Yes, I know I have TOO many fan-fic started already…but one more can't hurt, especially seeing as how I have a whole summer to write stuff. This is just a little Pokemon fic that I've been meaning to write for awhile now. I am a huge sucker for the character of Misty, so, in this little one-shot, I go out to outline a little bit in the future of this universe of Pokemon…going out to say what could happen in the future…
By Da Games Elite
"Gyarados, Hyper Beam!"
A jet of brilliant light exploded from the open jaws of the hungry serpentine aquatic dragon, a jet that burned through the pool of water, searing the droplets of H2O as it tore toward the enemy Houndoom, slamming against the breadth of the creature's skull. The canine foe was thrown from the platform he stood upon as the jet tore into him, enveloping him in sparks of technocolored light. The beast stared at its attacker for an instant with unrelenting horror and rage, before turning toward the woman standing behind it, the one holding the strings of the battle, before the Houndoom was thrown through the wall behind it, piercing its surface, left in the smoldering ruins behind his helpless trainer.
"Houndoom!" the young trainer squealed before turning toward the attacker, the mighty Gyarados glaring down at it, slithering through the water toward the trainer, the mighty jaws agape as it stared down at its prey. "I surrender!"
"Alright then, Gyarados, return!" The Gyarados was ensnared by a red light, a red aura that sucked the serpentine monster back into the clutches of its ball. The trainer held the ball in her hands, tossing it up and down for a few moments as she exhaled, slowly releasing the tension of battle from her lungs as logic and reason gave way to the emotions of the heart. The Houndoom in the wall trembled weakly as the trainer glanced toward the nurse on stand-by. Joy darted toward the defeated dog, several Chansies at her side, as they pulled the fallen beast onto a stretcher, carrying him away. The young trainer was escorted away, his eyes wide with fear, as the gym leader of Cerulean felt her legs give out under her, her head lowered in shame.
She could've killed that Pokemon just now.
She could've hurt that poor trainer's heart and mind.
She could've done something so horrible she'd never forgive herself.
She withdrew the Pokeball from her hip that contained Gyarados. He had become so mighty, so overwhelmingly powerful as time passed by. Now, the weak trainers just starting on their way who crossed paths with her stood little to no chance against his might. She supposed that was proper for a gym leader, but even so, Misty was never one for overkill.
"Well, let's see here, that makes fifty-four victories in the past month, rounding out your two-hundred win streak since last fall, meaning you've spent the last half a year virtually undefeated," sighed the secretary (her name was Jean, but that was unimportant to the gym leader at the moment) as Misty abandoned her pool, her skin pale and clammy, a moisture completely unrelated to the pool she had battled on. "You keep this up, and rest assured they'll rank you as one of the most intense gyms in the Kanto region, right up there with that Sabrina lady and Surge."
"Yeah," Misty replied, not listening. She ran a towel through her locks of hair, tugging the pool water from her follicles, and yet couldn't seem to dry her body of the icy sweat that emerged from each of her pores. She could've killed someone right now, and she had almost killed someone every day for the past several months. After four years of being a gym leader, even now Misty didn't seem to shake that competitive streak in her heart. Very rarely did she find a trainer that matched her move-for-move, and out of all those opponents, even fewer defeated her.
Jean, however, glanced down at her clipboard she kept tucked up next to her breast as the seconds passed. "Also, you have four more matches this week scheduled, all new trainers from Pallet Town or Viridian City, along with a meeting with that official from the Indigo Plateau, and then you'll be able to rest a little before you open the pool up for public use again. Sounds like an interesting day."
"Yeah, I'd say," Misty replied, not listening still.
"Funny how each person using this place tends to make this gym a public display of some sort. First a swim show, then a public pool…wouldn't be surprised if next it turned out you wanted to make this place into a bath house," Jean mumbled, her voice mostly monotone, her long brown hair trailing down to her slightly thick hips as she followed Misty around. She glanced up at the orange haired trainer through her thick-rimmed glasses before mumbling, "Of course, it's not like you'd find my brand of humor amusing."
Misty didn't respond.
Misty waited for the Indigo Representative in her office. She sat at a desk, not unlike the desks Misty had, for years, sworn up and down she'd never find herself sitting at. The window before her overlooked the pool, both her sanctuary and hell, a source of pleasure and indescribable pain. She sighed slightly as she ran a hand through her hair before glancing at her desk. There stood many pictures, memories of years since past. There were her three glorious sisters, out doing only God knows what again, a huge picture of Togepi, a memory now long since past, and then, next to that, was that boy from Pallet Town, Ash. It wasn't a picture of Ash, Misty, and their other friend Brock, just that blacked haired boy with that stupid hat with the insignia on it. Misty remembered how she had tried to win a hat like that once, but, alas, it wasn't meant to be. Now Misty could picture no one other than Ash wearing that hat. It was just illogical to assume that hat could fit on anyone else's head.
Last time Misty saw Ash, he wasn't wearing that hat.
The door to her office opened as Jean poked her head in once more. "Misty, the Indigo Representative is here. Do you want me to send him up?"
"Uh, sure," Misty replied, turning away from the photos on the desk. Why did she even keep those old things there anyway? She hadn't seen Ash in so long anyway, so why hold onto memories that only reminded her of things she didn't have? She sighed, staring into that boy's face once more. She had so many photographs of the two of them together, and yet she chose that one picture of just him. Why was that? Did it capture Ash perfectly, did it—
"Hello there, Miss Waterflower." The voice of the representative drew Misty out of her reflection. He was a tall man, his hair drawn back into a ponytail, his chin covered with irregular locks of hair. His smile resembled that of a vagabond, and his untidy suit, the tie loose around his neck, helped to reinforce that idea. He bowed, almost mockingly, before the Gym leader, as he took a seat right in front of her, lazily. "My name is Nathanael Butler, and I'm here just to settle a few matters with you, Misty—I can call ya that, right?"
"Yeah, sure, it's fine," Misty replied, folding her legs as she glanced over at Nathanael, gazing occasionally at Ash's picture. Why did she keep looking at that stupid boy? Was she afraid Ash could see her in a room alone with another guy? She wasn't alone, Jean was here, right? Jean sat in a corner, her clipboard at the ready to take notes on what both parties said, simply to give Misty moments after the meeting ended, when the notes that Jean recorded would be fresh in the gym leader's mind before she even read them.
"Well, it's just that, well, you're a great trainer," Nathanael replied, smiling a lazy yet perhaps charming smile at the gym leader, "Well, scratch that, a phenomenal trainer. However, perhaps you're too good. Perhaps it's gotten to the point where you're too good to be a gym leader anymore."
"What exactly are you saying?" Misty asked, confused.
"The gym leaders were put in place to test trainers to see if they were ready for the Indigo Plateau. However, in a recent poll, we came to realize something about your level of skill: your on par with the Elite Four. Well, let me rephrase that: you're not nearly as good as them, nor could you bother expecting to win, but, nevertheless, you're at the level of skill where we'd allow you to actually confront the Elite Four in battle. You're that qualified. And yet you're a gym leader. Most Gym Leaders never reach that level of skill, and yet, here you are, doing it anyway, and using your champion level Pokemon to fight fledgling trainers."
"Where are you going with this?" Misty asked.
Nathanael chuckled at this, a faint, almost bemused chuckle. "Oh, sorry, I fear I'm dancing around the point here. Well, let's get straight to it: you're so good few people can beat you, and you're only getting better. Fact is, you're so good that you're actually limiting the amount of people who are able to participate in the Indigo League tournament. Participation from last year alone is down 42%. It's a massive drop, and this is even considering we have higher tier trainers such as Sabrina here. In fact, the real reason why we feel there is this huge drop in percentages is because, simply put, we have trainers who are too strong in charge of their gyms. Yourself, Sabrina, and Lt. Surge. And, as with all things, when put under new management, it's only fair that we try to, shall we say, cut the fat."
All at once it became clear to Misty what he was saying. The girl rose to her feet, a furious glint in her eye. "You're not saying what I think you're saying, are you!"
Nathanael chuckled yet again. He closed his eyes in mock amusement before glancing up, a dangerous glow in his iris. "If you give up your gym now, I'll happily give you and your family a nice sum of money for the building as well."
"Now hold on! I live in this gym! You can't just kick us out!"
"Well, I'm not JUST kicking you out. Sabrina and Lt. Surge are going with you," chuckled Nathanael, reaching into his suit pocket to withdraw a folded envelop. He shoved it into Misty's lowered hands, forcing her to accept the eviction notice. "We'll give you two months. Think of this as a way to ensure that you go out on a bang."
Misty stared at the letter, this death sentence. That's what it was, after all: a death sentence, a message informing her that her heart had been torn out, that her blood and life fluids were dripping on the floor, that she had moments to grasp fresh air in her lungs before all went black. She didn't always get along with her sisters, nor did she always find the environment here pleasant, but for the love of all that was good, this was her home. She LIVED here, she had grown up here. She enjoyed traveling around the world, yes, but when it came right down to it, this was the only place where she could call home. She loved traveling, yes, but even so, even so, she had prided herself on her connection to the Cerulean gym in that she was, for all intents and purposes, strong enough of a trainer to be a gym leader!
Now what was she?
Elite Four competition?
Could she still give out badges like that?
Misty brushed the tears from her eyes as she glanced back up at Nathanael, the man now turning to leave, an amused grin on his lips. "Please, is there anything I can do, anything at all, to just—"
"Nope. None at all. Abandon all hope ye who enter here," Nathanael replied, laughing slightly to himself, "Two months, Misty, two months. You can't fight it."
"No warning at all! Just a damn eviction like that!" Misty shouted, losing her temper, "You jerk! You can't just barge in here and tell me what to do! You haven't heard the last of this, ya know!" Misty screamed at the top of her lungs as tears rolled down her cheeks. There was a moment following her outburst where nothing moved, and then she felt her sobs explode from her mouth. She fell against her desk, lowering her face into her hands. She sobbed out her stress, her fury, her anxiety, her anguish, her loss, her sorrow, her nostalgia, her memories, her love.
She felt a hand on her shoulder as Nathanael stood over her, frowning slightly. "There, there, Misty. Maybe we can offer you a spot in Indigo, or, maybe, worst case scenario, I can try arranging something at the office."
"Yeah, if you give me a tour of the building, in particular your living spaces—"
The resounding slam of Misty's knuckles across Nathanael's jaw echoed throughout the entire chamber. The official stumbled backward, a vehement expression on his face. His fingers curled into a fist for a split second before that cocky grin returned yet again. Laughing slightly, he said, his lip bleeding slightly, "You pack quite a punch there. The precise reason why, in two months, you'll be gone. Good day, gentlewomen."
The seconds passed in silence as Misty sat down in her chair, digging her face into her arms. It was all over. There was nothing she could do, nothing whatsoever. That man, that bastard, had just given her a death sentence. It was that simple: she was going to die in two months. Not literally of course, but figuratively. For the last four years, she had been a gym leader. She had spent every day forcing young trainers to reach their potential in order to see if they were worthy of reaching the Indigo league. That bastard couldn't fool her: a gym leader was more important than a stupid official. She was essential to the system, but now the system deemed her a threat.
Once again, she was being too violent to her opponents.
She hated her own techniques.
But what other choice did she have?
Ash stood in front of his old house, a smile on his lips. He had returned yet again, unexpected yes but home yet again. He smiled as he walked toward his old front door, and wrapped his knuckles against the wooden frame. A smile spread on his lips as she emerged yet again, happy as always to see him. His mother grabbed her only son into her arms, squeezing him against her bosom affectionately.
"Ash! It's been so long! I've been so worried about you and everything! You look so thin! Have you been eatin' enough? Hope you've been changing your you-know-whats every single day."
"I'm fine, mom, really!" Ash stammered, his raspy voice almost alien to the young adult. He hadn't spoken in so long, as he had traveled back to Pallet on foot. It had taken him awhile, but he got back regardless, safe and sound. A grin on his lips, he glanced around the living room in his mother's house, surprised to find it virtually unchanged, save for the photographs on the countertops, covering each corner of the house. He approached one nearest him, finding it, to his mild surprise, of a girl he hadn't seen in so long.
"Oh, knew you'd look at that one first," his mother chuckled, glancing over Ash's shoulder at the photograph, "You were so adorable back then, you three."
Ash stared at his own reflection, a reflection of him as a child yet again, of a black haired boy at his side who he had left behind yet again as he left for Pallet, and of an orange haired girl he hadn't seen in years. He smiled slightly as he stared at those slender legs, the thin fingers spread out as she waved at the camera, waving, it seemed, at the Ash who stared back at her years later. "She really was scrawny back then," Ash said, laughing.
"Look who's talking," his mom mumbled for an instant before saying, in a loud, carrying voice, "So who wants some dinner!"
"That'll be great!" Ash said, placing the picture down in favor of filling his face. It was at that instance that Pikachu darted into the room, gasping for air. Ash turned toward Pikachu. Ever since reaching Kanto, Ash had been in fight after fight, and Pikachu was exhausted. He nearly passed out on the floor, but, as Ash knew very well, he couldn't reach a Pokemon center until he reached Pallet. He took a short cut through the woods, and by short cut that clearly meant it was where the roughest of Pokemon resided. Pikachu was his strongest Pokemon, and, naturally, he could take the abuse. Until, of course, the home stretch.
"I figured you'd treat Pikachu a little better, Ash! The poor thing looks like he's about to faint right there on the floor!" Ash's mother snapped, her hands on her hips.
"Sorry! It's a long story," Ash replied as Pikachu cuddled up against his chest, weakly.
"Well, I suppose it's okay. You know what you're doing, being a big trainer and everything now. Well, let's eat."
"Yeah, sounds good!"
As Ash ate his fill, and as Pikachu recovered while Mr. Mime spoon fed him food (Mr. Mime, for the record, was also healing Pikachu with his own psychic abilities), Ash found himself glancing back constantly at that old picture of Misty. Or, as it should be said, the multiple old pictures of Misty. Just how many did his mother keep around the house, exactly? It was almost startling how Misty seemed to be staring at him from all angles, accusing him still that he needed to return her old bike, the one he stole.
Strange, though, how she did get that bike back.
It almost seemed alien, despite happening years ago.
Funny how things like that worked out.
"Do you ever see Misty around, mom?" Ash asked, after finishing his third plate of food.
"Misty, ya know? Have you seen her?"
"Well, she's awfully busy at that gym of hers. I heard she's on a real big winning streak," Ash's mom replied, smiling.
"Well, she's a great trainer, probably has gotten a lot better. I wonder what it would be like if I fought her again," Ash laughed.
"Well, why don't you go ahead and see her?" Ash's mom said, "I'm sure she'd love it."
"Ya mean it?"
"Yeah! I'm sure of it! The last time I saw her was a couple years back, and she kept saying how she wanted to know where you were. Such a beautiful girl she is."
"I'm sure she's still scrawny," Ash laughed.
"She's filled out a bit," Ash's mom replied, "Tastefully, of course."
"What, is she fat now or something?"
"Not at all," Ash's mom replied, "Still very—er—slender."
"So she's still scrawny?"
"That's not what I'm saying!"
"Well, okay, I'll go see her tomorrow. After breakfast. But first, lemme just get some fourths…"