Love and War

By Spruceton Spook

Part 4

The scene became quiet again, the tranquility of the forest setting absorbing into Ash and Misty as they sat in the shade, their eyes wandering about them daintily. Warm, humid breezes blew through the leaves, birds chirped lively in the branches above their heads, and the ground was soft and comfortable. The two opponents sat cross-legged beside each other, breathing serenely and slacking as they looked around, occasionally glancing at each other for a moment. Each and every time this happened, huge, zany smiles swept to their faces, followed by short chuckles. It was way too weird for either of them to grasp.

“So what’s your team going to say when they find you hanging out with me?” Misty asked humorously, the sun gleaming off her face shield. “Kick you out of Pallet Town?”

Ash’s eyebrows rose in wonder. “Yeah, maybe,” he joked, shrugging. He gave her a sly nod right afterward. “But I’ll find my way back in.”

Misty laughed quietly, lifting her face so that the sun was shining down upon it. Practically the first time she could relax and let her worry lift, she basked in its strong rays, leaning back against a tree trunk with a pleasant moan. Yawning peacefully and stretching, she looked over at Ash, only to receive a sensitively disgraceful look from him. Her eyes darted for a moment.

“What?” she asked, grinning confusingly.

Ash smiled, shaking his head. “What do you mean, what?” he exclaimed, glaring harmlessly. “That’s not how you paintball, sitting back and napping like that! Up, prisoner!”

“I wasn’t napping!” Misty protested with a giggle, righting herself anyway. She grabbed at her gun to make it look like she was still paying attention, and smirked at him. “And stop calling me ‘prisoner.’”

“No,” Ash replied. “Live with it, prisoner.”

Misty snorted, trying to be serious about it, but her smile didn’t help that. She really had no problem with him calling her that, especially as she could see he was obviously getting a kick out of it. Just as long as he didn’t rub it in, though. It still wasn’t that acceptable to her ego, the game being as degrading as it already was.

“You always have to be alert and ready,” Ash explained. “Sitting back like that just kills all the excitement of the game. And you don’t want that!”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Misty apologized, shrinking away bashfully. She chuckled through a wide smile, flashing her pearly white teeth. “It’s just so pretty here in the woods.”

Ash rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh. Pretty woods filled with a bunch of enemies all wanting a piece of dumb, defenseless targets such as you!”

“Dumb!?” Misty gasped, her jaw dropping. “Why you!”

Ash yelped, beginning to laugh as he held up his hands to ward off Misty’s fists, flying friskily at him.

“Hey, hey, I didn’t mean it that way!” he cried. She just guffawed louder, bunching her face determinedly as she tried to get past Ash’s hands to get a good hit on him. Ash lost himself completely in the laughter as her playful punches fell on his arms.

“Mi-misty, cut it out! Come on, stop!” he shouted, his voice peaking and cracking yet again. He quickly clasped a hand over his mouth and cleared his throat, his face reddening slightly.

Letting up on him at that, Misty gave him a shrewd grin. She sighed to catch her breath from the ruckus as Ash’s embarrassed blush faded. He released his mouth, and put a finger to his lips, lowering to a whisper. “We can’t be so loud!”

Misty folded her arms in front of her chest. “Well, don’t call me dumb again.”

“Believe me, I won’t,” Ash replied sheepishly, rubbing his arms up and down and sweatdropping. He straightened himself, adding swiftly, “I’ll just call you ‘prisoner.’”

“Oh, yay,” she said sardonically, shaking her head.

Ash beamed sinisterly, his body getting all jumpy from the amusement. He breathed to calm his beating heart, watching Misty wrinkle her nose at him. His nerves were almost too high-strung, a completely rapid change of pace from what they had been not a half an hour ago. Finally, things were starting to go the way he’d expected.

Gradually, his frivolous manner still radiant, he turned his head, scanning his eyes over the bushes and out into the open. It was the first time he became observant since the rowdiness, and in an instant, he was almost frightened that it had been a senseless mistake to make. He braced, his perception picking up movement about a hundred feet away, a mere rustling of bushes. His smile faded at once, a sharp, serious stare replacing it. His mouth agape, his head froze in the direction of the activity, attentive.

Misty caught this immediately, and she paled slightly. “What is it?” she asked nervously, jumping to her knees to catch a glimpse of what had stolen Ash’s attention.

“There,” Ash whispered, gesturing to where his eyes were fixated with just a quick nod of his head. He didn’t move otherwise. “I think I see someone.”

Misty’s heart took an excited leap, and her eyes roamed as she tried to find what Ash was seeing. Silence penetrated and Misty engrossed herself into it, concentrating and waiting for the sound of the movement to prick her ears. However, she didn’t get much of a chance to focus and become conscious, as Ash quickly placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her down to the ground.

She turned to him, seeing that his smile had returned. He was notably delighted, shivering with excitement. Pursing her lips, she cocked her head.

“Is there someone there?” she asked.

His smile spreading from ear to ear, Ash nodded energetically. “Yup! Someone from my team. Here’s your chance!”

“Ch-chance?” Misty gulped, nervousness zapping through her.

“Yeah!” Ash replied. “C’mon, you’re gonna get him!”

“Get him?” Misty echoed, her voice squeaky. “But I –”

Ash abruptly pulled her up, but only enough that her head barely popped out from above the bushes. Grasping onto her baggy shirt, and brought his head over to hers so that their helmets clinked together.

“See him?” he asked, his voice low and delicate. “All the way over there.”

Misty squinted and gazed out into the woods. She looked around for a second, and seeing nothing, she opened her mouth to ask him where. Just before the word slipped through her lips, however, her eyes met up with the player, his camouflage out of place amid the slightly lighter shrubbery he was hiding poorly behind.

“Yea – yeah . . .”

“Okay, ya ready for this, then?” Ash asked, giving her a nudge. “Now, just hold onto your gun, find him in your viewfinder, and shoot. You can do it!”

Misty’s lips quivered apprehensively. “But . . . but that’s someone from your team, Ash! Why do you want me to shoot at him?”

Ash scowled softly and waved it away. “Don’t worry,” he assured her, “it won’t hurt the team at all. That’s what you’re here for, anyway!”

“Yeah, but I . . .” Misty trailed off, swallowing uneasily. She began to shake, feeling overwhelmed from both Ash’s encouragement for her to shoot and the chance that she herself was in danger. Then of course was the feeling deep in her gut, the feeling that told her it wasn’t right. Something about the “enemy” telling her to take out one of his own players just didn’t fit. But even as the thoughts swarmed her mind, they were totally extinguished as Ash prompted her more and more.

“Look, it’s okay, Misty!” Ash laughed gently, giving her a shake.

“But it’s not for you!” she objected, holding the paintball gun to her chest. “I’m just hurting you by doing this!”

Ash sighed, giving her a promising smile. “Misty . . . it’s no big deal. I told you I was going to help you, so how else would I do that? Listen to me, I don’t care. I wanna see you bag a victim and have fun with this! That’s all.”

Misty opened her mouth the reply, but Ash continued.

“Besides, I don’t even know who that is, so it doesn’t matter to me!” he giggled.

Shrinking her shoulders, Misty shut her mouth and looked down at her gun. Carefully, she hoisted it alongside herself, slipping her finger into the trigger hole and propping up the end of it. As she pointed it towards the direction of where the opponent hid, she threw Ash another questionable glance, her eyes restless.

“Are you sure?”

“Sure I’m sure!” Ash nodded. “Go ahead, go for it!”

Cringing nervously, Misty took a huge breath, and turned back to the opponent. Luckily, it appeared that he hadn’t noticed them, but that didn’t mean anything. He could very well know they were there, and Misty trembled. She wondered if he would make a move unexpectedly, right before she would.

The negative thoughts didn’t help her concentration at all. Mixed with her shaking, Ash watched as the gun wavered in her grip. Right away, his eyes fell worriedly, knowing that the shot wouldn’t do much. Misty would be incredibly lucky to pull off such a feat, and his prediction was nothing short of correct. Her finger trembling erratically, she pulled the trigger and the gun fired, the paintball sailing far from where it was intended to.

Misty yelped as the gun went off in her hands, still not used to its abrupt method. Ash panicked immediately, knowing the shot had missed, and wondered how suddenly a retaliation would occur. Terrified for Misty, he quickly grabbed the clearly disoriented girl and pulled her to safety behind the bushes.

“Get down and stay down for a moment,” he instructed her, his voice tense. “He might shoot!”

“Oh man, I didn’t get him, did I?” Misty asked sadly.

Ash didn’t reply, but Misty knew the answer. Slumping at the disappointing but not surprising news, she groaned. Ash didn’t console her at the moment, instantly bounding to his knees again to inspect what was happening. To his shock, there the opponent was, up and exposed. His heart pounded in his chest, but instead of shooting back or charging at them in ambush, the boy turned and dashed away, hurdling over low bushes and stumps and weaving between trees.

Seeing the prime opportunity, Ash yanked Misty up forcefully. She rapidly looked yonder and saw her opponent fleeing along with him.

“Quick,” he told her, his tone anxious, “there he is! Shoot again, shoot again!”

Misty startled considerably. “Wha-what? Shoot again!?” she exclaimed.

“Yeah! You still might get him!”

Misty’s eyes were glued to the retreating boy, blinking madly from the unwanted excitement. “But Ash, I don’t wanna –”

It was too late anyway. After putting another two or three hundred yards between them, the boy dove for cover behind a tree, disappearing from sight.

Coward, Ash thought. Running away from Misty, too. Geez. He chuckled to himself.

They stood there quietly, both watching in the distance and waiting. Each surrounding sound became clear and acute, and their mouths hung open in anticipation and suspense. Misty, gripping her gun so tightly her hands sweat, prayed that nothing would happen, that the boy would run farther and farther away. This is exactly the kind of nerve-wracking action she wanted to avoid. She knew she would miss, she knew she would put herself at risk. She felt lucky that the opponent hadn’t fired back, considering it a miracle.

Ash sighed noisily, glancing at Misty. “So much for that,” he said.

“I hated that,” Misty mumbled in response, her blue eyes blazing.

Ash chortled softly. “Oh come on, that was fun. Admit it.”

“No, that wasn’t fun!” she begged to differ. She looked disgustingly at the paintball gun. “I hate this thing. And I hate this game! I was destined to suck at it.”

Ash gave her a tender, easy look. “Oh, you are not. You’re just too nervous when you shoot. Your arms are all over the place and you’re shaking like crazy!” he said, gesticulating wildly. “Your paintballs practically do loops in the air when you shoot them!”

Misty couldn’t hold back her laugh as he said this. Seeing her bad mood lift, Ash smiled as well, pleased.

“I’m just wasting the paintballs, though,” Misty lamented, her giggles suddenly dwindling. “I just . . . I dunno, I’m just completely lost in this game, a waste to my team altogether! I have no idea what I’m doing, and even when I do, I’m too damn fidgety to even concentrate!” She looked down despondently, shutting her eyes.

“I just . . . I just hate it.”

Ash fell silent as she whined her despair, tilting his head compassionately. He drew back slightly as she lifted her head, staring at him with rigid confusion.

“And I don’t why you’re hanging out with me, or even trying to help me!” she cried. “You’re just wasting your time, Ash. Wasting your time and jeopardizing yourself.”

“Jeopardizing myself?” Ash exclaimed incredulously, a laugh escaping him. “Oh please, Misty, nobody’ll care that I hung out with you!”

“Well, apparently they will, according to Gary!” Misty argued firmly.

Ash sagged, shaking his head. “No they won’t. And even if they do, I surely don’t care one way or another. It’s just a stupid game, Misty.”

“Yeah, well . . . still!” Misty huffed. “I seriously think you should do everyone a favor and shoot me out, which is what you should have done in the first place instead of making me your dumb prisoner! You’re just doing this because you feel bad for me, and I don’t want that, Ash! It’s stupid!”

Ash just stared at her placidly. She stared back, then looked away, not knowing what to make of Ash’s reaction. Either he was taking in her words thoughtfully and considering them, or he was waiting for her to cool down. With all honesty, she hoped it was the latter. She didn’t want to be shot out at all, and certainly not by Ash. Nor . . . nor did she want him to leave her.

She didn’t even know why she was saying what she was saying.

Misty glanced back at Ash warily, almost fearing to see what his expression was. She startled as she was met by a smile, an almost suspicious one at that. Although her body loosened in relief, she was still utterly confused.

“What?” she asked inaudibly.

Ash shook his head, beckoning her to follow as he got onto his hands and knees and began to crawl. Misty, looking baffled, did so.

“Where are we going?” she said gingerly, feeling rather embarrassed suddenly from her outbursts and the fact that Ash had simply ignored them.

“Gotta move to a new place,” Ash replied, his voice perky and happy. “You should always move after you shoot.”

“Oh,” she replied, giving him a weird look.

That was all he was going to say after her whine? It was hard for her to believe, as she wouldn’t have been surprised if he had left her then and there. He wasn’t the patient type, and hardly had he ever tolerated her complaining for as much as he was now. No, he was being too cool, too strange . . .

There had to be something else.

Misty was itching to discover what that something else was, but she was hesitant. It would involve more talking, more insistence. She already felt dumb fussing so much, and it obviously wasn’t swaying Ash. She was glad, though. It was true she was having no fun paintballing, but she had to admit she was enjoying it more with his company.

Maybe if you shut your mouth and let him help you, you might have fun, she convinced herself as she followed him through the low plants and grasses. Enjoy yourself!

Well, she would try. The last attempt at paintballing was certainly not a successful one, but Misty thought it would be best to put it to the back of her mind. She felt better already as she and Ash settled in a different area. Though not far from where they had been, it was still a change of scenery, and Misty found she liked it better.

Ash’s face had not changed much from when she last looked at him. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but he was still visibly content. Apparently, her words had gone in one ear and out the other, and she couldn’t be more pleased. Still, she couldn’t rid the sinking, nervous feeling that returned as Ash boosted her paintball gun from the drooping position she had been holding it in.

“Are you ready to try again?” he asked her encouragingly.

Did you hear a word I said? she told him in her mind. But outside, she glanced away apprehensively. “I don’t know . . .”

Ash sighed wearily. “No, you do know. You are ready.”

Misty was ready to truthfully object, but she declined. “Whatever you say,” she shrugged, putting on a grin.

Ash nodded satisfyingly, then surveyed the area. “I feel good about it this time, Misty. I know you’re gonna shoot out the next person we find.”

Don’t bet your life on that, Misty smirked in her mind. At least she was delighting in Ash’s silly predictions. The moment wasn’t a complete loss.

“And why do you think that?” she replied, arching her eyebrows.

“I just know it,” he said, not turning to her. He was too busy scanning about.

Misty accepted it, though she still didn’t understand his reasoning behind it. No big deal, though . . . he could think and predict all he wanted; there was no way she was going to shoot someone today.

“So we’re just gonna sit here for another hour waiting for someone to come by?” she asked, dragging her voice a bit impatiently. The new stakeout having less shade then the last, she started to fan herself with her hand as the heat intensified.

“Maybe,” Ash answered. “Maybe not.”

Grumbling, Misty sat back. “I’m getting bored sitting around. I want to move and walk around.”

“And create a convenient moving target!” Ash put in, snickering. He gave her a gentle, derisive smile. “Okay, Misty. You go do that.”

“Well, this is dull!” she griped, feeling it oh-so-easy to do. She lowered her head and closed her eyes. “We’re gonna be sitting here forever.”

A brief silence passed. “Ummm . . . maybe not.”

Misty’s eyes shot open, and she jumped up to look at Ash. Sure enough, that smile had returned, the one with a splash of excitement and restiveness.

“Oh great,” she cringed, paling and sweatdropping.

Ash waved away her attitude passively. He grinned insanely, his eyes never leaving the individual he had spotted. The person was walking quietly through the woods, obviously unaware that he was being watched or that his enemies were even in the vicinity. Correction, enemy. Ash had to keep reminding himself of that.

Though he had feared that they would sit there for some time as Misty had been moaning, he was still optimistic that someone would pop up somewhere. The move had done its charm, and now with a little bit of tedious focusing, Ash was convinced that this had to be someone from his team. Strenuously, he began to swat Misty’s shoulder, urging her to get up.

Rolling her eyes, Misty haggardly complied. Might as well get this over with, she thought, being sure to swat him back first before anything else was done.

Ash was ecstatic, more than excited that Misty was going to have another chance. He was convinced that it would be different this time, and he was going to make sure of it. He squinted vigorously to try to identify the opponent, whose side profile was facing him at the moment. Every so often, he would walk into shade, decreasing the sun glare on his eye shield and revealing more detail on his face. He was not far away at all, and was moving ever so slowly.

“Come on, Misty!” he whispered giddily, restlessly hopping in place. Misty watched him with an amused grin, amazed at his enthusiasm as well as bewildered by it. Why was he so enthusiastic about helping her?

He’s wasting his time, she could only conclude. Either that, or he’s just out to laugh at my expense . . .

Nevertheless, she continued to smile apathetically and wait for his command, as useless as it would be. She looked out and saw her opponent, shocked that he was so out in the open as compared to the last one. Following the boy for a moment, she turned back to Ash to see what sort of crazed, ravished expression had molded itself onto his face.

However, that was far from what she saw. Ash’s elated face had out of the blue fallen, inducing Misty’s to do the same. She opened her mouth to ask what was the matter, but it just hung agape as his facial expression changed again. His eyes narrowed, a frown overshadowed his once-jovial smile, and he looked positively blown out of the water. In an appalled sort of way, to add.

“A-ash?” Misty squeaked, befuddled. “What’s wrong?”

Ash couldn’t believe it. His lips parting from their grave scowl, he growled. “It’s him.”

“Him? Him who?”

“Him. I can’t believe it . . .”

Confounded, Misty could only gawk at him. “W-who, Gary?” she asked, him being the first person to come to mind considering Ash’s sudden hostility. Surely no one else would fit the reaction . . .

But yet, Ash shook his head, his face bunching up even more irately. Breathing uneasily, he crouched lower behind the bush, his eyes still blazing in the direction of him – whoever that was. Her face desperately imploring for clarification, Misty continued to stare at Ash as he came down beside her.

“Ash, who is it?” she asked frantically. Ash’s face was nearly frightening her.

Swallowing heavily, he turned to her. “Tyler,” he answered repulsively.

Misty’s brow furrowed. “Who’s Tyler?”

Ash paused for a moment, as he tried to collect himself. Misty wanted him to explain to her who Tyler was? How could he even begin? Feeling miserable simply recalling his name and appearance in his mind, Ash wondered how he could possibly achieve this without blowing a fuse.

“Tyler was a kid I knew in elementary school,” Ash said, his tone venomously antagonistic. “Well, not just knew – I was friends with him.”

Sensing hanging in his voice, Misty asked, “But?”

Ash glanced at her, biting down hard on his lip. He sent another harrowing glare in Tyler’s direction, making sure that he had not left his sight. He hadn’t . . . though a little bit of him wished he had.

“But that wasn’t for long. Not after . . . not after what he did.”

“What did he do?”

He took a deep breath. “Well, it was a long time ago. I mean, a real long time ago – third grade to be exact.”

“What happened?” Misty asked weakly. His strong bitterness was stirring her curiosity intensely, and she looked at him with deep concern.

“We used to be really good friends,” Ash explained. “I mean, we did a lot together, we both were interested in Pokémon. He was over my house a lot. We used to have so much fun, but then . . . suddenly, I . . . I don’t know what happened, but he started ignoring me and he wouldn’t talk to me. I didn’t do anything, so of course I was really confused and stupidly kept trying to find out what was wrong with him and talk to him, but . . . he must really have not wanted me to hang out with him anymore.”

Misty’s face fell. “Oh, that’s too bad.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not all,” Ash said sourly. As he saw Tyler moving further away, he hastily continued. “Not only did he stop hanging out with me, but he started hanging out with this other group of kids, who just . . . starting teasing me all of sudden, never leaving me alone. They made fun of everything about me: my clothes, my schoolbag, everything I practically did. And I mean, I was just a seven-year-old, eight-year-old kid . . . that stuff hurts.”

His voice began to waver, clear that although this happened quite a long time ago, it was still tormenting to Ash.

“I know,” Misty nodded sympathetically, her tone low.

“I knew he was the ringleader of the whole thing,” Ash said, shaking his head. “Those kids had never bothered me until Tyler starting hanging out with them. To this day . . . to this day I have no idea what I did to him, but I was never friendly with him again. Worthless jerk . . .”

He turned back to where Tyler was prowling around, looking attentive and cautious. Just seeing him again made irate shivers run through him, his eyes shooting daggers. His fists tightened, and he looked back at Misty again, his face stone cold with seriousness.

“You have to do this for me, Misty,” he told her determinedly, surprising the girl. She drew back. “You have to shoot Tyler out for me.”

Unbeknownst to Ash, Misty had her own incensed chills as Ash told his story. She hadn’t had much luck with popularity in school as well, and hearing an account of anyone – especially Ash – teased in school, she became compassionate. And considering the cause of this unhappiness was just a hundred yards away, she was shocked as her urge to shoot at the opponent was strengthening.

Still, she was taken by Ash’s sudden desire. His brown eyes glowed of steady, angry resolve.

“Please, Misty,” he said again. “I would like none other than to see him go down. Will you try as hard as you can for me? Please?”

She couldn’t say no, she couldn’t resist. How could she? Misty knew this was no time to complain or whine. Ash was dead serious; this guy had apparently taken a toll on him. Whether it had been years ago or not, it wasn’t important. After pausing gawk-eyed at him for a moment, Misty finally straightened, her lips pulling into a bold smile.

“I’ll try,” she told him earnestly. She couldn’t promise anything to him, as she knew that as much as Ash’s story burned her up, it wasn’t going to make her a superb shot. She regrettably believed her paintball would be blasting past the infamous Tyler useless. But for Ash’s sake . . . she wished with all her heart that it would end differently. It had to now.

“Thanks,” Ash said whole-heartedly. Finally, a smile returned to his face, but this one wasn’t happy or excited . . . it was full of pure cunning and even a hint of evilness. Misty had to smile, also. This was getting interesting.

Yet, she knew she was no match against her nerves as the time to shoot came too rapidly. Ash was brushing up alongside her as she knelt behind the bush, her gun shaking in her hands and pointed towards the still-wandering Tyler.

It’s gonna be a miracle if I get him, Misty lamented to herself. However, she did all she could to try to calm herself as she peered down the long barrel of her paintball gun and through the target at the end. Tyler’s image jumped around in the viewfinder, never settling.

“You don’t have much luck with old friends, do ya, Ash?” Misty mused, hoping that maybe conversing would ease her trembling limbs.

“Not really,” Ash replied, chuckling quietly. He watched her as she tried to focus, but time was a-wasting, and Tyler was moving away from them every moment. Misty’s nervousness was not gone, and it didn’t take a firm observer to notice that. She was shivering fiercely, almost as if they were playing in ten-degree weather rather than the ninety they really were in.

“Calm down, Misty,” he whispered into her ear.

“I can’t,” she admitted just as low, desperately trying to steady her arms. “I know I’m gonna miss . . .”

“No, you won’t,” he replied, but his words were no use. Misty nodded, but as much as she tried, she couldn’t settle down. Ash’s eyes darted from his pressured friend to Tyler, and his muscles clenched.

“Listen,” he told her, “just hold the gun steady, look through the target, and make sure the little red dot is on the bastard.”

“ASH!” Misty scolded, shaking her head and smiling.

“Fine, make sure it’s on Tyler,” he replied begrudgingly, adding on quickly under his breath, “The bastard.”

Misty rolled her eyes, and returned her attention to the game. Though she was still smiling, it was slowly fading in apprehension. Tyler was now further away, and she became shakier. Closing her eyes for a moment, she replayed Ash’s recent advice in her mind, and opened them again, looking down the barrel in search for the red dot. She didn’t recall there being one the last time she had shot, and sure enough, there was not one there now.

Her face wrinkled in confusion. “What red dot?” she asked.

“The red dot in the target,” Ash clarified. “It’s right in the center of the target. Can’t you see it?”

Misty looked harder, but she didn’t see the use in it since it was obvious there was no red dot in the center.

“Umm, no,” she answered, taking her face away from the gun to give Ash a strange look. “What are you talking about? There’s no red dot in my target!”

Ash sighed exasperatedly. Not only was Misty stubborn about trying, but now she wasn’t even willing to accept the gun’s useful accessories. Swiftly but carefully, he took the gun from Misty’s hands, groaning.

“Misty, it’s there. I don’t know what you’re doing,” he said wearily, looking through the target himself. To his shock, there was no red light at the center of the target like there was in his gun. Being part of the radar system, it was simply an electrified aid to help in aiming better, and alas, there was none in Misty’s gun.

“Hmmm,” he commented, his voice dragging. “There’s no red dot.”

“Told ya,” Misty replied. She folded her arms, insulted.

Ash lowered the gun and gave her a pained face. “Your gun’s probably not turned on, then,” he said, flipping it over to check it out. The gun was on, but this made him more annoyed than confused.

“No wonder there’s no red dot,” he said. “Someone must have left the gun on and the batteries ran out.”

Misty shook her head. “That’s right, give the terrible novice the defective gun.”

This certainly vexed Ash, who wished at that moment he could give Misty his gun. But that wasn’t going to do much, and by the time they switched paintballs Tyler would be gone for sure.

“Well, now we know why you’ve been missing,” he said to Misty, handing her the gun again quickly. “Can’t believe they would give you a gun with no radar. But don’t worry . . . you can do without it.”

“I can?” Misty asked hesitantly.

“Sure,” Ash nodded. “You’re a smart girl, Misty. Just image there’s a red dot right smack in the center, and put it right on Tyler’s back-stabbing carcass.”

Misty smiled humbly, both from Ash’s crude speech and the remark of her being smart. She paused, grasping her hands around the gun tightly, and took a deep breath. She had to do this, she was convinced now. She couldn’t let him down.

But damn that nervousness. She shook again, but had a clear shot of Tyler in her viewfinder. He had surprisingly wandered closer, and it was certain that her paintball would reach him. That was, if she could keep her gun stable.

Come on, Misty! she growled to herself. Hold the gun! Do this right!

She couldn’t, however. Growing angry, she realized there was no use. Her arms had a mind of their own, and they did not want to cooperate with her at all. Crestfallen, dejected tears formed in the corners of her eyes, and she tried to furiously blink them away. She was going to let him down; she wasn’t going to do this. But she . . . she had to . . . There had to be some way . . .

Ash couldn’t take it any longer. Though he didn’t see her tears, there was no mistaking that Misty was upset with her trembling. She was lost in her quest for concentration, a bundle of nerves. Tyler was in her midst; there was no other perfect opportunity. His head twisted back and forth between the two players, his own muscles becoming jumpy and anxious. Misty needed help – desperate help. Not just because he wanted to see Tyler painted in yellow, but because Misty needed to do it. She needed the boost of confidence, the feeling of accomplishment and pride.

And he needed to see it, also.

Taking a deep breath, Ash moved towards Misty. “Here, stop shaking,” he told her, reaching around her body and placing his hands on her arms. He engulfed her in the close embrace, squeezing her arms and bringing the gun to her face.

“Relax, and focus,” he said in a wobbly, apprehensive voice, restraining her arms from their trembling.

A million shivers ran up Misty’s spine as Ash did this, her heart making a tremendous leap in her chest. If he thought this was going to calm her, he had another thing coming. Her body instantaneously tightened, and she could feel her face heating up. The fingers wrapped around the gun numbed suddenly, but yet, her trembling was dying.

“O-o-okay,” she stammered, gulping.

“See Tyler the Jerk in your target? Got him in there?”

Amazingly, Misty was able to concentrate for a second to discover that Tyler was still framed in her target. She clenched her teeth and nodded, feeling Ash’s hands slip over onto hers.

“Okay,” Ash replied, whispering his words right into her ear. “I have your arms. When you think you’re ready, just shoot.”

Misty faltered for a second, breathing heavily to soothe her raging heart. But she knew she couldn’t wait for long, and realizing that she could not have had a better shot, she bit her lip, said a quick prayer, and pulled the trigger.

She did not fly back from the shot as she normally did – Ash was there to prevent that. She fell back into him, but he caught her and bolstered her. They did not hesitate for a second more as they simultaneously popped their heads over the bush, desperate to discover the result.

Misty thought she was going to have a heart attack. Her jaw dropped in utter incredulity, as did Ash’s, as they witnessed Tyler flinch and immediately come to a halt, frozen in shock. He was staring down at his right arm, which was now splattered in yellow, looking positively stunned.

“Huh?” Misty gasped.

“Oh my God . . .” Ash muttered inaudibly, ducking his head cautiously as a huge smile swept to his face. He looked over ecstatically at the speechless, dumbfounded Misty, finding it difficult to contain the victorious whoop that he desperately silenced.

Misty continued to stare on as Tyler lifted his head abruptly, scanning for his opponent. Almost immediately, his head seemed to turn to her direction, and their eyes met in a completely awkward moment. Sheepishly, Misty grinned, giving him a short wave. Tyler just slumped in response, looking undoubtedly disappointed. For a moment, Misty felt bad for him, but nothing was matching the jolt of excitement that cascaded through her. She had shot someone, and she couldn’t believe it! Seeing the teen sagging depressively before her, shot with her paintball, seemed too surreal. And yet, it was true.

Slowly, she lowered back behind the bush as Tyler shrugged, gave her a thumbs-up in sportsmanship, and walked off. Misty was shocked that someone who Ash described as heartless and mean could be so cool about it. But soon that thought was wiped from her mind as Ash grabbed her, spinning her around so that their exuberant smiles faced each other.

“You did it!” he screamed immediately, struggling to keep in a whisper for fear that Tyler still might spot him. “Misty, you shot him, you did it!”

Misty started to laugh, a hand flying to her flushing face. “I can’t believe it!” she managed to say through her shocked laughter. “I really did it!”

Ash’s smile was incomparable. “See, I told you you could do it!” he cried, giving her a friendly shove. “Didn’t I tell ya!?”

Overjoyed, Misty nodded. She closed her eyes as she let the blissful moment sink into her, one she honestly never thought she was going to experience.

“That . . .” she finally said, unable to believe that she was going to admit this, “was a lot of fun.”

Ash’s eyes lit up. “Wasn’t it?” he agreed. He shook his head. “But it was a lot more fun for me to see that! I . . . hehe, I have to thank you for that, Misty.”

Misty grinned.

“Thanks for shooting down a wretched time in my childhood,” Ash said, sighing graciously. “You did real good.”

Looking down, Misty accepted the praise modestly. Her smile irremovable, she gazed back at him again.

“Well, thanks for helping me,” she said softly, her blue eyes gleaming. She couldn’t shake the amazing feeling of Ash’s arms around her any more than she could about shooting Tyler.

Ash chuckled, giving her a determined nod. “No problem. But we aren’t done yet!”

Misty wasn’t going to protest that.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .