I wrote this odd oneshot that I recently found saved on my computer, and I'm quite surprised as to why I didn't put it up. After reading it, I was left...well, you'll have to read it to find out. This was written before To Grow Up, so I can't quite say on how this was written in reflection to my other FanFiction.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glameow, Meowth, Pichu, Saffron City, or anything else related to Pokemon seen or mentioned in this fic.

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One of the neon green lights flickered off. Another followed suit, one-by-one, until it was merely streetlights illuminating the friendly city. It was nearly eleven, the closing time for all of the businesses that thrived with the people and Pokemon alike within the boundaries of Saffron City. All of the houses had settled down for bedtime as Hoothoot poked their eager heads out of the dark trees. The streets were left utterly empty except for an abandoned car or two.

Soon after, the nocturnal Pokemon lifted up their heads as the signs of human interference vanished. A moment later, they leaped out of their cozy nests to explore the silent city, doing as they please. Domesticated Pokemon housed inside the homes cautiously poked their heads out of a door flap and bounded off courageously into the night, leaving their safe realm behind.

In Saffron City, it wasn't uncommon to see new Pokemon roaming around at night. As a matter of fact, some even welcomed them. One of the joints near the boundary of the city left out some leftovers on tin plates for the carnivorous or omnivorous Pokemon to eat undisturbed. As expected, the plates were always empty the next morning.

Up in a Pecha tree, a curved ear flicked, sensing the nightlife awakening. Another appeared later as the Pokemon rose his head and peered down at the street below him. It was empty except for a Meowth munching heartily on a discarded hotdog. The creature yawned, flexing his claws, and sprang down from his napping spot. The Meowth looked up anxiously and quickly proceeded to scurry away at his approach.

The Pokemon in question glanced briefly at where the Scratch Cat Pokemon had disappeared off to but shook it off with distaste, daintily licking a white-tipped paw, eyes closed in silent pleasure. Behind him, his long, blue-gray tail curled up with a fuzzy puff at one end, still fluffed out in an unsuccessful attempt for a comfortable sleep. It connected to the same shade of a feminine long-furred body, which in turn joined with a crescent-shaped head tipped with a pale white color. A black collar around his neck radiated with a golden orb the name "Dusty."

Dusty was a Glameow. Oddly enough, he was male despite the female figure and it was obvious many avoided him because he was considered creepy because of that. Dusty didn't seem to care as he strolled down the sidewalk, eyeing the signs on the restaurant windows. He didn't get a decent meal last night. Maybe he could find one this night, and if he was lucky they didn't lock the garbage cans.

He didn't exactly find anything that seemed satisfying, so he made a mental note to go fishing later. His sapphire eyes scanned the newsstands for anything interesting to a Pokemon. He didn't care about stock market crashes or the fact that a two-year old saved his dad from getting run over. Dusty only wanted to know if they planned on building an aquarium. Oh, yes. If they did, he wouldn't have to travel five miles just to find some delicious seafood to eat.

Those pesky humans. They didn't announce anything. Dusty glared at the newsstand in mild annoyance and turned to bolt down the street in pursuit of a precious lake to fish from, when suddenly, his paws forced themselves to a halt. He blinked in confusion as he backed up a few paces. Slowly he turned around to face the alleyway he'd just passed.

It was dark and dank of course, reeking of the garbage smells of dumpsters, but in perfect contrast there was a small bundle of golden fur against the deep gray and black of dirty stone. Dusty blinked as he observed the creature. It was young, he figured, but what in the name of Azelf was it doing here?

The golden fur was actually framed by huge, black-tipped ears and a black fur pattern around the neck area. A small black checkmark-shaped tail was sticking out from under it as it waited patiently, tapping its feet rhythmically against the side of the trash can it was positioned on. Dusty didn't have to see the large brown eyes or tiny pink cheeks to know that it was the pre-evolved form of Pikachu, Pichu.

It was leaning back on the alley walls, the small head pointed upwards toward the Milky Way. The Pichu was in complete focus of counting those stars it didn't seem to notice Dusty or even acknowledge the rank scents that surrounded it. Dusty tilted his head curiously as he watched the young Pichu mouth numbers in the thousands, a feat that a regular baby Pokemon would most likely never reach. The Pichu was painfully alone. Dusty was amazed at how calm and content a childish Pokemon could be.

It took Dusty a few seconds before he found his voice. He had the urge to finally speak, and he called curiously, "Hey, Pichu."

The Pichu must not have known he was sitting there just a few feet away, because it instantly froze in fear to glance wildly at Dusty. Seeing that Dusty was simply a Glameow and not a bloodthirsty Umbreon or Weavile, the Pichu relaxed and let out a silent sigh before, without a word, turning back to the stars to resume her never-ending counting.

Dusty could tell from the position that this Electric-Type was a female. Dusty wondered what such a young Pokemon was doing out here by herself. Where were her parents? Dusty pondered momentarily if she was being rude by ignoring him, but his unasked question was swiftly answered as the Pichu turned back to him and flashed him a friendly smile.

"I'm sorry, Mister Glameow. I wanted to get that last bunch of stars counted," She apologized. Seeing Dusty's forgiving nod, her smile grew and she stated proudly, "I counted 6,754 stars!"

That was such a high number for a young mind. This Pichu was definitely a smart one. Dusty quickly praised her, settling himself down on the concrete. "That's a good job, little one." At that, the Pichu beamed happily, sitting up so that she appeared taller. "May I ask what you're doing out here all alone?"

"Waiting," She responded.

Dusty was confused by the simple, singular word response as he was expecting something along the lines of…well, he wasn't too sure what a Pichu would be doing in the middle of a big city. Either way, it left him confused and his tail flopped down uselessly as he ran the word over in his mind, thinking of what it could possibly mean.

"Waiting for your parents?" He inquired curiously. "Where are they?"

"Waiting."

What in the world could a Pikachu evolution line be waiting for? Maybe this Pichu was too young to understand what her parents meant. Dusty shrugged it off and decided to ask again before changing his question. "Where are your mother and father?"

Instantly, he received the same word from her miniature mouth. "We're waiting, Mister Glameow." Dusty understood when she explained further, "I'm not supposed to tell you, 'cuz I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

Dusty chuckled to himself. She wasn't really doing a good job of it. Dusty wasn't out to harm her, so he dismissed it as friendliness without further questioning. In turn, he asked a final intrusive question before giving up the matter. "What are you waiting for?"

"Waiting. I'm still not supposed to tell you. I'm sorry, Mister Glameow."

"Oh, that's okay," Dusty instantly soothed, seeing a troubled look cross her face momentarily. "You don't have to." It wasn't exactly his place to know about others business, anyways. Next time he shouldn't be so invasive.

He followed her gaze upwards where she remained counting the stars. The numbers kept steadily increasing and Dusty interrupted again, "Why are you counting the stars?"

"They're so pretty!" She squeaked, clasping her tiny paws together as she merged her talking with her infinite counting. "I'm going to get them all! They're like little diamonds up there!"

That was true.

Dusty never took the time to observe the glorious sky, and it was indeed beautiful as stars flickered ceaselessly against the gray dawn sky. It was easy to see why the Pichu wanted to reach up and grab some for her own, but he didn't want to spoil her fun by telling her she wouldn't ever reach them. There were tons of stars up there. After all, it gave her something to do as she sat there patiently.

Her young voice continued into Dusty's ear as she went beyond seven-thousand. "I'm going to get some for Mommy when she's done waiting. That's what everyone tells me. Mommy needs something instead of nothing."

This was certainly an odd child, indeed.

"So I wanted to get her some stars. I'm going to get them all and place them all over her and she'll be so happy and give me one. I'll get some for Daddy, too, so he can be happy with Mommy and we can all be one big constellation. I can get one for you, if you want, Mister Glameow."

"Oh, that won't be necessary." Dusty purred as he managed to pull himself into a standing position. He stretched each limb in succession as he listened to her ramble on. He didn't mean to sound rude, but he loudly yawned. The Pichu turned to him curiously, obviously never seeing such a big mouth. Dusty giggled again before speaking apologetically, "I have to go, Pichu. Be careful out here."

"Okay, Mister Glameow. Thank you for keeping me company. I was lonely," She responded sweetly.

Dusty felt an unmovable grin find itself on his mouth. "That's no problem. Your parents will be here soon. You won't be lonely, then."

They exchanged another friendly smile before Dusty walked off in search of another tree to nap in, a tree nobody would disturb him in. Definitely not one next to a house of children. They threw rocks at him. Dusty suppressed a shudder at that thought, climbing a nearby pine tree. After washing himself carefully, he felt himself drift off to a peaceful sleep.

The next night wasn't like last night. The second he leaped down from his perch and went off exploring, his luck changed for the better: an Italian restaurant left the garbage cans unlocked by accident and he helped himself to an endless feast of spaghetti and discarded meatballs. When he finally emerged from the trash nearly two hours later, he looked like a miniature Purugly.

"That was so delicious!" He yowled aloud to no one. As such, he received an answer from nobody.

After thoroughly cleaning his whiskers to remove the tasty sauce, he began his average rounds, checking about the city in hopes of finding a female Glameow or Skitty. As usual, none seemed interested in him, throwing him a rather weird look before stalking away. After conversing with an old friend of his, an undersized Furret, he decided to see about the news headlines. Today was good day. Certainly they'd make an aquarium just for this Glameow?

There were several headlines, ranging from mundane to humane: a lady found eating shoes to an unexpected death in a line of millionaires. Nothing really interesting to a Pokemon like him, but today was going perfectly, as an aquarium was going to be built about a mile away. That was good, he could handle walking a mile for some food. Especially his favorite food. He hoped they'd have Magikarp.

That'd be awesome, he reminded himself as he picked up his white-tipped paws to walk away to look for something to drink. It had rained last night, which was good. He wouldn't go thirsty, either. As he stepped delicately over the clean puddles of water, passing other newspapers, he was forced step on the sidewalk, closer than usual to the headlines.

Almost instantly, he found his feet frozen in place for the second night in a row. Silently he backed up again, and turned his head slowly to the miniature headline he'd overlooked earlier: one that was actually interesting to him. Well it was, but not in the good sense.

Pichu Found Dead, See Page B3 For Details.

Dusty felt a questioning sound escape his lips. "Huh?"

Instantly, he vaguely remembered his young Pichu friend from last night, earnestly counting the stars one after another. Was it her? It couldn't be. Who'd be so heartless to kill such a young child? Her parents were coming for her, weren't they? Did they abandon her?

"That's enough, Dusty," Dusty scolded himself. "You don't even know the gender of the Pichu. For all you know its someone's from Almia."

He read what little he could under the small, bold title. It was a brief paragraph, explaining what had happened, that answered some of his questions.

In what appears to be a random act of violence, a young female Pichu was found dead early this morning. No other Pokemon was around, but the battered body was covered in scratches and drying blood, leaving the Pokemon Protection League to assume this was inflicted by a small clawed Pokemon, possibly a Sneasel or Meowth.

The Pichu was found in the small alleyway between Starlight and Shockwave Streets, leaving many to believe she was placed there in an effort to conceal the body. Nobody has claimed the Pichu, so she must've been a wild Pokemon. Nobody knows why there were no adult Pokemon around. By the looks of it, the Pichu died after her throat was torn out. This is similar to a case a few days back in which—

This was were the snipped article ran off the page, and beside the final letters there was a message stating it was continued on another page. Dusty couldn't believe what he had just read, and he let out a shaky breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as he retraced the text once, twice, and finally a third time until he understood. Slowly he backed up, step by step.

There was a loud, furious yell as a car ran by him, narrowly missing him. Dusty, startled, fell back a few steps and found himself against a harsh brick wall as he tried to collect his panicked thoughts. The Pichu he'd seen last night was female, wasn't it? And no other Pokemon was around her. It was dawn when he'd seen that young Pichu…and in an empty alleyway?

Dusty shook his head furiously. What was this? That adorable Pichu couldn't be dead. She was perfectly fine. To push his own guilt and misgivings away, he decided for himself that he would go and visit her--if she was still waiting.

What exactly was that cute little doll waiting for?

Now that he'd honestly thought about it, pacing nervously to his destination, he wasn't too sure. If her parents were crazy enough to let her all alone, then she must've been waiting for something very important. How long had she been waiting, anyway? However long it took to count to seven-thousand stars. So how long did that take?

Dusty paused just before reaching the alleyway. He swallowed a heavy gulp and peered his crescent head around cautiously, silently begging that it wasn't her. Mildly confident with his nervous stability, he trotted out past the building and questioned loudly, "Hey, Pichu. I'm back. How many stars did you get last night?"

His words were met with an eerie silence.

"Huh. She must've finished waiting for whatever she was waiting for," He assured himself, walking slowly in the darkness. His pupils dilated as he tried to take in all around him.

The alleyway was completely empty, without a living soul around. Tattered advertisements on faded papers hung loosely on the cold walls as newly discarded garbage piled in a corner, freeing up some much needed breathing air. The dumpsters, once filled to the brim with unnecessary materials, were empty. The trash was picked up last night. Did those humans see anything?

The Pichu wasn't here, and Dusty wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or worried. She could've just gone home or she could've been that Pichu. Cautiously he closed his eyes and breathed deep, hoping to get her familiar scent, hoping that his fears would be nonexistant.

Yes, this was the same place. Under the rain's light drizzle and persisting smell of rotting material, Dusty could smell her faint presence. Beyond that were the expected scents of humans and his own from last night, as well as a few other strange Pokemon, but above all of them was the scent that Dusty didn't want to notice.

The scent of freshly spilled blood.

Dusty blinked momentarily, testing it again. It was blood, yes. Judging by the strength of the scent, it'd happened before the rainfall but after he'd left. Dusty instantly knew whose blood it was by the pulsating fear that smothered it.

Oh dear Arceus, not her. Please, no, not her.

She'd gone home, alright. She'd gone to be with the spirits of the forgotten and where her short lifetime memories left on earth would forever disappear. If she hadn't been out here all alone, she'd still be alive! What idiotic parents she had! If they hadn't let her stay by herself—

Dusty felt his blood run cold. If he hadn't let her stay by herself. Was this his fault?

Dusty felt unease and guilt prickle his blue-gray pelt as he looked skyward, realizing at last why she was alone. She wanted the stars for her mother and her father. Well, she finally got them. Was she... Was she happy up there?

Feeling lower than ever thought possible, he leaped up on the dumpster, the exact same place where the young rodent Pokemon had sat herself so comfortably many hours earlier. He whispered softly, "I'm sorry, Pichu. I didn't mean this."

He expected no response, and again he received none. He wanted to pour out his tears for the lost, but he didn't. Instead he tilted his head to the pale sky where sunrise was barely creeping up, fighting its way through the raven sky. Well, that Pichu couldn't get the stars. Dusty had never actually tried, so he had always assumed it was impossible. Well, for once, he could try to gather them. He could just try for that little heartbeat that had been so determined to get them all.

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He asked a final intrusive question before giving up the matter. "What are you waiting for?"

"Waiting. I'm still not supposed to tell you. I'm sorry, Mister Glameow."

"Oh, that's okay," Dusty instantly soothed, seeing a troubled look cross her face momentarily. "You don't have to."

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With that, one-by-one, Dusty began counting those beautiful stars.