Author's Notes:
-No, I do not own any trademarks related to Pokémon.
-I have to confess...I suffer from Fanfic Self-Insertion Syndrome. This is the third anime or game where I have included myself as a character, so please forgive me and try to bear with me. I promise I won't focus the attention on myself all the time.
-Watching Digimon gave me an idea that the Pokémon world is based on real-life Japan (as a matter of fact, the flatland in Japan containing Tokyo and Yokohama is known as the Kanto Plain.) So I don't see Johto, Hoenn, Kanto as being on a planet we wouldn't know, but rather in Japan.

I arrived at the Spring Festival Open in Viridian City as a tangle of nerves with a lot of excitement trapped in between. Much of that anxiety and excitement flooding through me was due to the realization of just what the stakes were because of Japan being the birthplace of Pokémon competitions. I knew a good performance there would do a lot for my reputation and confidence, because know you're something if you do well in a sport in the country where it began.

Little did I know that this was more than just a big opportunity. As a matter of fact, it would lead me to discover a storyline that seemed to occupy my mind more than my results at the tournament.

The Spring Festival Open was eight rounds of straight knockout all the way--drop a battle (or a series in later rounds) and you were done, simple as that. The battle format was also very simple--1-on-1, fight until one team is completely defeated.
I managed to keep a cool head and put myself through to the tournament's Sweet Sixteen, something that had me very pleased as that was my target. The last four rounds were series scheduled for after lunch, so I went off to get something to eat, trying to stay loose. I was helping myself to a chicken sandwich when I heard someone ask, "Are you Carlo Santos, the American?"

A boy who looked about my age was sitting across from me at my table with a hamburger set in front of him.
"Uh, yeah." I said, slightly surprised. Then I recognized the unmistakable spiky hairdo. "Brock Slate?" I asked, now extremely surprised.
"Yeah." He replied, and we grinned and shook hands over the table.
"Wow!" I said. "I can't believe you're here! How come I haven't seen your results or your name in the draw?"
"We got in this morning just before registration closed." Brock replied. "Me and a couple of friends."
Knowing who was on Brock's list of friends, I couldn't help but ask, "Who exactly?"
"Oh, that's them over there." He said, grinning and looking to his left at two more boys walking our way.

"Oh, holy Mother of God. Tracey Sketchit? Ash Ketchum?" I managed to say, absolutely shellshocked as I spotted the talented trainer and artist alongside the superstar Japanese League champion.
"Yep." Brock said.
"Hey, check it out! It's the guy who smashed Gary!" Tracey said, pointing at me. "Carlo Santos, right?" He asked, once he had reached me.
"Yeah." I said, my grin nearly plastered on my face at the praise from high quarters as I groped for words to place after that. "Unbelievably pleased to meet you...and you too." I said, turning to Ash. "Oh, hey, Pikachu." I managed to add, suddenly spotting Ash's all-too-familiar signature Pokémon on his shoulder and waving at it.
"Pika!" It said cheerfully, smiling and waving at me and sticking out its hand.

Despite a slight fear of electric shocks that I had, I reached for it and shook it--and was relieved when it didn't shock me.
"I think he likes you." Ash said. "I saw the highlights of that last battle against Gary. You made him look like an amateur out there!" He added with a grin and just a hint of satisfaction.
It was true that I had faced Gary Oak in the previous round--the round of 32--and had not just upset him, but swept him, knocking out his whole team without losing one of my own Pokémon. "I just had an answer for everything he threw at me--it wasn't the hardest thing in the world."

"Maybe so, but you still looked great." Ash said, looking at the large wall-mounted TV nearby. "You better watch out for him, Brock--you've got to stop him next. They've just made the draw for Round 5."
Brock and I looked at each other.
"Here's to a good one." I said, extending my hand.
"Yeah, let's give them a good fight out there." He answered, taking it and shaking it. "Let's go."
"Hey, good luck to you guys too, okay?" I said, looking at Ash and Tracey.
Both grinned and said, "Yeah", but then Ash looked down at his front at a necklace that I had not seen before hanging down the front of the blue sleeveless jumper he was wearing over his trademark black T-shirt, with blue wind pants, sneakers, socks, and of course, that Pokémon League cap. He hurriedly shoved the necklace down the front of his jumper, between the jumper and his T-shirt.
"What's he doing with his Cascade Badge around his neck?" I asked. It was the sapphire raindrop-shaped badge that had been hanging from his neck on what looked like a small gold chain instead of being pinned on his shirt. "Did the battle to get it mean..."
"Long story." Brock said, cutting me off. "It's a bit sensitive..."Something told me this was not the time to press on and ask for more info, so I nodded, apologized, and fell silent--and then I remembered I was matched against him in the next round, the first of a pair of rounds with best-of-three series.

Of all the things I would have imagined myself doing at that tournament, facing off against a Kanto gym leader, much less one whom I had heard of and admired, was definitely not one of them, so I found my heart starting to hammer. Wonder if this is how it feels to be in an international final, I thought, as we both ran out onto the field made of tamped-down earth with the crowd welcoming both of us with a roar.
Fortunately, as I found out, Brock's Rock-based squad was one that could counter Grass-Type, Steel-Type, and Fighting-Type assaults, but not Water-Type ones. And two of my Pokémon knew Surf while I had one with (I'll reveal my team later) with Earthquake, which was effective against his entire team. Once I knew I had a big chance, my first-time jitters calmed, and I was able to focus on the fights and pull out a 2-0 victory.
New rules had been implemented worldwide stating that if you defeated a gym leader in a tournament, you won the gym's badge. So after I shook hands at center field with Brock and said, "Good game," he placed Pewter Gym's Boulder Badge into my hand, and I pinned it to my shirt with a big grin on my face and then clapped my hands over my head to acknowledge the crowd.

That was as far as I got, though, as Rudolph MacAnders, an Australian gym leader with tournament experience in Japan, got me in the quarters 2-1. That meant that I just missed out on the Ambassador's Award, an honor now traditionally awarded at international tournaments to the best foreign trainer. I still managed to earn some good money, though, and I was still satisfied that I had managed to upset Gary, one of Japan's best, make the Elite Eight in my first tournament in Japan, and that I had managed to come away with a Kanto badge. Ash would sweep Rudolph in the semis 3-0 and go on to beat Tracey in the finals 3-1.
No surprise...I thought, and then I found myself also thinking, If he swept Rudolph aside like that, wonder how much chance I had...The thought left me partly put out and partly in awe. Demoralized, awed, or otherwise, though, I applauded him sincerely with a smile on my face as he was presented with a gold medal and the trophy. I also noticed one thing, though, as I watched him--his smile as he waved to the cheering crowd in that packed stadium looked genuine enough, but was there a twinge of sadness in his face, as if he wished he were somewhere else?

Night had fallen before that awards ceremony. 60 minutes after it finished, I was about to walk into Giacomo's Pizzeria in downtown Viridian for dinner when I heard someone say behind me, "Oh, hey, Carlo!"I turned to see Brock and Tracey coming towards me."Hey, how's it going?" I called, waving at them.
"You wouldn't be heading into Giacomo's, would you?" Tracey said.
"As a matter of fact, I would be." I replied. Then, sensing an opening, I added, "Do you mind if I sit down with you guys?"
"Sure!" Brock said. "Not a problem."
So once we got inside, we began chit-chatting about the events at the tournament, about friends, and about current undertakings. Brock was starting to come into his own as a breeder, and Tracey was starting on a sketch collection to be displayed first at the Fuschia City Art Museum, with both of them of course continuing to train.
"What do you do at home?" Tracey asked.
"Staying in school." I said. "I'm part of my school team back home--and I know this last part may sound a little crazy, but I'm a gym leader as well." I said with a grin."Oh, so you are a gym leader yourself?" Brock asked, evidently interested. "I could see you giving Rudolph something after your quarterfinal and thought it might be a badge, but I wasn't sure."

That was the moment I chose to ask, "Where's Ash?"
"Either out alone or in his hotel room. He's been like that more and more lately." Brock said, his voice becoming more somber and his face starting to look like a cloud had passed over it.
"We're sure the Cascade Badge is related to that." Tracey said. I noticed his voice became graver as well as he said this. "He only wears it beneath his jumper--you just caught it when it was out today for some reason."
"You were on the right track earlier. We know that necklace--or that badge, depending on how you see it, means more to him than any other badge he's won--no, that's not right--more like anything else he's won--but not because the battle for it was memorable. It's more like because of the gym leader." Brock added.

"Oh, my God." I said. "Misty..." I fell silent for a minute, suddenly remembering the girl who had been with Ash through so much of his career and so much of his adventures before I managed to splutter, "Are they...? Do they...?"
"They were everything but boyfriend and girlfriend--no, make that loving boyfriend and girlfriend. We've both seen it for ourselves." Brock said, pointing between him and Tracey, who nodded energetically but seriously.
"You don't say..." I said.
"It's another long story." Tracey said. "Would you still be up for it?"
I nodded briskly. "Go ahead, please." I said almost breathlessly.

For what felt like less than 5 minutes but was at least 20 in actuality, Brock and Tracey gave me basically the condensed history of Ash and Misty, from that first encounter and Maiden's Peak to the "Misty Mermaid" water ballet and the day they had to part ways. I listened very intently--as a matter of fact, I was so interested that I, though thirsty upon arriving at Giacomo's, only took a few sips from my glass of Coke as they laid out the tale--heartwarming until the dismal end, which was how things stood at the moment.
When it was done, I heaved a sigh of "Oh, man..." Two thoughts floated into my head as I digested what I had just heard. One was a joyful realization that I had been right as a child to speculate about Ash and Misty. The second one was much more somber: that Lady Luck, Dame Fortune--call her (or it) what you will--had perpetrated a severe injustice by bringing up the day they had to part.
By the time Brock and Tracey had finished, it had begun to rain outside. And this wasn't just a small shower--it was raining cats and dogs. Was it because the heavens had recognized what a grave error they had made in separating them, or was it the reflection of the rain inside the hearts of one boy and one girl?
"I hope to God it works out..." I said sincerely, looking at the downpour and then at both Brock and Tracey and allowing that cloud to pass over my horizon and sober me up (that's just an expression--I absolutely was not and am not a drinker.)
"You think you're alone?" Brock asked with a flicker of a sad smile, which Tracey also displayed.
"Oh, God, no." I said, shaking my head fervently but still looking at both of them.

Closing Author's Notes: Please review, but please do not blast or flame me just because you're not a fan of AAML or Pokéshipping.