I forgot about this site ^_^;; It must be months since I uploaded anything. 
Well, at least this story is complete, so there won't be the usual months of 
waiting between chapters!


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Child of the Light One - Chapter IV


:It has begun. It is now only a matter of days, maybe hours before my flames 
consume me, and then it is in the hands of fate, fate and fortune. I pray 
for fortune to smile on me. Perhaps the cycle will repeat itself, perhaps I 
will be reborn once again, and he will merely stay as he is, a human who can 
control fire, understand Pokemon and feel, sense the thoughts of others. He 
will learn all of these abilities nonetheless, if he is destined to take my 
place or no. What matters is if he is condemned to this endless cycle of 
life and rebirth, for there is no death in this existence, only brief 
pauses. I curse my selfishness, but do not wish to ignore it, for hell is 
eternal life, a hell I wish to exist in no longer. I would love it for him 
to become my daughter and companion, but although his powers will wax as 
mine do wane, there can only ever be one true Phoenix….:



I can feel the heat radiate from him, as he slips deep into a comatose 
state, and know that I have to do something. The leaden weight of shock and 
fear are suspended by the need to ensure he is alright, he is going to live. 
His grip on me becomes lax, and his breathing slow. Frighteningly slow. I’d 
say from what I can judge his temperature is way above mine, nearer fifty 
than thirty-five degrees….oh no. I heard from his own mouth only a month ago 
that most people die if their temperature gets into the forties. Struggling 
out of his clutches and clearing away the lingering cobwebs of doubt spun by 
the event I’d just witnessed, I tried to work out what to do, anything to 
cool him down. A hammering on the door followed by mixed voices all calling 
for us rules out the idea of leaving the room. His bag catches my eye as an 
idea hatches, and I quickly pull out two Pokeballs. A punch of the two 
buttons brings out a sleepy Cyndaquil and an ever-hyperactive Totodile.

(“Hey!”) Totodile moves to jump onto the bed, but the smoke and a huddled 
red figure on it catches his eye. (“What’s with the smoke? And who’s that?”) 
He looks down his snout at me, while Cyndaquil drowsily raises his nose and 
cautiously sniffs the air.

(“This smell, it’s a smell I should recognise….It’s got something to do with 
fire, and not just the fact there’s smoke…”) I look Totodile in the eye, 
trying to not let a tear slip from mine.

(“That is….Ash.”) His jaw drops, before he takes a step back, head shaking 
frantically.

(“No. Y-you’re lying. It’s covered in red down, it can’t be!”)

(“Red down? Feathers?!”) Cyndaquil, who hasn’t seen him yet, leaps onto the 
bed and gasps. (“Ash, the chosen one, and the feathers of…of….”) He loses 
his voice, eyes dropping to the mattress on which he still lays.

(“Feathers? Ash? What the hell happened here?”) Totodile, with none of his 
normal reckless abandon, looks back at me. (“C’mon, tell us!”) He looks 
angry as I’ve ever seen him, but I force myself to reply with as much 
restraint as I can muster.

(“That can wait. What can’t wait is he’s hot, burning hot. We have to cool 
him down. Please, just sprinkle some water on him and I can tell you then.”) 
Without hesitation he’s on the bed beside Ash's still form, and dousing him 
with a fine mist. Cyndaquil just looks lost in thought as I pull myself up 
beside the two of them, trying to group my thoughts into some semblance of 
order, as difficult as catching fog in a butterfly net.

(“You know Ash has been acting different?”) Totodile nods, still embroiled 
in his effort to cool Ash, while Cyndaquil is still unresponsive. But I know 
he’s listening, and hard. If any of us is smart enough to work it out it’s 
him. (“Well he told me today, and showed me, that he changes physically when 
under stress. He grows…his chest grows. Like Misty's, you know?”) What an 
inappropriate time to feel embarrassed, my cheeks glow slightly and I almost 
slap myself. Too much travelling around with teenagers must rub off on me….I 
notice Totodile giving me a furious look and continue. (“It also happens 
when he’s exposed to things like Pikachus electricity or strong Pokemon 
scents…”)

(“Did he mention any….interest in fire?”) Cyndaquil thoughtfully interjects, 
still not meeting anyone’s eyes.

(“Yes! He kept saying he saw things, images.”) I wait for another question, 
but he’s gone back into his shell.

(“Go on, what happened today?”) Totodile gargles, now spraying his back.

(“He asked me to concentrate my sweet scent and send it at him. He said he 
knew something would happen, but didn’t know what. So I did, and…and…”) The 
memories rise, my greatest companion writhing, consumed by fire, letting out 
such a wild cry, and grab me by the throat. I choke on my own words, but 
this time Totodile sees the tear marks scrawled across my face and doesn’t 
push me, just drops his gaze and continues his misting.

(“What. It’s absolutely vital you tell me what went on next.”) A dry sob 
escapes from me as I turn to Cyndaquil, who is the last one I expected to 
push me. But his normally gentle eyes are burning with intensity, his 
laconic voice terse as a bowstring.

(“It w-was t-tt-terrible…”) I’m crying now, I can feel it. But I don’t care, 
it seems so distant as I fall back into a haze of recollection. (“H-he burst 
into flame…He made this strange cry, nothing I-Ive ever h-heard before, and 
from the flame came these….”) Through my tearful vision I pick out two 
feathers, one red, one black, and give them to him. The gasp he makes is 
enough for me, and I dissolve into shuddering sobs.

(“Totodile, he is…”) He looks stunned, almost awe-struck. Totodile himself 
is looking over Ash with shimmering eyes, only broken by Cyndaquil calling 
his name.

(“What? Do you know what is wrong with him?”) He growls, still unable to 
comprehend what he is seeing.

(“He is…the child of the Phoenix….”) He mutters, reverent to the point of 
prayer.

(“Phoenix?!”) This sounds wrong somehow, as if it was spoken by more than me 
and Totodile…

(“Pikachu! Don’t say a goddamn word!”) Cyndaquil screams as he realises 
Pikachu is listening outside the door, and while Misty can’t hear us she can 
understand every word from Pikachu's mouth. Quick thinking by Cyndaquil 
there, Misty can’t understand him. Just then, we hear Brock's voice 
accompanied by another voice….Nurse Joy….

(“Get him under the covers! Fast!”) I cry to the other two, as the reality 
clicks. Barely a second before the lock. By way of my vines and Totodile's 
agility we draw a spare blanket over him and Cyndaquil, for some reason, 
lights his flame.

“Ash! What’s happened?” Misty lunges into the room, Pikachu at her feet, a 
worried Brock and confused Joy holding a keycard behind them.

(“God, what’s with the smoke?”) Pikachu coughs, before sniffing the air more 
cautiously.

(“Stop Misty!”) I parry her advance with my vines, and search frantically 
for an answer. (“He saw…..that legendary Pokemon out of the window, and it 
let out its call before flashing away in the blink of an eye.”)

(“He called us out in case he needed to defend himself.”) Totodile adds from 
his seat beside me.

(“Then, he just collapsed, I think he’s got a fever. The shock and the fever 
must have overwhelmed him.”) It’s the best truth I can think of at such 
short notice.

“It’s odd to get a legendary Pokemon sitting on your window sill.” Misty 
replies with blatant cynicism, and to my horror, crouches down and looks 
closely at Ash before putting her hand to his head. The moment she does her 
eyes widen, and cheeks blanche with shock. “Jesus Brock, he’s burning up!” 
The phrase innocently spoken by Misty makes me flinch, and I can feel 
Pikachu's gaze become suspicious. Meanwhile, Brock moves over to the bed and 
puts his palm to Ash's head, and he blinks with surprise.

“This is beyond a fever, I’ve never felt a person get this hot.” He moves 
out of the way as Joy moves in for a closer look. She holds her hand to his 
head and takes in the slow breathing, and then grasps the blanket….

(“No!”) My vine winds tightly around her wrist, and she jerks away in 
surprise. (“He’s got nothing on, he was half-way through changing!”) I 
squeal, shuddering at how accurate the statement actually is. (“You know how 
shy he is!”) Misty rapidly translates for Joy, and her face darkens several 
shades.

“Sorry, but he looks like he needs medical help.” I briskly shake my head in 
a “No” gesture.

(“We’ll look after him, if he’s no better later we’ll tell you.”) Meanwhile, 
Brock is looking at the smoke, and a few ashes which have fallen to the side 
of the bed.

“How did this get here?” He asks the room, voice laced with puzzlement. 
Cyndaquil in reply lets out an apologetic squeak, while looking sheepishly 
at the floor. “Oh, I see.” Good thinking Cyndaquil.

“I want to stay here….” Misty begins, laying a tender arm on his Ash's 
sleeping form.

(“No, let us see to him. You go and relax.”) I put as much reassurance as I 
can muster into my voice, but I can still see the doubt painted into her 
eyes.

(“Misty, you can’t do anything here.”) Pikachu stuns me by jumping right in. 
(“I’d say you and Brock should go and relax, and he can get ready for his 
date. I’m sure he’ll be ready and raring to go by tonight.”) Her tone leaves 
no room for argument, and Brock and Joy slowly leave the room. Misty 
falters, but the serious looks on our faces is persuasion enough. Like the 
final leaf leaving a tree in autumn, she slowly drifts out of the door, and 
out of sight. Soon as the door clicks shut Pikachu rounds on us, scarlet 
cheeks sparking.
(“Okay you lot, start talking!”) She looks consumed by fury, fury 
extinguished by Cyndaquil in the space of a heartbeat.

(“He is the child of the Phoenix.”) A few little words, a cataclysmic change 
in her mood, contrast from black to white.

(“No….that’s a myth, a legend….”) She’s backing away, shaking her head. She 
seems….scared? Disbelieving?

(“Legend doesn’t mean it’s not true.”) Cyndaquil looks down at the sleeping 
form, still as if he is some precious jewel.

(“But it’s Ash….he can’t be….he can’t….”) She backs away more, ears 
flattened. (“He’s human! I’ve known him for more than six years….”) Totodile 
snorts at her rejections, and swiftly pulls the blankets away. The gasp from 
Pikachus lips is enough.

(“NOW will you stop ignoring it?”) He snarls, irritated by her constant 
denials. We all look over him, he’s still encased in red down over his 
breast, arms and legs, the flight feathers strewn around him.

(“A-ash?”) She squeaks in barely a whisper. He stirs a little, begins 
breathing a little more easily.

(“Now I know what he meant.”) I know I thought that aloud, but it’s suddenly 
so clear, clear what he was trying to explain to me.

(“What who meant?”) Cyndaquil called, from where he’d huddled against Ashs 
neck.

(“Ash meant. He told me he didn’t want any people to find out what was 
wrong, and Pikachu has shown me why.”) Pikachu clicks back into reality at 
the sound of her voice.

(“What do you mean?”)

(“He didn’t want Misty or Brock to know. Know there is something wrong. He 
tried to explain to me that humans despise what they misunderstand. You, 
you’ve been out with him so long you think like a human, and you’ve 
panicked, tried to deny reality. I’ve accepted it now, and these two had no 
qualms at all, but you’re like someone who has been stung. Imagine what 
would happen if Misty were to find out….”) By the end of my explanation 
Pikachu has her eyes cast away in shame and Totodile is deep in thought. I 
can’t resist it, I feel the need to put her through the wringer for her 
response take control. (“So are you going to abandon him now?”) Cyndaquil's 
eyes flick up and Totodile, with unusual presence of mind, looks ready to 
jump in.

(“I never would!”) But there's guilt there, in the very core of her heart. 
And I feel this need, this irrational need to punish it.

(“Like hell! The only thing that stopped you running away the moment you 
found your beloved Ash was different was shock, else you would have been out 
of that door!”) She backs away as I advance, bewildered.

(“I would stand by him, as I always have…”) She protests, but I cut her off.

(“Bullshit! You’re just like Ayla!”) Her eyes and cheeks sparkle with fury 
at the denunciation.

(“You never, ever compare me to her you bitch….”) Her voice now the honeyed 
purr of glistening menace.

(“Why? Are you afraid of the similarities I might find?”) We’re edging 
closer to each other, lines of sight fringed by red.
(“Don’t dare, don’t even dare….”) Her cheeks sparkle brightly, and I feel 
every muscle in me tense in anticipation….

(“Shut up! BOTH of you!”) Totodile leaps between us, and I unconsciously 
square up to him. (“And if you’re thinking of making an issue of it 
Chikorita, just remember who’s behind me. Ash, who doesn’t need any more 
hassle, and Cyndaquil who will roast you alive if he gets it.”) The red mist 
fades as I look past him to a nervous but determined Cyndaquil and the 
silent face of my trainer. I can feel shame seeping into me, shame at being 
so heartless, so reckless.

(“I wasn’t being like her at all! I would never, ever betray him! I was 
just….scared. No, I was terrified, and I’m sorry…”) Pikachus distress echoes 
the way I felt, the fear consuming me when he burst into flame before my 
eyes. Fear which slams back into me with the force of a diesel train, and I 
can feel my legs fold, the sweet caress of the blankets as I sink into them, 
the tears burning trails of liquid fire down my face, the scream tearing to 
get out….three pairs of arms embrace me, and I look up through wet eyes to 
see Cyndaquil looking at me with smouldering compassion.

(“Come on Chikorita, it’s okay. I know it’s hit you harder than any of us, 
he burst into flames in front of you.”) His gentle embrace has the power to 
extinguish the scream which wrenched at me, now sucked into a vacuum and 
disposed silently.

(“Yeah, and don’t think being like a human is such a bad thing. Pokemon 
aren’t that dissimilar to them, shock and sorrow sound the same no matter 
what the language you express them in.”) Pikachu. How could I have gone at 
her like that. She’s right, exactly right. And she’s accepted Ash already, I 
can see it in her eyes as she moves around, moves so she’s stood in front of 
me.

(“I-I’m so sorry…I should never ha-have said those things…I’m not worthy of 
your attention….”) I close my red-rimmed eyes, and feel her sit down in 
front of me, just waiting for me to open them again. I don’t know if I want 
to, every time I see Ash I see him burning, when I look at Pikachu I 
remember what I said to her….

(“Come on Chikorita, we need ideas.”) I feel Pikachu wipe away the streaks 
of wetness from my face, and I slowly crane around to see Totodile, gazing 
at the silent form with a thoughtful look.

(“Why?”) Pikachu gets up from her seat in front of me, and walks over to 
him.

(“I can’t keep spraying him down forever you know.”) He replies, idly 
scratching his snout.

(“Chikorita, how’s about getting him to a shower?”) Cyndaquil, still beside 
me, whispers. Why didn’t I think of that? Emotion clouds thought with the 
effectiveness of mist across a meadow.

(“Great idea. He told me he’s had little things like this before and the 
feathers came off in the shower.”) He looks at me intently for the briefest 
moment, before calling across to the others.

(“Hey, why don’t we get him to a shower? All we have to do is work out which 
one.”) Pikachu and Totodile glance at each other, before nodding.

(“The only choice is the one down the corridor, where he was this morning.”) 
I put in, and smile as Cyndaquil gives me a confirming pat.

(“I don’t think I’m going to be able to help carrying him, though. I’m not 
as good upright as the others, and don’t have your vines….”) He looks so 
woebegone that I feel selfish for bringing attention to myself earlier.

(“Hey, we have to work as a team. We need someone to check out the way 
ahead, make sure the room is clear, open and shut the doors and keep a hold 
of the key.”) He looks back up, and slowly gives me a gentle smile, which 
makes it feel worthwhile.

(“Thanks, I’m just being foolish aren’t I?”) I can feel my face colour, and 
look down at the bed, mumbling something about of course not.

(“When you two are finished…..”) I look back around to see a pair of staring 
faces, the yellow one wearing a slight grin, the blue one bemusement.

(“Yep, finished here.”) Cyndaquil sounds completely unruffled. (“Now, give 
me the key, and I’ll go check the room is empty. Oh yeah, and don’t forget 
to make sure you bring the blanket too, I’ve heard how much he cherishes his 
privacy….”) He almost skips from the bed and, after grabbing the key, heads 
for the door handle. A few slightly embarrassing attempts later, he stops 
and turns to us. (“Is there a knack to this thing?”) It’s all I can do to 
avoid giggling like a schoolgirl as Pikachu hops down and shows him the 
leap-hang-kick door opening technique, before he makes his way from the 
room. Amazing, if I’d fallen over four times in a row whilst trying to open 
a door I’d have probably hidden in the chest of drawers out of 
embarrassment, but he just kept getting up and trying again, and when he did 
get it open he still looked unbothered. We wait in pensive silence until we 
here someone jump up to the handle on the other side of the now shut door. A 
couple of seconds, and a soft thump. The thump of Cyndaquil falling onto the 
floor.

(“You put the key in first!”) Pikachu calls, and again I can feel a smile 
tug at my mouth. It took me a week to get used to doors, and three to get 
used to not laying directly behind one.

(“Come ‘ere…..gotcha!”) The door swings open….about a centimetre before 
shutting again, and a soft thump from the other side suggests Cyndaquil is 
probably feeling like he’s got Déjà vu about now. A couple more seconds, 
sounds of movement, and this time the door swings open about a foot. He 
dives through the gap, key in his mouth, before it clicks shut again. (“No 
problem! The room is vacant, I can’t hear anyone in lobby either.”) I sigh 
in relief, and wrap my vines around Ashs waist, before jumping down from the 
bed and easing him to its edge. Totodile grasps his legs and Pikachu his 
chest as he slips off completely, and Cyndaquil pops the door open. He casts 
a final look down the hall before nodding to us and pushing it open wide. As 
we edge through the door I laugh suddenly, it’s just occurred to me how this 
would look to a human who can’t see any of us. He’d just see a boy floating 
past, blankets sliding on the floor either side of him and apparently fast 
asleep. Be a bit of a shock I imagine. The three of us shuffle cautiously 
down the corridor to the common room doorway, and I hear Cyndaquil repeat 
his trick. Pikachu leads us in, and I catch a glimpse of the sofa she’d had 
an altercation with earlier in the day as she steers us to the male 
bathroom. I just see Cyndaquil, casual as always, leap up to the handle….

(“…We got a problem.”)

(“Huh?”) Totodile and I share a blank look.

(“It’s locked, must be occupied.”) Ah. Pikachu looks thoughtful.

(“Only one thing for it.”) She craned her head to look up at Cyndaquil, 
still clutching the male bathroom door handle. (“Check if the ladies is 
occupied, and quick. My arms are getting tired fast.”) Cyndaquil flashes 
through my vision as he lands and springs off to my right. Another leap, a 
click…..

(“It’s empty.”) I hear Pikachu sigh in relief, and she steers us to the 
other door. We shuffle through into the bathroom, and gratefully set him 
down against the pinkish tiles. It’s beyond me why they always put pink and 
peach in ladies bathrooms around these places, logic says there must be some 
reason but for the love of god I can’t find it.

(“Get him into the bath.”) Totodile gestures, indicating the shower 
attachment is part of the bath.

(“We’re going to have to pull him up.”) Pikachu puts in, giving it an 
appraising look. (“We’re not tall enough to put him in from down here.”) I 
instantly get up onto the side of the bath, and wrap my vines securely 
around his waist.

(“I’ll do it, I’ll drag him up. Just hold onto the sheet while I pull, we 
don’t want it getting soaked so its best if we take it off him now.”) In 
response, Totodile grabs the sheet, while Pikachu hops up beside me to lend 
a hand. A click causes us to both look up hurriedly, and gasp in relief to 
see Cyndaquil hanging off the lock. Another sharp piece of thinking.

(“Ready?”) I brace myself the best I can, and nod. Then, I pull cautiously, 
and he slowly slides over the side of the bath and into it. Totodile is 
already on the way to the taps, and as I watch he turns the cold tap full 
on…..the water thundering out of the tap itself and smashing into his face.

(“Turn it to shower! The lever on the right!”) Pikachu calls from beside me, 
and he responds with a swift kick to it. The spray lands right on his chest, 
and I can see it steam slightly. But it’s working, he’s looking more 
comfortable and, as I watch, he turns a little onto one side, sighing 
deeply. Relief floods through my system, and I sag slowly down until I’m 
laying on the side of the bath, just watching in silence.

(“Is it working?”) Cyndaquil appears to my left, nervous eyes watching the 
water. I can understand why, he’s scared of running water, always has been.

(“Looks like it.”) As I speak a handful of scarlet feathers detach from his 
chest, and float off into the rest of the water. He gives a tiny, relieved 
groan, and settles down to watch.

(“But there is another problem.”) He adds in a calm voice, a calm voice 
which has the instant attention of the rest of us.

(“And that is?”) Totodile asks quietly, listening.

(“Just a moment ago, I heard someone come into the common room. And it 
sounds like they’ve brought the television from their room with them….”) The 
only sounds in the whole room are the hissing of the shower, the spattering 
of the water as it hits Ash, and our breathing….and there, barely 
discernible, the sound of a chat show….and a nervous sigh, a sigh I know 
very well.

(“Misty, yes?”) I nod without looking at Pikachu, before we simultaneously 
groan.

(“Brock's kicked her out so he can finish getting ready. Which means she’ll 
be here for about an hour…”) Brock is normally meticulous about getting 
ready to go out, and tonight, when he’s meeting up with Suzy, will be no 
exception.

(“….So we’re stuck”) She finishes for me.

(“And we have to be quiet, she knows someone is in here, but if she knows 
its us….”) This is getting better and better. To my surprise, Cyndaquil hops 
down and settles on the floor, looking back up at us.

(“So, anyone for truth or dare?”)




(“What?!”) It’s all I can do to not scream with laughter. It all seems so 
surreal, sitting here in a bathroom with Ash still unconscious under the 
shower, being told by Totodile about the time he tried to give a Marril a 
love bite. He’s just proven why it’s not a good idea when you have more 
sharp teeth than a chainsaw.

(“Well how was I to know?”) He’s well embarrassed now, which doesn’t help my 
attempts to keep silent. Cyndaquil is sniggering to my left, and Chikorita 
is currently biting her leaf in a valiant attempt to mute herself.

(“Sounds like you were a bit of a Romeo in your youth, nice to see you’ve 
matured…..”) Cyndaquils dry comments aren’t helping me any either. I’ve 
known what Totodile is like for a while, his personality stamps itself on 
you instantly, but Cyndaquil has been an enigma for a long time. It’s only 
over the last hour I’ve come to appreciate his dry humour and breezy 
outlook, not to matter his exceptional wits once he’s fully awoken. Judging 
by Chikoritas average centre of attention she’s noticed it too, and is 
intrigued. Scratch that, she’s infatuated.

“Uuuuuhn….” A faint groan, barely discernible above the still running water 
destroys the communal atmosphere instantly, as Chikorita spins on a 
sixpence. “Wha? Wh-why am I so wet? Okay guys, this a really bad 
joke….normally you only put the hand in water Brock….” In a flash I’m up the 
side of the bath, and down onto him, trying frantically to shush him. Misty 
must already be suspicious that the shower has been running a hour, she must 
think someone is trying to drown themselves without putting the plug in. 
Slowly, his hazel eyes open and dazedly focus on me. “P-Pikachu?” I put a 
finger to my lips slowly, and after a second he closes his mouth. I can see 
questions building up within, especially as those eyes of brown slowly take 
in the surroundings. He knows where he is, the peach and pink décor make it 
obvious. The eyes travel slowly along the edge of the bath where the others 
are watching, first Cyndaquil cutely poking this head over the side wearing 
a broad smile, Totodlie grinning like only he can, and then…. “I’m sorry.” 
Chikorita, red eyes filling with fresh tears.

(“Don’t be.”) Her voice is a bare crackle, static-like. (“It’s not your 
fault, why must you think that way?”) He looks down, away from her.

“But I scared you so much, just because I was too nosy to let well alone.” 
He’s confused himself, perhaps he’s even slightly delirious.

(“Ash, if curiosity is such a sin, then strike me down where I stand.”) I 
force him to look at me, cupping his chin in my paws. (“The most important 
thing is we’re all still here, and together.”) I can feel how corny that 
must have sounded, but as I look at my reflection in the black pupil, framed 
by hazel, I can tell it’s worked.

“Excuse me, but there are others in this centre who want to use the 
facilities you know!” An irate female voice echoes into the room, definitely 
spoken by an equally irate red head whose curiosity has outweighed her 
patience.

(“Uh? There’s a toilet in our room!”) Chikorita gives me a puzzled look, 
which I reply to by rolling my eyes at the ceiling.

(“She wants to know who’s taking so long! She’s heard talking, and wants to 
know what’s going on.”)

(“So whadda we do?!”) She looks like panicking, not thinking things through 
as usual.

(“The only thing we can do, tell her the truth. Tell her why we’re here, and 
what we’re doing. Ash has lost all traces of his transformation now, so we 
pretend we just brought him here to cool him off. It’s the main reason 
anyway.”) Totodile suggests, shrugging.

(“I’ll go with that.”) Cyndaquil nods his affirmation.

“What if she asks what I’m doing in the girls bathroom? Come to think of it, 
what am I doing here?” Ash puts in, slowly pulling himself up and trying to 
avoid the whirlpool of nausea dragging at him.

(“Truth again. The gents was occupied and he needed to be cooled down 
quick.”) Totodile has got the idea.

(“Remember, no bluffs. We all know the reasons, if we start inventing any 
we’ll make mistakes.”) I hop out of the bath, and run over to the door. 
Taking a deep breath, I leap up and twist the lock, and go flying backwards 
as Misty shoves the door open.

“Okay, what’s going on…?” The sentence tails off as her eyes first take in 
me on the floor looking royally pissed at the unwanted flying lesson I’d 
just received, then to Chikorita and Totodile perched on the side of the 
bath, and then Ash looking dazed under the still running cold shower with 
Cyndaquil perched protectively on his chest. On his chest - I should give 
Cyndaquil a medal for foresight, Ash hasn’t returned to normal that way yet.

“What the hell? Ash, you pervert!” She almost shrieks the last word, 
although I’m not sure if she’s that shocked or if she just wants to make a 
bit of a scene, to make him notice her. Well, with the way my ears are 
ringing he can’t have failed to. She struts past me, and looks down at him.

“Uh, hi.” He looks sheepish, not surprisingly. That turns to bashfulness, 
and Chikorita looks ready to slap Misty purple. I can’t blame her for giving 
him the once-over now, she probably feels she has the right, being on her 
turf with him in the wrong. I suppose Ash is simultaneously glad and 
embarrassed he hasn’t changed….in that way yet. What the hell am I 
thinking?! I’m supposed to be explaining this away, and I’m theorising on 
how Ash feels to have his potential girlfriend staring at him from a few 
feet. Bet he wishes the water wasn’t cold….someone slap me! Misty finally 
realises she’s staring, and decides she can only get away with her bout of 
voyeurism for so long.

“Care to explain, maybe you’re going to suggest this isn’t what it looks 
like?” She places her hands on hips, and cocks her head in a typical 'I’m 
waiting' pose.

“Don’t ask me, I was unconscious.” The quiet response. It’s thrown her 
completely, her hands slip from her hips, and she glances at Chikorita to 
her left.

(“Uh, he was getting hotter, so we brought him down here to cool him off.”) 
She begins, at first faltering but becoming more confident.

(“We tried the gents, but it was locked so we had to bring him in here.”) 
Cyndaquil adds, still lain over Ashs chest, trying to ignore the thorough 
soaking he’s receiving.

“Why didn’t you knock our door and put him in our shower?” Although 
Cyndaquils comment passes her by, Misty has the other three stumped so I 
jump in.

(“Brock was using the bathroom.”) She cranes around to look at me, and out 
of her sight Totodile gives me the thumbs up.

“Okay….but why wouldn’t you let me in?” She walked into the trap.
(“What, with him….you know?”) She blushes the colour of a cherry grove, 
trying to avoid everyone’s eyes. It’s taken time, but embarrassment has 
finally slapped her cheeks, leaving them rosy. I guess she’s realised it’s 
never a good idea to check someone out, even if they are giving you a 
blatant opportunity.

(“Judging by earlier, you know fully that he’s you know.”) Totodile sniggers 
at Chikoritas wry comment, leaving Misty with a face now reminiscent of a 
tomato.

“Maybe she’s besotted by my wonderful figure?” Ashs lingering comment added 
to by a coy wink almost makes her pass out from embarrassment. He’s almost 
dying from embarrassment himself, being watched like that, but he can’t 
resist a chance to joke either.

(“Hey Misty, could you go and get Ash some clothes?”) Chikorita asks, 
clearly wanting to get her, well, out.

(“No, you go get him some Chikorita.”) She looks ready to dispute Cyndaquils 
request, but he gives her a definite look. One which screams that debate is 
not an option. Ah. He’s just won another medal. If she goes into the room 
and sees those feathers, the mess the room is in…judging by the look on 
Chikoritas face she’s just worked this out too.

(“Okay.”)

(“Get something loose, it’ll keep him cool.”) And fit his figure. Cyndaquil 
is going to be treated like a king after this, that’s three times in a 
minute he’s covered our backs now. Chikorita scuttles past Misty, gives me a 
knowing wink, and leaves.

“Uh, sorry Ash….” Something hard to define shimmers in Mistys speech, almost 
like guilt. Maybe combined with desire?

“It’s okay. But you can do me a favour…” She moves closer, keenly listening. 
“…let me change in private, you know I’m more than a little shy.” She almost 
falls flat on her face, and I can’t fight the urge to giggle. Meanwhile, 
Totodile has turned the water off, for which the soaked Cyndaquil gives him 
a “Queel” of thanks.

“Yeah, I’ll uh, leave you alone. But I’ll be waiting outside in case you try 
passing out on us again, you hear?” He takes her comment with a gentle 
smile.

“Yeah, thanks Misty.” She reluctantly turns around and strolls out of the 
door, pulling it slightly behind her. I finish the job by kicking it shut, a 
little more firmly than I would have liked.

(“Cyndaquil, you are a god!”) Totodile hops down beside me as Cyndaquil 
pulls his bedraggled form out of the bath, and tries to shake the water off, 
with little success.

(“Nah, I just did what needed to be done.”) He shrugs modestly, dark eyes on 
the door. (“I’m just wondering if Chikorita will remember towels.”)

“It’s no problem if she didn’t, they’re over there on the towel rail.” Ash 
pulls himself up slowly, nodding to one side of the bathroom beside the 
sink.

(“Uh, that would make it irrelevant, yes.”) He walks over, cranes up onto 
tiptoes to grab one, and does. This is followed by a surprised squeak, a 
split-second of frantic scrabbling and a cascade of peach, and finally by a 
pile of towels where Cyndaquil was. It’s enough for Totodile to almost break 
into a tap-dance, and more than enough to have me eating the floor tiles. 
Ash smiles as he wetly walks over to the shuddering heap and pulls the 
towels off him.

“Takes practise to be domesticated, doesn’t it?” He adds with a winsome 
grin.

(“It took me about five tries to open a door!”) Cyndaquil chuckles, and to 
my surprise Ash chuckles as well. Cyndaquil looks like he expected it, 
though.

(“Ash, how can you understand him? He hasn’t been with you like I have.”) I 
gaze up at him, and can see him thinking. In the end he just shakes his 
head, puzzlement clear to see.

“Don’t know. But didn’t you notice I understood Vulpix this morning? 
Somehow, it all seems familiar.”

(“It’s all part of being the child of the Phoenix…”) My eyes flick back up 
to Ash to see him freeze. Eventually he gains enough control to hesitantly 
whisper a few words.

“Ch-child of the w-h-a-t?” Cyndaquil peers up at him, face lined by concern.

(“Didn’t you know yourself?”)

“No…..I knew nothing…..” Ash's eyes betray the quiet tone of his voice, they 
are framed in the midst of a scream.

(“It’s a legend taught to all fire types, and many other Pokemon by their 
parents. But surely…”) He finally sees his face, and frowns. (“No, you 
didn’t know. But you have to have been told, else you wouldn’t be unable to 
understand…”)

(“I’m baa-aack!”) Chikorita struts into the room, and deposits some clothes 
on the floor. This seems to shock Ash back into consciousness, and he sifts 
through the pile.

(“Misty?”) I ask her.

(“Sitting on the sofa, straining her ears with every muscle she has.”) As 
expected.

“Chikorita, I love the aesthetically pleasing green motif…” Ash begins, with 
a tiny smile, “…but you forgot something didn’t you?”

(“Eh?”)

“You know I have a nice pair of green boxer shorts which would have gone 
with this lot.” She blushes, and I resist the opportunity to ask her 'Now 
who’s acting human?'

(“Well, you did, but you kinda….torched them about an hour ago.”) Fair 
enough.

“Ah well, these’ll do. Shame you couldn’t get something out of Misty's 
bottom drawer too, it’s going to be a while until I fully get back to my 
normal figure. By the way,  I didn’t burn your pyjamas did I?” Pyjamas? 
Chikorita shakes her head, leaf flapping lazily with it.

(“No, you set them aside before we began.”) He looks relieved, she looks 
happy. I probably look irritated.

(“Care to develop on that statement?”) I twitch my tail in mild annoyance, 
it irks me when Ash doesn’t tell me something. A little like it irks Misty, 
in fact.

“She asked my to make her pyjamas.” He replies, dropping voice to a murmur. 
Probably doesn’t want Misty hearing. “The offer is open to anyone else who 
wants some, it’s a bit of a hobby.” Interesting.

(“Shall we go out? She’ll be coming in soon otherwise.”) Totodile points 
out, and to unanimous nods of approval. Pyjamas, hmmmm? Maybe I’ll ask him 
for a pair.




I look up as the others come into the room, a red-faced Misty leading an 
equally flush Ash, and grin. I wonder if I should tell them that they look 
like a pair of matching stop lights, but I don’t need Tracey to tell me 
sarcasm is not a good idea. A quick look at Ash is enough, it looks like 
embarrassment and fear are fighting a pitched battle, with no-one gaining 
ground fast. It does surprise me a little to see Totodile and Cyndaquil 
follow him in after them, Cyndaquil looking more than a touch damp.

“Having fun people?” Okay, sarcasm is off limits, but I can risk a little 
irony.

“I bet she was….” Ash grumbles, drawing a murderous glance from one of his 
female companions and titters from the others. Cyndaquil murmurs something, 
and the titters explode into gales of laughter. Misty looks confused, but 
Ash looks like he heard them. The fact that he spins around and gives 
Cyndaquil the sort of glare Medusa would have looked away from. “Care to 
repeat that?”

“Cynda-cynda-cynda-quiiiieeeel!” For some reason, this makes him turn to the 
consistency of mush, and more thunderclouds drift over Ash's face.

“Cyn cynda cynda queel.” Uh….my eyes centre on him at exactly the same 
moment as every other eye, brown, blue or red does in the entire room. He 
shifts a little, puzzled and ever so slightly nervous. “Uh, what’s the 
problem guys?”

“Care to repeat what you just said?” Misty's face portrays her puzzlement 
clearly as the tone of her voice.

“I said, uh, it’s a good thing I owe you one.” Cyndaquil seems to relax 
while the others keep staring at him.

(“Ash, could you tell me the first line of that….thing you told me earlier? 
You know, outside the perfume shop?”) I don’t know what Chikorita means by 
that, but after a moment he nods.

“Oh, if I must….Shall I compare thee to a summers day?” Okay, he sounded 
normal.

(“Are you sure?”) She pushes.

(“Of course, you saying I’m wrong?”) He replies flippantly, in a carbon copy 
of Chikorita's speech. This time, he catches that what he said and how it 
sounded didn’t match. “….Oh shit.” He looks like he’s been slapped, sinking 
down on the bed with a suddenly pale face and shaken eyes.

“Cynda queel, cynda-aquil. Cynda….” Somehow, whatever Cyndaquil says 
reassures him, and he looks down at him.

“Cyn, cynda….da queel, cynda cyndaqueel…..” Cyndaquil just shakes his head 
and leaps up into his lap, where he cranes up to Ashs ear and starts 
whispering, with him occasionally replying under his breath.

(“Well excuuuuse me!”) Chikorita scowls, abashed that she isn’t being let in 
on the conversation.

“Cynda, cynda queel.” Cyndaquil replies calmly, sending Pikachu, Totodile 
and Chikorita into fits, two of laughter, one of anger.

“Wha? Whassat?” Pikachu turns to Misty, and smiles.

(“He said 'fine, you’re excused.'”) Misty giggles, which doesn’t exactly 
help Chikorita's mood any. Well much as I would like to watch this potential 
domestic dispute heat up, time is calling.

“Anyhow guys I’m afraid I must be off, don’t want to keep a lady waiting!” I 
get slowly to my feet, and brush some imaginary dust off my loose black 
shirt, before giving myself a final look down. Shimmery black shirt, dark 
trousers and black shoes, yup, all set. I can’t believe I’m going on a 
genuine date, a date with an old flame. It’s a dozen Christmases all drawn 
into one night….

“Lemmie get this straight Brock. Black shoes, dark trousers, white socks?” 
The bubble I’m floating in bursts abruptly, replaced by echoes of Mistys 
sarcastic voice. In the bat of an eyelid my shoes are off, and I’m burrowing 
through my bag to find a black pair that don’t smell like they’ve been worn 
by the London Marathon winner before being passed on to a pig farmer, and 
then borrowed by a sewage worker before somehow falling into my bag.

“Hang on, I’ve got some special ones in my room.” Ash breaks off from the 
whispered conversation, and gives me a wink as he says “special”. Read 
special as hand-made. He takes the key from Chikorita, and hurries from the 
room. For some reason, an uneasy, pensive silence descends as soon as he is 
gone, only breaking as he re-enters, tossing a pair of black socks at me. 
Well, socks is a misnomer to be honest. “Double-looped cotton and nylon 
cross-weave and padded by a wool lining. Perfect for people who want to 
dance all night. Not being a twenty-four hour party person, I haven’t worn 
them yet.” I return the wink, and pull them on, followed by my shoes. 
Standing up, I stretch slowly and take a deep breath.

“Thanks Ash, you’re a pal. These make me feel like I’m walking on air.” I do 
my best gliding strut over to the door, and pull it open. “Okay guys, don’t 
wait up!” With that, I let the door shut behind me, and start the now 
seemingly infinite walk to the Noctowl Café, for what could be the best 
night of my life.




One, the Phoenix is a god of all Pokemon, for all eternity it shall live.
Two, there can only be one true Phoenix.
Three, the only the Phoenix itself can select a child, a successor.
Four, there are five stages of transformation. Seeing, sensing, speaking, 
feeling and controlling. Seeing images, sensing moods, understanding and 
speaking Pokemon, feeling the thoughts and ideas of others, and finally 
being able to control the elements, fire, wind and water at a whim.
Five, the dying Phoenix and child will meet on the night of the passing, 
where destiny will decide.
The five laws of the Phoenix, taught to me by Cyndaquil, chase each other 
through my head, and I’m unable to rest. I know I’m through the third stage 
of transformation, and I’m scared. Petrified. I’d asked him if I would still 
be myself, if it could be reversed, how it would be decided, and he said the 
facts had never been written, only the Phoenix itself knows. My fidgeting is 
starting to irritate Misty, who has had enough of the whispers and tense 
silence.

“How the hell did you know that bollocks about double-looped cotton 
etcetera? And how the hell did you afford them?” Her gaze has turned hard 
again. She’d been fussing and talking about nothing in particular for hours, 
trying to draw me into some argument or another. Almost four hours in fact. 
It’s rapidly approaching darkness outside, and her whole afternoon and 
evening thus far has been filled with the usual time-killing pastimes. For 
example, watching rubbish and talking exactly the same. At least the 
atmosphere has relaxed with that outburst, I’m trying my utmost to forget my 
current predicament, and Misty is trying to forget the incident in the 
bathroom. So far, we haven’t had too much success. Also, she’s getting 
suspicious by the way I keep drawing my knees to my chin to hide my torso, 
which is showing no signs of reverting.

“Well, my mum does a lot of needlework, imagine having to look after me for 
so many years? And two, since I paid you back for the bike I do have a 
little money for luxuries….” Ah yes the day I paid her back. We’d arrived in 
Cerulean for her fourteenth, and in addition to a Gyarados and the silver 
Seaking pendant, I got her the bike. A vision of blue and gold. Chrome 
wheels, hydraulic disc brakes, modern gear system, the works. It’s a good 
thing I was a successful trainer at that point, and had battle and 
advertising money rolling in from victory in Orange, Johto and Indigo. The 
time I lost in the final of the Johto Masters was only my second tournament 
loss in six years.

“…Yeah, maybe….” I can see her eyes glaze over, and know she’s mired in the 
same reminiscence. From the moment she set eyes on it she was speechless. 
For about two days I couldn’t detach her from the saddle. But the third day 
after her birthday I had to go back to Pallet to see my mother, who at the 
time had cancer, now thankfully in remission. She was about to go under an 
intensive period of treatment, and although she assured me Sam Oak would 
look after her, there was no way I wasn’t going to be there, come hell or 
high water. But Misty got angry, then tearful when she realised she couldn’t 
persuade me to stay. I hadn’t told her why, it would have spoiled her 
birthday, but I could see it was tearing at her, she didn’t want to leave 
me, but her pride was making it difficult for her to admit it. So I asked 
her to come, told her it wouldn’t be the same without her, which it wouldn’t 
be. It’s a good thing I was starting to change emotionally then, else 
through pride we may have gone our separate ways.

(“Hel-lo?”) Pikachu breaks in, and I notice all four of the Pokemon staring 
from me to Misty and back again, wondering whether we’d just died on the 
spot simultaneously.

“Uh sorry, miles away.” Misty shakes back into reality, and gives me a 
smile. “How’s about we get Joy to lend us the centre video player, and we 
get us some take-away and a film?” The pretty unanimous agreement from the 
other four is more than enough to persuade me.

“Okay, what film do you fancy? If you get the video player and order the 
food, I’ll find the local video store and get it out.” Her aquamarine eyes 
fade out of focus for a moment, before she looks back at me.

“One of my all time favourites - The sixth sense?” She blinks as the four 
Pokemon and I instantly sweatdrop. “No, do you not like that one?”

“I’ve never seen it, it just feels ironic, since I seem to have acquired 
one.” She smiles, obviously thinking of when I unknowing spoke in 
Cyndaquil-ese.

“Okay. The Green Mile? I heard it’s a wonderful film.”

“Oh, it is. But it’s also an 18 certificate, with a few things in it you 
might not like….” I also don’t tell her I’d seen it before when she went out 
for an evening, and went through an entire Kleenex box. I didn’t sleep a 
wink that night either, whenever my eyes shut I could see John Coffey with 
those poor girls in his arms. She looks momentarily abashed, before lapsing 
back into thought.

“What women want? You could pick up a few tips.” The coy way she glances at 
me with that statement removes any possible insult, but I rise to the bait 
and put on a pretence of false offence.

“Are you saying I’m insensitive?”

“Yes, as it happens.” I turn away, nose in the air.

“Fine. Perhaps I won’t get a movie.” Her high-pitched laugher floats over my 
shoulder, and I can just imagine the look on her face.

“Fine, if you want to be like that.” Haughtily spoken.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“Terrific.”

“Splendid.”

“….”

“….”

“….Ever seen Forrest Gump?”

“I knew you’d crack first!” She spins around, and bursts into laughter.

“Well, I’m just a big softie aren’t I?”

“Yep!” I put on my best woebegone puppy look.

“Hey, that was your cue to jump in and restore my masculine pride, not agree 
with me!” I can’t stop the grin slicing across my mouth.

“Better to know the truth than live in ignorance…..”

(“Uh, we’re enjoying this and all, but do you think we might get to see the 
film sometime tonight?”) Pikachu bumps in, looking undecided whether to 
enjoy the show or shock us. It’s only then I notice that Misty and I are 
standing barely a foot apart, and inching closer. God knows our destination 
if she hadn’t just stopped the conversation.

“So, what is the movie?”

“….Romeo and Juliet? You know, the modern re-make, with the classical 
language?” Misty couldn’t look more surprised if I’d ran into the busy 
street outside with my boxers on my head only wearing her panties and a belt 
before serenading the whole city with team rocket’s theme song. Well, she 
never knew I read Shakespeare did she?

“Why would you want to watch that?” It’s clear from a quick glance that the 
others mirror her confusion exactly, with the exclusion of Chikorita who 
just gives me a knowing wink.

“Because it’s my all time second favourite Shakespeare play, behind 'A 
Midsummer Nights Dream.'”

“Oh-kay…” I get the feeling her opinion of me has just changed permanently. 
“I still can’t believe you’d suggest a romance. Are you sure you’re Ash 
Ketchum?” I’m about to admit that no, I’m not, but common sense steps in.

“Hey, if it makes you feel reassured, there is violence in it which makes it 
acceptable for a man to watch.” I can’t keep a snigger out of my voice as 
she looks suitably chastised.

“Sorry, stereotypes again!” I cast a knowing glance to Chikorita, who reads 
it perfectly and nods in agreement. It says simply - didn’t I tell you?

“So, you up for it?” I can see stars in her eyes, I bet she thought she’d 
have to argue long and hard, followed by a brief mallet intervention to get 
a romance flick.

“Yeah!”

“I wasn’t only asking you, I know you are. What about you guys?” Ignoring 
her affronted look, I look to the Pokemon for approval.
(“Romeo and Juliet? As long as there’s a bit of passion to keep me amused!”) 
Totodile approves with a grin.

(“Yeah, up for that.”) Pikachu is a little less enthusiastic, but clearly 
wants to see what will happen tonight.

(“Watching the TV always makes me sleepy, so at least I might get sweet 
dreams…”) Cyndaquil gives his affirmation. Finally, I look to Chikorita, but 
don’t even need her to speak.

(“If it’s anything like that sonnet, and it’s romantic, pass me the popcorn 
and some tissues…..”) I’m satisfied, it’s time to get this show on the road.

“Done ignoring me?” Misty has fire in her eye after what she perceived to be 
a blow-off comment, but it’s instantly quenched as I slip her an apologetic 
look.

“Sorry, sorry. I needed to check it with them too, they’ll be watching it as 
well. But I’ve got to get going, so the pizzas to order are ten inch 
Pepperoni deep pan, single person crispy with cheese and extra tomato, 
single person herb-base with cheese, onion and chive, single-person deep pan 
with anchovies and single person thin and crispy with chillies and peppers. 
And whatever you’re up for.” She mentally processes the orders, working out 
whose is whose, before nodding.

“Do you fancy maybe putting pineapple on with Pepperoni and sharing a big 
one?” She gives me a pleading look, the sort of look which could break into 
Fort Knox, let alone me.

“Yeah, go for it. Use the phone in the lobby in ten minutes, then get the 
video player off Joy. I know where the video shop is, but I have to get a 
few other little things. Tobasco sauce, Ketchup, mixed herbs, tartar 
sauce….and maybe a few treats of our own.” I also want the chance to ring 
mum, and see how she is, but I’m not going to mention that, it could dampen 
the mood.

“Okay, will do. I’ll get everything ready.” She settles down, Chikorita 
climbing into her lap, and flicks the television on. Cyndaquil puts out his 
flame and rolls onto his back, probably going to have a nap. Totodile heads 
for the bathroom, shower time. And Pikachu…..Pikachu is en-route to my 
shoulder. I let her hop up and give Misty a quick wave before walking out of 
the door. It’s only early evening, but I somehow know tonight will be well 
worth the money.




I carry the heavy bag back up the hall to the room, and knock quietly. A 
breath from inside, the slithering rustle of someone walking, and then the 
door creaks open, followed by my mouth almost as widely.

“Well, are you going to stand out there all night?” Misty turns around and 
well….slinks back into the room. She really shouldn’t have let her hair down 
completely, it’s not going to help my mental ability any tonight. That 
combined with a smooth, shimmery and rather pleasingly figure-hugging 
sapphire gown and a smile would make Brock live in a monastery for life in 
return for one night. Whoo boy, when she said she was going to get 
everything ready, I didn’t know it would include her. I silently trail her 
into the room, trying to block out the giggling of everyone who noticed my 
Brock impression. It’s at times like this I wish there could be a fine on 
giggling, or even that god had never invented the giggle gland. I wonder if 
there was an operation which can remove it from people with an overactive 
one?

“I got one movie…Ketchup for Pikachu, Tobasco sauce for you, Cyndaquil, some 
mixed herbs for your pizza Chikorita, and tartar sauce to go with your 
anchovies Totodile, and some assorted Pokesnacks. Oh, and for us, some 
high-sugar soft drinks, and….” With a flourish like a magician producing the 
final rabbit from the hat, I pull out the rest of the contents. “….a two 
pint tub of Belgian chocolate ice cream, sweet popcorn, and praline 
chocolates…” Her eyes swell to the size of  saucers.

“You know, you are going to be responsible for me being violently sick 
sometime tonight.” She grins, grabbing the ice cream with both hands. Let’s 
just say I know her well enough to get what she wants.
“Well, make sure you leave enough food to give me the chance too, okay? I 
could really do with some ice cream tonight.”

“Well, get us some spoons, and on the way back, turn off the lights. I like 
a little atmosphere when it comes to watching a good film.” I hop off the 
bed, moving to the kitchenette in one corner, while Chikorita extends a vine 
to flick off the lights. As I settle down onto the middle bed and the room 
goes dark, I feel something warm snuggle against my arm, and look into a 
pair of Aqua eyes alight in the darkness.

“I’ll give you fair warning, films like this make me cry.” She snuggles in 
tighter, and I can almost feel her loose hair brush my nose. For some 
reason, this time, I don’t shy away, despite the fact she’s resting her head 
against my chest which is still in it’s changed form. Right now I couldn’t 
care less. I momentarily wonder whether to tell her that since my fifteenth 
birthday any film with so much as a semblance of sadness makes me dissolve 
like The Wicked Witch of the West in a downpour, but decide not to. She’ll 
know soon enough. I sense the others settle near to us, and as the screen 
turns dark I let myself fall into the moment….




It’s one of those times where I only remember everything in black and white, 
the last few hours. The pizzas arrived whilst the trailers still rolled by, 
and we ate them in almost total silence, the only time there was a voice was 
when Misty and I reached for the last slice of pizza simultaneously. I let 
my eyes travel up her slender arm and smooth face to those eyes, eyes of 
aqua. The only things that remained in any shade of colour in my 
recollections.

“Go on, you have it. It’s yours.”

“Thank you, Ash.” She sank back down, head in the crook of my arm, and 
continued watching. And I? I watched her. Just for a moment, her hair 
washing over me, the way she sighed quietly as she finished eating and sank 
back into the film, and after a moment I followed suit. The unrestrained 
fight of the first scene threw my memory back, back to the Masters final.




*It was the rule in the Masters finals that only the trainer and the Pokemon 
fighting that could determine when they were unable to battle, as a mark of 
a true master is to know when you are beaten.  I knew that Ayla would not 
recall her Pokemon until they ceased to respond to her commands. And the 
Pokemon themselves knew no better, being used like a slave eventually 
produces a slave mentality. I had to do it, had to forfeit Chikorita if it 
meant that her Wartortle could be seen to. As it was still conscious it 
would have kept on trying to get up until it did too much damage, and might 
have died. I was developing the strong link I have now with Pokemon then, 
and could almost feel the pain nagging at the back of my brain. So, I was 
left with Pikachu at my side, and she gave me a sly grin. I then realised 
why, her last Pokemon was -

“Vileplume!” No wonder she’s smiling, I’ve recalled my grass type, and now 
it’s electric against grass in her favour. But, I look down at Pikachu as 
she looks up, and I can see she’s going to do it. I’ve always believed who 
you are matters more than what you are, and Pikachu is not only a great 
fighter, but she never, ever gives up.

“Go get ‘em!” She hops down and pretends to wait for my command, while 
slowly pacing towards her opponent. I can see Ayla waiting for the command 
too, but they don’t know something. Pikachu and I, we share a special bond. 
A bond born through many years of constant companionship and furthered by 
what I know now to be part of being the Phoenix child. We can sometimes talk 
together without words…..

“Viiiille!” Vileplume is cartwheeling over backwards. Ayla trains strong, 
very strong Pokemon, but when something unexpected happens her almost 
military training style leaves little flexibility. And it’s clear by her 
silence she’s stunned. By the time she gets round to opening her mouth 
Pikachu has landed two more quick attacks, a tackle with a flash and a 
thunder wave in the space of two seconds. The yellow blur returns to the 
centre of the arena, smiling at my mental complements, while Aylas Vileplume 
is a dark, twitching heap near the foot of her podium.

“Come on, get up!” It tries, and eventually does, but clearly it has no idea 
what is going on. Another thing Ayla didn’t see is that Vileplume are very 
much at home in the dark, so Pikachus flash being extremely strong has 
temporarily blinded it, it probably won’t be able to see for quite a while.

“Ayla, can’t you see it’s hopeless?” I call, but the way she glowers back 
makes it clear she sees this as a challenge. But again, she didn’t see this 
happening. She thought she could use her careful plans and brute force like 
with all the other trainers, but I’m not like the other trainers.

“Right, try a body slam!” It morefalls over it's own feet than perform a 
body slam, but it’s twenty-five feet from Pikachu and facing the wrong way. 
Right now, if I hadn’t given in, I would have told it to follow my voice and 
turn to Six O’clock, but she is stumped. I try reasoning again.

“Come on Ayla, give it up!”

“Never!” She screams, nails digging into her palms. I sigh, and sent Pikachu 
a mental order to use a thunderbolt. She complies, and Vileplume squeals 
with pain. I wait for Aylas command - nothing. Aonther sigh, and a request 
to use thunder. She complies, blowing the hapless Vileplume ten yards to the 
right. I try yet again to reason with Ayla.

“I can’t knock it out with electricity attacks, but it can’t fight back. Why 
can’t you see it can’t battle?” The crowd is hushed as a congregation in 
contemplation, waiting for the answer. When it comes, it’s delivered with 
the fury of a hurricane.

“Why should I? You said yourself you can’t knock him out! What does it 
matter to me that he’s got to endure all this pain? He’s just a means to an 
end! I want to prove to the world, prove I’m the best, that I’m the 
greatest!” I scour her facial features for a flicker of remorse, a hint of 
uncertainty, a trace of regret. But no, all it contains is this fervour. “So 
get up, get up!” The Vileplume gets slowly to its feet, nearly tripping over 
them again, before being sent tumbling by another thunderbolt, this time not 
by my wishes. Pikachu is getting impatient, so I give her a warning to cool 
it.

“You do realise that, although Pikachu cannot knock him unconscious, 
eventually he could die from burns…..don’t you?” I can see, see she can. But 
the knowledge means nothing to her, as she gives her Pokemon another verbal 
lashing to get up. It’s then I know that what I have to do is save her 
Pokemon myself. Sure, I’ll won’t be a champion, but at least her Vileplume 
might have a future….I can hear Misty gasp from her seat behind me, where 
she’d sat through the whole tournament as I pull my cap off, allowing my 
unkempt raven hair to flow down my neck, and regard it critically for the 
briefest second, before gently tossing it into the ring. “Come on Pikachu, 
if she wants it so much, let her have it.” My ambition screamed at me as the 
muted crowd grew slowly louder, a dangerous rumbling brewing, but was 
silenced by reality. The crown of champion isn’t worth a life, be it human 
or Pokemon. I can feel Pikachu's confusion, sense Mistys eyes on the back of 
my neck, imagine the looks on Chikorita's, Brock's, Mum's, Gary's faces. But 
I’ve made my decision.

(“Why, you had it sewn up?”) Chikorita sounds choked.

“I can’t believe you just gave in the title, what are you doing?” Misty 
whispers from behind me, but I ignore them. I even ignore Pikachus imploring 
look as she climbs back into the booth. Eventually, I simply answer:

“Because life is more important than winning…..”*




The film was absorbing as anything I’ve seen before. I had no idea how Ash 
came to be into something like this, or how he knows Shakespeare in the 
first place. It’s clear though that he was probably enjoying this even more 
than me. He was unconsciously stroking my hair, and I’m wasn’t about to 
argue with that either. It was the scene when Tybalt kills Mercutio when my 
mouth opened unbidden, and I found myself talking of how I lost my father.

“You know, if dad was still here he’d have been forty-four in a week. I wish 
he was still with me…..” Ash had silently reached out and grasped my hand, 
sensing that I needed him to be there, but not interrupt. “.….He was 
wonderful, especially since mum died. David was his name, but I just called 
him Dai. It was easier for me when I was younger, before I could handle 
David, and it stuck. He came through the death of his wife and still looked 
after four boisterous girls. But then that day came, he went out one day and 
never came back…..they said it was an accident, but I’d just love to see 
whoever was driving that car that day and show them what it did to me - ” I 
felt a tear slide down my face, but I let it. I felt Ash nuzzle into my 
hair, giving me a silent nudge to continue. “ - He was a great man, and a 
wonderful friend, always ready to joke but you could talk to him about 
anything you wanted and he’d listen. I was wondering just a day before what 
would happen if I lost him, and thought I’d be like a ship without an 
anchor. I was right. I went off the rails, nearly lost it altogether. My 
sisters couldn’t deal with their loss, so they pecked at each other, and 
most of all me. I was on my last legs when I met you, and without you I 
would’ve ended up in that lake without a hook to hang on to.….” My tears 
were flowing freely when I felt a gentle hand brush them away, and draw me 
closer, so close I could almost hear his heart beating. Eventually he spoke 
in a tender, beguiling voice, a tone I’d never heard him use before.

“Don’t you worry Mist. I’m not going anywhere without you for a long time.” 
I felt his lips embrace my cheek at the same another solitary tear glided 
down, the two colliding. But where the two sensations had mingled only one 
then remained, that of him. Romeo, crying to the heavens on the screen, 
suddenly became insignificant as a dusk shadow. All that mattered was the 
way his brown eyes drew me hypnotically closer, how our lips became one, how 
he held me closer than a mother her baby. For just a few moments, all that 
mattered was…..us.




The rest of the night passed as a wondrous blur, the two of us together. 
Barely another word spoken, barely another move made. But just laying there, 
arms intertwined and lips aflame, silent glances speaking more words of love 
than a Shakespeare sonnet. I vaguely remember the rest of the film, except 
for the last scenes. The lone soliloquies of both Romeo and Juliet, each 
exquisitely touching and desperately mournful, yet infused with hope, hope 
that they could each still join each other in death. I remember how Misty 
and I wept together, how we held each other yet tighter as the tale of 
unrequited love span to a dreadful end with delicacy of finest silk. And I 
can remember foremost of all how two emotions clashed like waves against the 
land within me. The desire to stay with Misty always, with the fear I may 
have lied to her, deceived her by my promise. I am the child of the Phoenix, 
and much as I love her, it seems it cannot prevent this progression. And 
when the fated hour comes, I may have to leave her forever. It was then, 
when I settled back down into the darkness to try and resolve the battle 
when the light snapped on, startling us both and bringing me to the present. 
Pikachu, stood below the light switch, small smile pinching at her mouth. 
Totodile still in his own world, staring at the credits and sighing deeply. 
And Chikorita….lying beside Cyndaquil, both of them looking at us with 
wetness smouldering in their eyes. I then realise how Misty and I look, arms 
wrapped around each other, faces touching, eyes red. But I don’t care, just 
don’t care. She looks up at me, as I look down at her, and from the moment 
our eyes meet, I know I don’t even have to say those three little words, 
what is there is proof enough. But even so, I feel I have to say it.

“I love you, Misty.” She closes those eyes for a moment, just savouring the 
moment, a moment I want to capture in a locket just to relive it for the 
rest of my time.

“I love you too.” She drifts off in my lap, and I smile at the Pokemon 
clustered around me.

(“Getting comfortable?”) Chikorita cheekily asks.

“Yeah, it’s taken six and a half years, so god knows it’s time.”

(“Mind if I light up Ash? I need to get rid of a little excess flame.”) 
Cyndaquil asks, still nestled against her.

(“Why? Does it give you heartburn?”) Totodile chuckles from the end of the 
bed.

(“Ha ha. Yes, as it happens.”) Cyndaquil considerately moves away from 
Chikorita before settling near my feet.

“Go on, just remember this is a non-smoking room.” He rolls his eyes at the 
awful pun before lighting the flames on his back. As soon as they flare into 
life I feel my concentration focus into them, into the very core. The world 
fades from focus, and a vision fills my mind. Fire, a familiar building on 
fire. Flames towering high. Three girls, three sisters screaming on the 
street outside, two holding the third back from rushing into the building. 
My vision sweeps away from them to see the fire brigade, my old friend 
Squirtle leading the battle and saving the lives of many Pokemon. A Dewgong, 
a Goldeen…..The vision leaves him and delves deep, deep, into choking smoke. 
There is but one, one is trapped inside. I can feel its fear, hear its 
cries. Somehow, I reach it through the dancing red flames and cloying brown 
smoke, and I move into its young mind and calm it, no her. She’s trapped by 
burning eaves, and can’t break free. I feel the squeezing of anguish as I 
realise that my spirit alone cannot help her, free her from this burning 
mass. But, I do what I can, I hold back my sadness and coax her, gently ease 
her tormented mind to remember images of joy and wonder, so when her 
youthful eyes close for the last time, as the smoke overwhelms her, they are 
eyes at peace….




(“Ash!”) I feel several hands pull me up, and I throw myself into the open 
arms of Misty, who cradles me through my sudden sobbing.

“What happened, what scared you?” She coos slowly, as I regain some control. 
I can still feel echoes from that mind, the knowledge that death was coming, 
and the pure fear as bright as the white-hot core of the blaze. Eventually, 
I can just control my voice long enough to speak a few words.

“A vision….a fire, I felt it….Cerulean gym has been burnt to the ground….”





Well, tat's all, hope you enjoyed it!
Don't forget to R&R

Dan.