I wanted him to move out of that awful apartment he'd been living in. My payments for him were still relatively low, which prevented him from affording a better living condition. If he moved in with me, however, my already-paid-for residence would have been what he deserved under my awful price of service. He gladly accepted, though noting that he was doing it for the kids – not so he could take advantage of my house's comforts.

Whether he liked it or not, however, I made him take advantage of it. Over the time I had spent with him and my siblings, I had grown to admire him greatly. He made my house into a home. He made my hectic schedules into a relaxed agenda. He made my desperate orphaned brothers into happy little boys. He made my breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. He made my bed. Cleaned my house. Washed my clothes. Made everything livable into something amazing and spectacular. Holidays became fun and fascinating with him. Days off to the park, mall, and zoo became astounding adventures. And every day of my life felt special… when I was around him.

My home was his to use. My home was his place to call home. And I dearly wanted my home to become 'our home'.

He and I had grown very close over that time. Impossibly close. I never thought I'd look at a man the way I did for him. But he wasn't just a man to me. He was Ash Ketchum. And I wanted to share his last name.

But Ash refused. Or rather: avoided.

The topic of being in a relationship was often sidestepped away from. Serious conversations would end quickly with carefully-timed jokes forcing us into a chuckle. Intimate moments were dodged by last-minute chores he just remembered to return to. And any physical interaction that was beyond 'just friends' would cause him to somehow 'disappear' for the rest of the day.

It was frustrating, to say the least. There we were, two grown individuals – a lifetime of efforts and experiences behind us – and he was still acting like a shy child to my romantic efforts. Somehow, someway, I had ended up falling for a man who was running from me like a girl – and was expecting me to chase. I don't chase, however. I never chase. It was childish. Adolescent. Stupid. His immaturity caused me to drop the subject entirely – accepting the fact that we were two adults that just happened to live in the same house. No more. No less.

We moved on. Time passed with us experiencing life together as a family – but there was a strange coldness to it. We were distant and becoming even more distant. My siblings had noticed it first, and would often ask us about it. Our answers were usually vague and had nothing to do with the subject – not wanting to cause them any further grief or worry.

And without grief or worry, we moved on. I still had my brothers under my roof, I still had my career under my belt, and I still had my sanity intact. Even if slightly awkward: Life was still good. And it would continue moving forward in the direction I had always planned for.

That was, until last week.

It was a week like any other week, but the day was hot unlike the others, and the air conditioner was broken. After eating dinner indoors, Ash had moved the kids out onto the balcony – letting them relax under the cool night air. In time, my brothers fell soundly asleep, sprawled onto the makeshift blanket-beds set beside the chairs. The atmosphere looked welcoming, and so I joined them.

Pulling out a chair for myself, I had sat beside Ash and breathed in the cold outdoor scent. I was going to have a nonchalant conversation with him. About my day. About his day. About the kids' day. Those kinds of topics. The kinds of topics I always ended my days with. It was supposed to end like any other day.

But somehow the subject had changed to something we hadn't conversed about in months: Why was he still staying with us. We were talking about his savings and about how he could finally afford to move into a nicer place by himself. We were talking about how the boys were finally responsible enough to be left with respectable strangers. And about how I could afford a professional nanny with my recent raise. I pressed on him to move on. That I was keeping him locked up in our lives. That he could be out there, living the life he truly wanted and desired.

"But that's right here." he replied to me quietly, "I found out that… I just want to be with you."

I found myself at a loss for words. Nervous emotions erupted inside me, making me see him in the way I had seen him so many months ago. It annoyed me. I was just through with him. Through with those feelings. And he suddenly brought them back out of nowhere.

I wanted to yell at him. Scream at him for his indecisive relationship with me. Roar at him that I tried – tried so hard just for him to agree to the sentiment that we were more than 'just friends' – and that he was just too scared to commit. I wanted to tell him it was too late – that I was already seeing someone else. I started dating someone else. And I was going to invite them over for dinner that following night.

"You deserve someone better than me though… I'll look around. Maybe find a new apartment by the end of the month. I don't want to hold your life back either." were his last words to my held silence.

With a pat on my shoulder and a quiet sliding of the door, he left the balcony and went inside the guest room for the night. And I was just left with his words.

Broken away from those memories, the words haunted me again. Like they had haunted me so many nights in a row.

For days, I avoided eye contact with Ash. I'd only give him some instructions for the kids and tell him when I'd be back from work or an errand. I even told him about my date. He only congratulated me.

My back slid down the hallway's cold wall, sitting me against the freezing wooden flooring. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. But those emotions were immature, adolescent. I felt like I was a young girl again, blushing over a dramatic love triangle that left me lost and confused. Except, I was never a young girl. I've never had these kinds of feelings before. I was a tomboy, and now I was a full grown woman. I didn't have time for these annoying and bothersome thoughts. I had a career, I had a reputation. This was just unnecessary heartache that he forced on me. Like how he forced himself into my life.

I didn't ask for Ash to help me.

I didn't ask for Ash to make me feel this way.

I just wanted to be here for my little brothers. To see them grow up and be strong, confident individuals. But now they were more than just that… They've accidentally called me 'ma' and Ash 'pa'. The stories of my parents that I was going to pass on to them, were now replaced with stories of Ash's life and mine. They wanted to grow up under our care – under our love.

It wouldn't be the same if he left.

That's why I couldn't sleep. That's why I couldn't dream. Just his words would haunt me awake.

"I just want to be with you." would strike at my heart, making me want to shout in agreement and latch onto him like a lost child.

"You deserve someone better than me though…" would strike at my spirit, making me hate my reputation and pride for ever making him feel that way.

"…by the end of the month." would strike constantly at my mind. The end of the month was just in a few days.

He already found an apartment. It looked nice. I promised to rent him a truck to move his belongings. He thanked me for it.

I already found a nanny with a great reputation. And she was cheap to hire too. She's supposed to start work the morning after Ash leaves.

And my date was planning to take me out on a cruise in the following month – to celebrate my raise.

This was how my life was supposed to go, right? It was supposed to be my mom and dad's lives and stories that were supposed to be remembered by my brothers. Ash was supposed to only help temporarily until I could afford a real professional to take care of them. And I was supposed to just move forward in my career… Contests in the Sinnoh region are going through a major change at the moment, and I'm supposed to be helping with that change.

Everything's going according to plan. But everything's just ending up so wrong now.

For once, I don't care about Contests. I haven't cared about them in days. Every day I find myself bored in work – all of it feeling shallow and mundane. Even the most spectacular performances from the new Coordinators aren't giving me that sense of excitement and thrill anymore. As if the energy is being sucked right out of me.

I haven't slept. That was my excuse. Insomnia was my crutch to show the world.

But that wasn't it. I could have slept at any time. I just… haven't wanted to. I've been ignoring a side of me. An immature, stupid, childish, and idiotic side of myself. She keeps screaming at me to 'stop him', to 'tell him', to 'be with him' before it's too late.

But Ash is a bother. He's helped my brothers cope with their loss, but is inadvertently making them forget who their parents were. He's helped with my schedules and tasks and ideas for my career as a Contest Judge, but would only hurt my image to the public for being associated with a 'has-been Trainer'. And he's given me a sense of family and understanding of myself that I've never experienced before, but he's making me like… this.

I ended up crying. Sobbing. Groaning into my hands as I wept. I've never cried before. Not like this. The pathetic mewls that escaped my lips made me remember that even if I'm not a sensitive woman, I'm still a girl by heart. As headstrong and prideful as I was, I was weak and pathetic when things crashed and burned around me. I may have always been independent, but I found myself begging to be saved from this moment. I didn't know what to do. I don't know what to do.

For all my life, I fought against 'traditions' that were forced on me. The way I dressed, the way I acted, none of it was expected from a young girl. I did it to show my strength, my worth, my mind, and my abilities. I never wanted to be chained down in a relationship that depended on a man's work to guide and form my everyday schedules. Yet here I was, wishing it could all have been different.

I wouldn't trade my experiences for any other. I wouldn't trade my lifestyle for anything less. But I wish I could have been those women that Ash would have been brave enough to ask. He avoided me, ran from me, and kept his distance from me – because he knew that my career and reputation meant the world to me. By all accounts, he was a lesser man. And by tradition, he didn't deserve me.

I would have gladly gone against tradition to be with him. Forced him to be mine without any care to what others thought. But my job and my honor depend on that tradition – as ironic as it is. To deny these barriers would be to shatter the foundation of my renown. And for him to deny them would be to betray my life's goals. He respected mine as I respected his. So we kept our distance. Apart and away. And we'd only be further with time.

We accepted our placements as responsible adults: those who knew the worth and true value of holding tradition's lessons and meanings.

Maybe it was because I was an adult that I was crying. I never had the chance to be a foolish, young girl. I never had a chance to be wooed by a boy like Ash. I never had the chance to experience that childish kind of love that he offered with his shy antics. I was always an adult – caring for only career and reputation. Even now, I'm just an adult – willing to sacrifice this hopeless chance in order to finally obtain what I've invested my whole life in. And in my eyes, so was he.

And in the end, we'd part ways maturely. Nothing lasts forever. It's a lesson that even my little brothers had to learn. We can't just pretend that it's all going to be okay.

"It's going to be okay."

I flinched, looking up from my tear-dried hands. It was Ash. He was awake… and brushing his fingers against my hair. His fingertips slid across the skin of my ear and pressed gently into my scalp.

It felt nice. He'd only done it once before when I asked him to after a hard day's work. But when he teased me for asking for it like how a cat asks for attention, I made him stop.

I didn't want to stop him now. My head pressed against his hand, begging exactly like a cat. I didn't care. I just yearned for his attention. And anything that would make him continue giving it to me would never be beyond and below me at this point. If this was the last time we'd ever speak to each other again, I wanted to be the center of his world… just as he had become the center of mine.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"…What?"

"Do you want me to stay?" he repeated.

The question was loaded. It wasn't meant to be answered with a 'yes' or a 'no'. It was a question intended to force me into a corner. Like how he fled from my advances, he was asking me to chase – baiting me into giving him a solid answer.

In retrospect and introspect, I came into the realization that he had never been indecisive. I was the one being indecisive. I didn't chase because I didn't think he was worth the tried commitment. I never spoke of my feelings towards him directly because I wanted to hold him responsible for any negative outcomes. I wanted him to move in with me, to continue his life with me, but I was never brave enough to ask him to stay. My life was going to move forward without him, sticking to a straightforward goal as if it were the tradition that bound my sense of self. And I was just going to let it end because I was too shy to tell him.

"I do." I answered.

The two words left my mouth as if I had just been asked to make my vow at the wedding altar. And they felt natural… true… and complete. I signed away my pride and reputation with my answer, willing to bet everything I had just so that he'd stay with me. Just so I could have another day with him moving around my schedules. Another day with his cheesy jokes and odd conversations. Another day with his prepared meals and laundry. Another day with his adventures with the boys, and the moments that made me smile, laugh, and cry. Another day with him by my side was worth more to me than how people saw me.

I don't care about my strength and dignity if it sacrifices him.

I don't want to be without him. I don't want to move on without him. I don't want him to move on without me and the boys. We've been through too much to just give it all up. Been through too much to just throw it away for the sake of 'maturity'. My mother taught me that maturity isn't about gritting one's teeth and taking the blow – it's understanding why sacrifices are made. And there's no reason for this sacrifice to be made. There's no point to it. If he goes, then none of it matters.

I lost my care to do things for myself. That was what caused my insomnia, my tired days of heartless work. I had passion and love in what I did within the Contest Arenas because I was working for them… because I was working for Ash. I stopped working for the sake of bills and outfits, and fell in love with helping Ash pay for the wonderful things he brought into our life. That was where my passion was now, where my heart, my mind, and my spirit bound themselves to: our life together.

"Please stay with me… Please stay with us…" I begged him. My hands clawed against his chest, digging into his essence as if it was locked away from me. "I'm sorry… I just –"

"I love you, Zoey."

…

There he is. In my thoughts again. When I thought my mind was finally going to tear and break. When I thought I would never find a moment's rest within my emotional breakdowns. There he is again. Comforting me with words I never expected to hear from anyone's lips. My memories began to fade into them, be captured by them, and be swallowed up by them. Nothing would be left and all I would hold onto is the hope and curiosity of what tomorrow would bring with him by my side.

"Ash, I…"

I fell into his arms and pressed my head against his chest. His heart was beating fast and loud into my ear, I could tell that he's never held another woman like this. The innocent reaction made me smile stupidly. I tried to hide it, but no more than four beats later – I giggled in delight.

My body collapsed onto his, finally allowing exhaustion to take away my consciousness. With a number of whispered promises and encouragements, his voice lulled me into a deep slumber.

He's in my thoughts even when I'm not awake – telling me that everything would be alright. Everything would be alright – because he's here with me.

"…I love you too, Ash."