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Counting Stars
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"Everything that kills me makes me feel alive." —OneRepublic, "Counting Stars"
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When he tells her that he's going to enter the Indigo Plateau Conference and journey through Kanto once again–he'd go alone this time, he tells her–he isn't sure what to make of her reaction.
As he sees her comprehending every word he said, her features softening from their previous tightness, her smile instantly melts into a frown, and a look of despair is evident in those brilliant green eyes of hers. His excitement seemingly dissipates, and he reaches to take her hand in his, squeezing it, and asks her what's wrong. She merely shakes her head, putting on a small grin, and says that everything is fine, that everything will be all right.
So he smiles and tells her, "Don't worry, Mist. I'll be back before you know it."
"You'd better, Ash Ketchum," and she leans down to give him a gentle kiss. But he knows that the hotheadedness she exudes is simply for show, that she's only feigning the pomposity for which he's come to know her right at this moment; in reality, she's trying to hide the fact that she's experiencing an emotional breakdown.
She takes out a Poké Ball. "You are ready, right?"
He can't help but smirk. "Oh, you know I am."
(He feels like there's something inside that's nagging at him, like he's doing something completely wrong while his mind is telling him he's made the right choice. He has no idea what this feeling is, but quickly dismisses it and decides to ignore it.)
It's only been two days and he already misses her.
He lies on his back, Pikachu curled on his chest in deep slumber, but he can't seem to get to sleep himself. It's not that the exhaustion isn't getting to him, but all he seems to be capable of doing is thinking and thinking and just thinking. The twinkling stars that decorate the vast, pitch-black coat above are all that he can see, all that he can hear, all that he can feel, all that he can think about (there it is again), all that he is.
It's everything to me, he thinks.
("Just look at the stars, Ash," she said, looking at the sky in awe. "Once we're finally able to relax together and just be together like any other normal couple, don't you wish we could just lie on the roof like this, looking at stars for the rest of our lives? I don't know about you, but I hope it could be like this someday."
And right at that moment, he decides that he'll do anything to make that dream come true.)
"You are coming to the Indigo Plateau Conference to cheer me on, right?"
She rolls her eyes at him. "Do I really need to answer that question?"
He laughs openly. "Hey, don't judge me for asking. I've already got four Badges, so it won't be too long until it's here. I'm in Fuchsia City right now, and I'll be challenging Janine tomorrow morning. I'm so psyched for it!" Then, a thought occurs to him. "I really miss you, Mist."
A soft smile creases on her delicate lips. "I miss you too, Ash." She looks to her left, presumably at a clock. "It's getting late. Goodnight, Ash. Love you."
He doesn't intend those words to be his last ones of the night, but her face immediately disappears from the screen, and it feels as if she weren't there just a second ago in the first place.
(A part of him feels like it's been stripped away from him and getting it back is nearly impossible, and almost instantaneously, he begins to doubt his original decision for some reason that eludes him.)
Three months. It's exactly three months until the Indigo League, three months until he can finally see her after all this time, and each day seems to be dragging by painstakingly slowly.
Of course he's excited by the fact that he's standing right in front of Blaine's Gym and he'd be earning yet another Badge in a matter of minutes. Of course he's excited by the fact that he'd be one step closer to achieving his dream of becoming a Pokémon Master. Of course he's excited by the fact that he's about to enter another thrilling, electrifying battle that will surely get his heart pumping and racing and palpitating like it always did when he was engrossed in the heat of things.
Yet something still feels wrong–terribly, terribly wrong.
(As he takes the first step in, he wonders if it's possible that love can possibly trump his biggest dream.)
The reality is almost unbelievable and, despite it being the second time in his life for him to experience this moment, he just can't seem to wrap his mind around what's happening.
Just seeing the amount of Trainers around him already makes him feel pumped for tomorrow's battles. The central torch has just been lit, and the Trainers and everyone in the crowd are all screaming at the top of their lungs, enthusiastic for the upcoming events. He sees all the people close to him in the front bleachers: his mom, Professor Oak, Gary, Leaf, Brock, and Tracey. He knows that they aren't all, that the others are watching him from the screens of their TVs in their homes, cheering him on.
But the one out of them all who stands out the most is her. Those features are all too familiar to him–fiery red hair, breathtaking viridian eyes, silky smooth skin, pink lips. Everyone else's cheering is drowned out by hers, and all he can make out is her voice, her words of encouragement that he knows are directed toward him and him only, and a sense of determination seemingly settles in.
(He's realized it time and time again, but he can never get over how important she is to him, and that burden he bears becomes all the more heavy.)
As he stands on the pedestal of victory, he gives his trademark goofy grin to the exuberant crowd and waves to them, showing off his League Badge to the world. He sees his friends in the front, chanting his name victoriously, their form of congratulation for his achievement.
But she isn't there, because she's still the impetuous tomboy he's known since the age of ten, and she ignores the security's forceful suggestions that she should stay in the bleachers. She runs up to him with the brightest smile plastered on her face, and she captures his lips with hers. He hears the gasps and cooing of the audience, the snaps of the paparazzi's cameras, Pikachu's snickering, but he doesn't give a care about it all, because all that matters is him and her and nothing else.
When they part and only their foreheads are in contact, she whispers, almost breathlessly, "You did it, Ash. You really did it."
"I know, Misty," he tells her, the feeling of being proud undeniable. "We can finally look at the stars."
(She immediately knows what he means, for they tilt their heads upward at the same time and smile dreamily as they imagine the future, the future they will shape together, and he knows he will never have to worry, feel so conflicted, ever again, because it's all perfect. Finally.
And even if he still isn't Champion, this is already all he can ask for in life.)
She's asleep on the roof, light snores coming from her, but he can't help but stroke her cheek, her hair, her lips, because she's an angel and there's no one in the world who's more beautiful than she is. The night isn't overly chilly, so he doesn't see the need in getting a blanket for the both of them.
(As he settles down next to her and wraps his arms around her slender body, it feels like it's been a lifetime since he could properly relax like this and see the twinkling stars overhead wink back at him.)
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fin
A/N: I hope the overall plot was clear enough for you. I wanted this story to be anything but direct, but not too indirect that the readers can't understand the plot of it. I incorporated some symbolism into this to try to give you guys clues, so hopefully that helps. The things in the parentheses should give off some major hints, too.
Happy Pokéshipping Day, guys! This was written in commemoration of Ash and Misty and this idea has just been bugging me for such a long time but I only decided to get it down now because I knew Pokéshipping Day was coming up, so yeah.
Anyway, thanks for reading! Thoughts? Criticism? Put it all in a review, please! :)