Are you reading a high school story in the pokémon fanfiction section?


There are only two possible reasons for this. One is that you enjoy the form of torture that is the common high school fic. The other is that you have read my works before, and acknowledging that I am truly a goddess among men, know that whatever I put out on this site will be fantastic. Because I'm famous. I mean, I totally am. People see me in school and they're like, "Hey, could you get out of my way?" and I'm all, "Why yes, I am that girl from fanfiction. How did you know when I don't even have a picture up?" and then they give me a look that I can only imagine is one of admiration before they walk away, completely speechless at my infamy.

Oh, self-deprecating humor. I simply slay myself.

Anywho, there's a fic under this line based off of Snapshots Make the Story. You might want to check on it, if that's why you clicked this link, but don't blame me if you're disappointed.

The Boy and the Bike

Misty didn't remember any time before she had started going to boarding school. She honestly didn't remember her first day in Goldenrod except for the bright pin they had stuck into her shirt that had her badge and her name on it, right before they pushed her out into the crowd of kids to see how she would react. It had gone well. She hadn't hit anybody, hadn't yelled. She didn't exactly make friends, but she was much too busy spending her time crawling under the table and burying her head in her knees.

A big League person (she couldn't remember who it was now) had scooped her up and asked her what was wrong, that she had been to daycare before. Misty said that she knew that the test would come, and if she passed her parents would send her away. If she failed, her parents would be mad at her – especially since her sisters had gotten in and Misty was supposed to be the smart one. She was the one with a talent for pokémon.

Sometimes she felt like she was still stuck on that day. It was weird, because her parents were dead now, but as she flipped the switches on her suitcase and claimed her room, she couldn't help but feel like she should have been doing something else. She felt like the only thing bringing her back were her parents, nicely encouraging her from their graves to keep up the good work, to be the amazing girl they always knew she could be. Oh, she would be a Gym Leader. Maybe she would be an Elite. But stick to water types. It was her specialty. And practice, practice holding your breath so you can be the best water trainer to ever live.

She locked the suitcase and put it in her closet, carefully kneeling to stare at what she had put on the floor. It was her last year in Goldenrod, in this big boarding school before she went off to her career. Misty was sure she should be unpacking, getting her room ready for the last big blowout. She found, however, that she had never wanted to do anything less. So, instead of unpacking, she closed her closet door, closed the door to her dorm room, then curled up on her mattress, bare of sheets and pillows.

Misty Williams was eighteen, and next year would be the last time the world offered her anything thanks to the golden, sparkling city that glinted outside her dorm window. Next year she would have a gym to tend to. Maybe, if she was especially lucky, Lorelei would make good on her offer and train her to be one of the Elite Four. And once she said yes, well, there really wasn't any leaving of that station. That was as high as you could go, the end of the line. Peaking at nineteen.

Then, a knock at her door, and a very cautious call of, "Misty? You there?"

Which was May. And there was no being disappointed or grumpy when May was around. So she sat up and dragged out her suitcase so it looked like she was unpacking, then raced to the door with a large fake smile. A twist of the handle, the door thrown aside, and she eyed the brunette who had grown quite a bit during the summer. Granted, most of that was the growth around her bust which Misty couldn't help but be the slightest bit jealous of, but May had still gotten taller and seemed a bit bolder than when she had left at the end of last year.

"Who's your roommate?" she asked.

"Dawn, a freshman. Uh, blue hair, blue eyes. She's a coordinator, and she's drop dead gorgeous." May giggled, grabbing onto her hand. "Mew, you have to see her! She's like this perfectly made little porcelain doll, it's so freaky. I mean, I can't tell you how many times I've tried to touch her just to see if she's real."

"Is she nice?"

"So far, yeah." May nodded slowly. "So, do you have a roomie this year, or did you manage to weasel out of it and get a room all to yourself?"

"I didn't weasel out of it. I had a roommate! She was really nice, looked a lot like you actually." She shrugged slightly, trying to keep the grin off her face. "Then, out of nowhere, she suddenly decided that she didn't want to room with me. She said that my room was haunted, and that she had a friend she'd rather room with, and that was it. I don't know why. I mean, you know that this room isn't haunted. I've had it for the past three years."

"You didn't fake a ghost, did you?" She gasped.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."


She laughed, sweeping past the girl and walking backwards down the hall. "So, this Dawn girl. Do you think she'll be good man bait?"

"Oh, don't," May groaned.


"I like this girl. This isn't like the time I roomed with Sara and I just tolerated her. Dawn's in the same field as me, she likes the same stuff as me, she seems pretty nice and…" May sighed, catching up with the redhead and slinging their arms together, guiding her down the hall to her room. "Yeah, I suppose she'll be good man bait."

"Attagirl." Misty giggled. "How was your summer?"

"Pretty good, actually. I even texted Drew and he texted me back. We had, like, entire conversations."

"That is the dumbest sentence I have ever heard you say."

"Well, how was your summer?" she accused hotly. "Did you meet any boys?"

A few flashes of memories that involved men winking at her through the door of the gym and thick, bundled up piles of love letters in the mail that smelled like perfume and chocolate, forests of flowers that swamped the family room that she didn't especially want, but they looked so lovely and smelled so fresh that she couldn't bring herself to throw them all away. That wasn't what May had meant, though. May was asking if Misty had met any boys – not if Misty the Gym Leader had met any boys.

She frowned a bit. "You said Dawn's a freshman?"

"Don't stuff her in trashcan, please. Senior rights be damned, she's a nice kid."

And, suddenly, a blue haired girl was laughing, running down the hall with a pokeball in hand, and a boy who was most definitely not supposed to be in the girls' dorm chasing down behind her. With a twist, she snuck behind the two girls, using them as a shield against the redheaded boy who kept snatching for his pokeball, protesting "It's mine, Dawn! Come on!" This gave Misty the time to notice that Dawn was, in fact, as pretty as a china doll, and that the boy had noticed it too.

"I don't know if you deserve your pokeball back, Kenny," she taunted. "You barely made it into the school as it is. I remember someone checking the label of his water bottle for answers to the entrance exam."

"You wrote all the answers on your legs and lifted up your skirt because you knew nobody would be allowed to look!"

She winked. "But I'm the one who got a perfect score."

"Give me that, Dee Dee," he muttered, snatching the pokeball back.

"Don't call me Dee Dee!" she snapped, putting her hands on her hips and emerging from the girls. "Besides, you're not allowed to be here in the girls' dorm. So, if you don't want me to go and tattle on you and get me expelled, you better leave and never, ever call me Dee Dee as long as you live."

"I wouldn't be here if you hadn't…!" he began furiously, then shook his head sadly, saying his goodbyes and marching out the door.

Misty grinned. "I don't think I will throw you in a trashcan, frosh."

"Senior?" she asked.


"Thank you." She giggled. "Spread the word to your fellow seniors about how awesome I am."

"How do you feel about man bait position?"

"Mmm, feels like home all over again."

"I like your roommate."

May moaned, "Oh, Mew. There's two of them."

"I'm heading down to check out this problem," Misty said awkwardly. "The science teacher? The new one? Banner or something. He gave me a B plus and I worked damn hard on that thing. I mean, two sturdy weeks of studying and writing and I'm not saying that I deserve a perfect one hundred, but anything under an A is just ridiculous."

"You're ranting," May cautioned.

She laughed. "Right, sorry, but I worked so damn hard on that stupid thi-"

"You're such a grade grubber," she teased. "Though I figured you'd be more upset over the brand new public school transfer kid. He's getting a free ride all this year, plus I'm pretty sure a scholarship to any college of his choosing, plus Lance wants him as his student. He's not even from money or a gym or a title or anything. I mean, this is some big news for Goldenrod's golden standards."

"Is he cute?" Dawn asked eagerly. "I bet he's like a farm boy and he had a hot tan and always walks around in nothing but jeans with hot guy muscles."

"How old are you?" Misty asked suspiciously.


"Wow. Puberty hit you hard, didn't it?" She shook off the weird feeling and looked back at May. "What do I care about some hick from Pallet Town? He's got a battling scholarship and a public school education. He'll screw the curve with his bad grade, but all it's going to do is help me because I'm on the smart people side of the bell curve, as represented by the fact that I actually know what a bell curve is."

"He's supposed to be the best battler they've seen in ages."

Dawn giggled, bouncing on her heels. "Ooh, I hope he's hot. The only hot guy I've seen is Paul and Ricky and Archie and kind of Kenny and-"

Misty clicked her tongue. "Oh, cutie, you need to see a doctor because you are way too excited about boys."

"But I like how they make me feel tingly." She wiggled her fingers at the older girls.

"And even if Ash is an awesome battler, he'll be a trainer when and if he graduates. I'll be a leader. There's no competition there. Secondly, they've been asking every honor roll senior if they'd be interested in a job as a tutor."

"Ooh, did you say yes?" May asked.

"No way! It's my senior year! I'm spending my year playing video games, reading books, and illegally downloading all the music I can get my hands on."

"But he's hot! Why would you pass him up?"

"Dawn, you haven't even seen him yet!" May cried. "And, really, I'm starting to think you really do need to go see a specialist."

"Especially if you think that anyone from Pallet could ever be crush worthy." She laughed. "The only good things that have ever come out of that crappy little town are the Oaks and corn."

"You're really not curious?" May pushed.

Dawn's face lit up. "When he comes, we can stalk him from the bushes!"

Misty rolled her eyes. "That's the dumbest thing I have ever heard."

May blushed. "Uh, I kind of think it sounds like fun as long as we don't follow him into the shower or anything."

"Oh, thank Mew. I thought I was just going as crazy as blue eyes over here," she said in a rush, grabbing May's elbow and tugging her down the hall. "Let's go creep on the new kid and get me my A! The A comes first though."

"Grade grubber."

"And who has the higher GPA? Grade grubber or settler?"

"As long as A stands for hot boy ass, I'll go anywhere!" Dawn chirped.

May made a pitiful sounding whine. "Oh, Dawn, you…Oh, Dawn."

The last time Ash remembered his heart beating so fast was when he was six and he ignored his mother's warnings about watching Courage the Cowardly Dog. He guessed it probably thundered like this when he did something especially outrageous or exciting, like riding a pigeot or a tauros he found in Oak's field or chasing after a wild pokémon with a rock and his loyal Pikachu at his side, but he never noticed when those things happened. In his new home (and it made him wince to realize he would be staying there for quite some time) there was nothing to distract him from his fear of rushing cars and endless concrete and the absolutely crushing feeling that he was completely and utterly alone.

He wasn't alone, of course. He had his pokémon on his belt, safely tucked away in their pokeballs, and he always had Pikachu on his shoulder. He rubbed the sweet little mouse on her ears, and she "cha'd" at his touch. She hated the place as much he did, and couldn't offer him any comfort. The poor thing was shaking against him and nudging at his hand and laying her ears flat against her head to avoid the frightening noise of the city.

"It's okay, girl."

"Pika," she whimpered, trying to hide inside his shirt.

"There's nothing here to hurt you."

Which there wasn't, really. Pikachu knew that. However, she also knew that there were three human females prowling around in the bushes behind them, which she wasn't nearly so fond of. They didn't smell like they had any bad intent for either her or her trainer, but they acted like predators, with their hiding and lurking and the occasional mechanical click of a chain. She flicked her ears, catching sounds and snatched of "…left your bike at school" and "I have to go into…" and "…amazing butt!", all of which Ash seemed unable to hear.

So Pikachu turned, leapt to the ground, sat back on her haunches and released a strong stream of electricity into the bushes. It wasn't anything deadly, not by a long shot, but it was enough to seriously sting something human sized. Then, seeing most of it detracted by the bike, she poured it on harder until the girls shrieked and jumped out. Knowing who the girls were relaxed her, and she jumped up to Ash's shoulder to investigate from a safe distance.

"Why'd you sick your mouse on us?" the redhead fumed. "You have some nerve! Don't you know that pokémon are supposed to be in their pokeballs at all times on campus? And it's against Kanto's laws to directly call on a pokémon to attack a human. I don't know what backwards hillbilly laws they had in Pallet, but there are real laws here."

"Pikachu attacked on her own," he argued.

"Why?" May yelped. "We didn't do anything to it!"

Ash blinked. "Well, in Pallet, nice people don't hide in bushes."

"My bike!" Misty shrieked, grasping the charred hunk of metal with apparent horror. "How am I supposed to get home?"

"I told you he'd be hot," Dawn squealed.

"We were just electrocuted!" May hissed.

"You feel it, too?"

"I'm sorry," Ash said awkwardly. "Do you live aro-?"

"No! I'm a student! I take the train to Kanto and I bike home! It's too far to walk and now I can't even get to the stores! I can't believe you were so inconsiderate to just fry my bike without thinking about the consequences. You better buy me a new one!"

His brows knitted together. "But you were stalking me in the bushes."


"Doesn't that…isn't that self defense, then? I mean, it's not like Pikachu wasn't provoked. So, it's, uh, your fault, isn't it?"

She blushed, wondering exactly how bad the circumstances were and how much trouble she would be in for frightening Goldenrod's new prize student. If he was really Lance's special project, she doubted he would get kicked out anytime soon. That didn't stop her blustering and she hissed, "You still owe me a bike."

It was at this time Ash noticed that Misty had red hair, and remembered a few of Gary's snarky comments relating to redheads, often about their temper and distantly wondered if this was where Gary had gotten the stereotype from. If that was the case, then she was probably… "Mary? From Cerulean City?" he asked.

"Misty. How'd you know?" She glared. "I don't have an accent, I know. I spend more time here than-"

"I saw one of your water shows when I was little, with my mom. You weren't in it. You announced it or something." He grinned. "Do you get to go into the shows now that you're older?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to change the subject?"

"Missy, I can't afford a bike."

She groaned. "Misty, you dunce. And you have a scholarship mister…mister whoever the hell you are. I'm sure you can afford to pay me back in installments over the next few months."

"I get five dollars a week," he countered.


"I only get five dollars a week. I have to eat in the school all the time and stuff. My mom only makes money by selling her pies and things. She sends me some extra cash, which is usually five dollars."

"You can't live on that. Why doesn't your dad send you money?"

"I'm really sorry about the bike, Misty, but I can't do anything. If you hadn't hid in the bushes, it wouldn't have happened." And, blushing, he turned away and headed into the building.

"Misty, why'd you have to chase him off?" May scolded. "He looked really upset."

"What do I care about some kid with daddy issues?" she muttered. "Why don't you go show him around, since you like him so much?"

"Will do." May winked. "Call me when you finish sulking."

That ended that, and May gleefully skipped off to Ash's side, who really did look quite upset after the whole incident. "You know, if you're looking for the boys' dorm you're going the wrong way. If you're going to see the principal, I know a quicker way to get there."

He blinked at her. "Uh, principal. Thanks." He laughed a bit. "I don't know where I'm going."

"It's complicated in some places, but you'll pick it up quick," she soothed. "And don't worry about Misty, because she always gets upset when things don't go just her way. She'll get over it in a few hours and you'll get along fine."

"You think?" he asked, smiling.

"Why?" she taunted. "Gonna ask her out?"

He blushed, shaking his head. "No, I'm not just used to making enemies. I mean, if I knew it was just you in there I would have-"

"Oh, Mew, don't worry. We were hiding in the bushes, you're new, you're scared, it happened. We're the ones who screwed up." She spun in front of him. "Don't you dare pay Misty a cent. She can get her own money just fine if she really wants. She just wants to use her free time to play games rather than getting a job."

"But I don't need the money."

"Neither does she! She gets fifty bucks a week, which doesn't include her dorm or anything. She cooks fine for herself, she goes to the movies, she goes to restaurants all with me. She can get a job or give up luxuries if she wants a bike."


"Don't thank me – just don't pay her. She's already started her senior slide. Oh, sure, she won't unpack, but she'll chase down a teacher for an A. She's such a freak, and I don't even know what's going on with Dawn." She paused. "Sorry, you don't want to hear me complain."

"No, it's fine." It felt like friendship, and that was nice. "But, um, I'm supposed to see Elite Lorelei?"

"I know. It's up here on the left," she said, pointing to the staircase they were coming up to. "Is it for your classes?"

"I think so."

"Try to get the craft class. It's an easy A, a nice teacher, and I do teacher's aide for it. If you need help or directions or someone to talk to, I'll be there. As long as you don't get first period. I have an actual class then."


She rubbed Pikachu carefully behind the ears, and the mouse allowed it, although a bit hesitant at a stranger's fingers. "You're going to do fine, Ash. I'm May Maple, I'm a sophomore, and a coordinator. Most importantly, you've got your first friend, and that's the hardest part. It's smooth sailing from here."

"Unless Misty wants to kick my ass."

May laughed in a way that didn't make him feel better at all and walked away without another word. So Ash went inside with a reassuring lick on the cheek from Pikachu. The room was surprisingly small and plain with nothing more than carpet and bookshelves and one large desk surrounded by the chairs. He sat in one and watched the busy looking redhead flick through papers while someone angrily chatted on the phone.

"Your son doesn't do his homework, ma'am. That's why he's failing his classes." She listened. "We've tried. We've talked to him and we've kept him in study halls, we've given him detention, and he's still not participating." The yelling got louder at the other end. "To a point, yes, but after that it's his responsibility and your boy isn't stepping up to the plate." The yelling continued and, with a sigh, Lorelei hung up and smiled at Ash.

"Don't worry, your mother is much nicer to talk to." She leaned forward. "And aren't you a handsome young boy? I can't wait to see how the girls crawl over you!"

He laughed a little. "I don't want them to. I'm just here to battle."

"That's good, because that's why we called you here. Lance handpicked you after he saw you battling Gary Oak. He said you had a kind of raw talent he'd never seen, and I've never heard that man praise anyone so highly." She arched a brow. "I almost expected you to glow."

"Do I?"

"Why, Mr. Ketchum, you almost do." She held his gaze for much too long, then spun to her computer. "We have you in Math, English, Pokémon Care, Battling, History and French."

"Do I need French?"

She smirked. "Would you rather learn Latin?"

"French," he sighed. "Can I have the crafts class?"

"Last period, but you lose one of your study halls."

"That's fine. I have a friend in there."

She grinned. "A girl."

"She's just a friend."

"I'm sure," she said, and did in fact sound like she believed him. "And, from the looks of it, you'll be needing a tutor. Any objections?"

"Tutors get mad at me," he said nervously.

"Alright," she said and her printer whirled into life as she printed the schedule. Pikachu, being the curious monster she was, leapt up onto the machine and pressed an ear to it, listening to it work, then darting back and forth and paper went in one end and flew out warm and covered in quickly drying ink on the other side. "Do you need any help finding the boy's dorm?"

"I'm meeting Gary in the cafeteria," he explained. "He's going to take me to my dorm later on and help me unpack my stuff."

She made a face. "Oh. Gary Oak."

He laughed, used to the reaction. "We're rivals, really, not friends."

"He's very bright, and he's nice enough," she said hurriedly. Lorelei shook her head. "But between the two of us, I think he would make a much better rival than a friend."

"He does," he said, and shook her hand. "Thank you ma'am."

"Enjoy yourself Ash." She smiled warmly, and he felt a genuine interest and care from her. "I'm sure you'll do just fine."

The only thing Misty regretted in her actions was the same thing she regretted every time she did something stupid, and that was how quickly her school warped a rumor. Two days of texting and Chinese whispers had turned hiding in the bushes and spying on the new kid into stalking her long lost lover across campus, only to be rejected by him taking a baseball bat to her bike. That was not what happened, and she wanted to scream it from the rooftop.

She settled for dialing Daisy.

Since she was using a videophone in the middle of the courtyard, this left her open to set the gossip straight, provided she spoke loudly (not that that had ever been a problem). Most importantly, Misty wanted eye contact with her sister, so she could make her eyes big and round and pleading and be much more likely to get a new bike. Unfortunately, Daisy still had connections in Goldenrod, and she picked up looking quite pissed.

"What the hell, Misty?" she asked.

"It's not what you think!"

"Considering I'm being told you tried to rape a guy and he destroyed your bike for it, I really hope so!"

"There was no raping!" she shouted. "I just hid in the bushes and I swear that's all it is. May and Dawn and I just wanted to check out the new kid and he had a wild Pikachu or some crap, but that's it!"

"Why were you hiding in the bushes?"

"To spy on him. Dawn thought he was cute and we wanted to go see if he was! We were messing around!"

"Why didn't you just introduce yourself?"

"Because…" She felt her mouth hang open, surprised she didn't have a retort for that and concluded, "Since when have you been the voice of reason?"

"Since when are you crazy enough to sneak into bushes and follow a boy you have never met around campus?"

"Since…" She sighed, realizing she was stumped twice in one day. "Days, I really need a new bike."

"I heard, Red."

Her nose wrinkled at the nickname. "I can't get anywhere without a bike, and it'd cost more to fix the old one than to just buy a new one. If I could fix it, I would."

"Hey, you know how last year I got custody of you and I had nowhere to beg money from and had to help myself?"

"No," she muttered.

"Guess what? It's your turn!" she snapped, crossing her arms and rocking back in her seat. "I can't bail you out of this! You screwed up, kiddo. This is on you, and you have to fix it, not me, and definitely not that poor kid you freaked out."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"Save your allowance. Public transportation. Get used to walking or," she gave a loud, exaggerated gasp, "get a job!"

"Bikes are pricey!"

"You can save up for one."


"If you hadn't stalked around the kid because you wanted to check out his ass, you wouldn't have this problem."

"I was not checking him out!" Laughs burst from the yard, and she blushed, ducking her head. "I really wasn't."

"Sorry, Misty, but the gym is crunched for cash as it is."

"Why has the gym been slow? Have you had another losing streak?"

She stuck her tongue out, despite the fact that anyone could see her through the public video phone and she was substantially older than her little sister. "No. None of the kids are training here anymore. They all dropped out." She frowned, amending, "Well, not all, but a lot of them. Training's not as big anymore. There's too much other stuff. If you ask me, all these stupid pokémon sports never should have took off!"

"You'll get plenty in a while. The trainer's from last year should be about to start their journeys. They always start in the fall."

"It's not enough. We need to do shows again," she argued.


"On break, you need to do shows."

"What?" she yelped, leaping up from the chair with the phone still securely fastened to her ear. "Absolutely not! You know how I hate doing those stupid shows and…and…and I can't get home anyway! So I'm not doing them!"

"If you want to graduate you'd better. We need all the extra cash we can get. The inheritance won't last forever, and the League isn't that generous."

"But I need a bike!" she shouted, stomping her foot and drawing attention.

"Well, you'll have to find a way to get one! That's what you get for hiding in the bushes and spying on the new hot kid!"

"What's wrong with hiding in the bushes? I couldn't help it! May was the one who got me to do it, but no one ever thinks of her because she's so innocent and her bike wasn't destroyed! And, thinking about that stupid bike, how the hell am I supposed to find a way to get a new one?" Several of the kids in the courtyard giggled, and Misty left, cheeks flaming as the rumors started.

So she did the only thing she knew to do when embarrassed, and that was to grab her things and race out to the large tanks where the water type pokémon were stored. She tossed her red drawstring bag into the bleachers, doing an awkward dance as she struggled to pull her clothes off and reveal the beat up, old, blue bathing suit she wore underneath. And, though she imagined it was only about sixty five degrees outside, she was finally out of what she considered sweltering heat.

Centuries of selective breeding of Kanto's finest gym leaders kept Misty immune to the cold. So while most of the other students had to slip on a wetsuit to swim in the pool, she dove in wearing a one piece bathing suit. She liked her advantage, even though it wasn't as useful as Koga and his family having an immunity to most poisons, or Surge being able to climb an electric fence or walk away from a taser, and certainly not Sabrina and her godly psychic powers. Still, it was nice to never have to wear a sweater and to swim with her favorite type of pokémon without worrying about getting hypothermia.

She was a strong swimmer, of course. She learned how to swim before she could walk, and adored the feeling of water sliding through her fingers and swirling around her feet as she went straight to the bottom and curled up with a cloyster and other bottom dwellers. And though there were air tubes at the bottom, she much preferred the rush of pounding up to the surface to get long, deep gasps of fresh air, the feeling of almost dying happening every three or four minutes.

Today was different, though, because an hour into her swim she had come to breathe again, and came face to face to face with Lance and Ash, the latter clearly getting a school tour from the former. He smiled and waved shyly, which she didn't return. She stroked to the side and hauled herself out of the water, losing her previous sense of weightlessness and hating the wet thud her body made on the concrete. On her next glance at the duo, Ash was gawking.

"What?" she snapped, checking over her one piece. It was fine. No rips, no holes and definitely nothing showing that she didn't want to. So her eyes snapped to him again and she shouted, "What?"

"Aren't you could?" he gasped, looking from her to the water.


"But it's forty degrees!" he cried.

"Is it?" she said curtly. She grabbed her towel from the bleachers, slinging it around her shoulders and grabbing up her bag. "I hadn't noticed."

"You're really not cold?" he asked, wondering.

"Have a good night, Master Lance," she said swiftly, striding out of the room.

She had seen Master Lance one or twice, mostly him speaking to the class at an assembly of some sort. One of the most powerful trainers to ever live, and one of the most skilled, was standing next to Ash Ketchum. The boy destroyed her bike, and Lance was taking an interest in him. She rested her head against the wall, shaking as her heart pounded against her ribcage and her knees weakened, realizing why some hick from Pallet Town was in her school, why some hick was really so important.

He was training to be the next Master of Kanto.

So, this is an American school system. Not because I think it's better than any other, but because, sadly, it's the only one I know. If I knew the Japanese school system well enough, I would, but anytime I try researching it there are so many people claiming that this is a rumor and that's a rumor that I can't quite get it straight.

Also, it's in Fahrenheit. Because Celsius is hard. Well, granted, I could just type it in online, but that would involve an awful lot of effort for something which I know quite a few people who frequently read my stuff would just have to convert back. I'm sorry my foreign country friends. Your metric system really is a lot better, with all it's easy conversions and sensible standard across many countries.

And, last in my horrible amount of Author's Notes (I'm sorry, I really am), Hero is getting up. Unfortunately, we had to put my dog down, who I've had since I was four, and I needed something a bit lighter to work on. I hope you're not too disappointed in me!