Love and War

By Spruceton Spook

Part 5

Misty was on a natural high. It had only been a short time since she had shot Tyler out, and every minute that passed sent another wave of gleeful thrill through her. Suddenly, everything seemed different – the feel of the paintball gun, the sensation of shooting, and most of all, her attitude. She found it surprising how her inner feelings toward the game were abruptly reversing, going from utterly miserable and intolerable to fun and electrifying. Everything was changing. Everything . . . except for one thing.

Her jaw was throbbing of dull pain, but it wasn’t from cringing or flapping her gums in fuss. It was nearly impossible for her to look at Ash without matching his perpetual beam. From the time he had scared her unexpectedly till now, barely seconds went by without a smile pulling at his lips. There was no doubting his smile now, or hers for that matter. They had much to smile and laugh about.

“I still can’t believe I did that,” Misty said, stunned.

“Why?” Ash asked in reply. “You finally shot someone and now you don’t even want to believe it!” He laughed. “Misty, if anything was going to boost your confidence, it had to be that!”

Misty smiled and shrugged. “I do feel better,” she admitted. “I kinda want to shoot again.”

Ash grinned widely. “See? I knew you would finally realize!” he replied happily. “I hated to hear that you didn’t like paintball. It’s so much fun.”

“You know, it is,” Misty agreed slowly, shocking herself that she actually said that. Earlier in the game, she couldn’t image saying or even thinking anything like that. She smiled softly at him. “But I wouldn’t have been able to pull that off without you helping me.”

Ash dismissed it with a wave of his hand and a face. “No, you would’ve been able to even if I hadn’t. You just need to learn how to relax your arms and pay close attention, following your opponent’s every move with your gun. You do that, and pretty much you have a good chance of hitting him.”

“Really?” Misty asked.

“Yeah,” he answered, gesturing with his hands as he continued. “I mean, it’s also a game of reflexes and strategy; you know, hiding and looking out and all? You have to listen, and look, and be aware. But when you’re shooting, you have to be able to keep still to concentrate and keep your eye on the opponent.”

Misty couldn’t help but smile as he spoke of paintballing tactics. Through his restless excitement, he talked confidently and firmly, sounding so knowledgeable of the game. He obviously enjoyed it also, as Misty remembered how eager he was to play this year, practically dragging them home drooling. He hadn’t shut up about it for as long as she could remember, and that enthusiasm had yet to die down.

As he finished, she gave him an admirable look. “You know so much about paintballing, Ash.”

“Nah,” Ash laughed. “It’s just common sense.”

Misty tilted her head interestingly. “No it’s not. I don’t know these things. You sound like you really know about how to play the game. How do you know so much?”

Ash smiled humbly, flattered slightly from Misty’s words. Looking down at his gun and absentmindedly running his finger along it, he breathed softly. “I, uh . . . I used to follow my dad around when he played in the paintball game. Well, when I could get out . . . had to wait for my mom’s back to be turned before I could sneak out with him. I just wanted to be out there so badly.” He chuckled and Misty’s smile grew.

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” she mumbled affably.

“Yeah, well, Mom didn’t think that,” Ash chuckled. “She used to be all crazy and freaked out until I came back with Dad at the end, but I never got hurt. I just hid in the bushes with him and watched him play. And he told me all the stuff he was doing, like commentary.” Looking down again, he sighed. “That used to be so much fun.”

Hearing the solemnity that had suddenly crept into his tone, Misty frowned curiously. “How come he couldn’t make it this year?”

Ash’s head shot up, his eyes glassy. “Oh, he – he just couldn’t, that’s all,” he hastily replied with a wavering voice. Quickly, a smile returned to his face and he jumped up, startling Misty.

“C’mon, let’s find another helpless Pallet Towner for you to take out,” he grinned energetically.

“Um . . . okay,” Misty said. Why the heck is he weighing himself down to me?

The longing that was evident in his former voice combined with the fervor he’d shown for the past few weeks to participate in this game, didn’t seem to settle within the current situation. It made no sense to Misty. Why wasn’t he out playing on his own as he wished, shooting paintballs left and right at his own enemies and having a great time? Why was he with her, throwing away every chance he had to do what he wanted most just to aid her in eliminating his team? But as much as these thoughts occupied her, she quickly threw her frown away, she smiled along with him. Hey, just because she couldn’t comprehend his actions didn’t mean that she couldn’t appreciate them.

The tingle that rushed through her at that moment was shocking, as she had no idea where it came from. The chance to try again was fully anticipated, making her rather dizzy and stirring her frisky craving for amusement.

“How long do you think we have to wait this time?” she asked, jokingly complaining.

Ash sagged, giving her an annoyed, friendly look. “Oh man,” he groaned. “Look, do you want me to just shoot you out now and save ya the horrible agony of waiting?”

“What? No!” she screamed back, eyes wide.

Ash reeled back and cowered. “Geez, okay! Man, your mind changes fast.”

Misty chuckled pathetically and gave him a push. “Well, I finally did something right in this game. I want to keep going!”

“Yeah, but if you keep whining, I’m gonna shoot you out anyway. Don’t forget,” he said, raising his gun threateningly, “I can do that wheneeeeeever I want, prisoner. It might be sooner than ya think.”

Misty wrinkled her nose at him. “Sure, sure,” she scoffed, batting his gun away. “I bet you will.”

Ash’s mouth fell open. “You don’t think I will?” he gasped.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Ash just stared, a resentful, but lighthearted, look taking over his face. “What does that mean?”

Shutting her eyes, Misty shrugged. “Oh, nothing.” Taking a zestful breath, she waved him away. “Just go find me another opponent, Ash.”

Her humorously arrogant manner tormented Ash slightly, but he just smirked smugly. “Well, what if I don’t find you one, huh? What then?”

“You will, though,” Misty sighed.

Ash straightened himself confidently. “No, I won’t!”

“Yes, you will,” she said indifferently, not affected by his defiance. Inside, though, she was laughing maniacally. If there was something more fun than provoking Ash, she would have to experience it to believe it.

“Oh, yeah?!”

This was way too easy.

“Yeah!” Misty replied with a cocky grin, feeding his annoyance. He was having fun as well, but there was still something that always drove him to come out on top even in the most friendly of ego-challenges.

Ash snorted. “Well, just for that, I’m not going to find you another opponent, Misty. You’re on your own.”

“Oh, wow! Does that mean I’m not your prisoner any more, then?” she sqeaked, clutching her fists excitedly.

“No!” Ash barked back. “You’re still my prisoner, but now you have to helplessly watch me send your whole team back painted in pink. And you can do nothing about it!”

Misty slumped and grimaced, though the smile that was pleading to come to her lips was starting to show itself. She bit down on her lip harshly as Ash glared haughtily and commandingly at her, wanting so badly to laugh. She kept her fake pout on and folded her arms, all the while realizing she couldn’t battle the urge much longer.

Ash, much the same, was having a ball. It was weird, though. He knew they were being loud and rambunctious, and they weren’t paying attention. The thought of the game was, as usual, engraved in his mind, but for some reason, he didn’t care. He was having too much fun with the argument, even though everything he said was false and everything she said was not. She was right about it all – even if he did want to shoot her, he didn’t know if he could get up enough courage to do such an outlandish act. And neither would he go around shooting her team before her eyes . . . that was just plain cruel. Funny, yes, but cruel. Maybe she would laugh, too, but there was no way he would do that.

Seeing her fretting facetiously before her, Ash gave in first and displayed his smile. The smile was small, but his laughter was charging against it, and he was beginning to crack. However, Misty was cracking right along with him, and almost instantly, the two exploded into a vigorous fit of giggles.

Not a word passed between them as they laughed, looking at each other any time their eyes weren’t uncontrollably clasped in the hysterics. They lasted that way for a minute or so, gasping for breath by the end of it, which forced them to ease up. They honestly had no idea what was so funny – they taunted each other ceaselessly, and most of the time it led to battle rather than laughter. But it didn’t matter to them; they were having too much fun to even care. The humor took hold of them, the giddiness of the moment heightening.

Ash quieted first, and watched Misty struggle to control herself, raising her face-shield up to rub the tears away. Her cheeks were flushed, and her forehead was glossy with perspiration. Fighting to catch her breath, her eyes slowly lifting to lock with his. She gave him a toothy grin, which he matched almost identically. The last of their laughs dissipating, they stared at each other, both exchanging the fact of how much their squabbles were ridiculous with their bright eyes.

“You know,” Misty mused, “maybe sometime we should actually try to be completely serious for one day.”

“That would be something to pull off,” Ash joked, rolling his eyes.

Misty smiled. “Hey, I think we could do it,” she said. “But, of course, that would include you . . . oh, I don’t know, growing up and becoming mature?”

“Whaa!? Hey!” Ash exclaimed.

Misty guffawed, causing Ash to grind his teeth.

“That’s not funny, Misty! Watch it, I’ll – I’ll shoot you! I have a paintball with your name on it just waiting!”

Misty, succumbing to her laughter defenselessly, flinching as he pointing the gun at her. Sticking her tongue out, she reached for hers. “Yeah, well, I have a paintball with your name on it!”

Ash sneered at the gun pointed at him, flashing his teeth. “I dare you.”

“Don’t dare me, Ash,” she warned.

“Well, if you don’t think I’ll do it, then I don’t think you’ll do it, either!”

“Oh, I’ll do it! You’ll be sorry!”

“Nah, I won’t,” he replied, smirking. “If you shoot me, then I’ll just shoot you back. Then it’ll be your word against mine as to who shot who first!”

Misty shrugged. “They’ll believe me.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Oh, sure,” Misty snorted. “Me, the beautiful, helpless, and unfortunately amateur paintballer against a confident, sadly hyper, younger brat as yourself?”

“Brat!?” Ash gasped.

“Yes, a brat,” Misty replied. “You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Ash paused for a moment, pursing his lips in a cunning grin. “Yeah, but it might be worth it, anyway.”

Misty sighed aggravatedly, ready to shoot back a doubtlessly crude remark, but she restrained from it. Someone had to stop this, and seeing Ash’s whimsical face, still rather boyish for the fourteen-year-old that he was, she knew that was a hopeless cause. He craved the torture that he caused her, knowing it got to her, but then again, she found herself in the same situation often as well. Only he never knew when to stop. And now was the time, seeing as how they were still involved in a very tricky game and neither seemed to remember that.

“Look,” she laughed. “Why don’t we actually go out and shoot other people rather than ourselves?”

Lingering in quiet thought for a moment, Ash nodded. “That’s not a bad idea,” he answered, much to Misty’s surprise. “You’re due for another victim.”

Misty could only smile at this. There he went again, focusing on her. As much as she liked it and appreciated the help, it still confused her. Nonetheless, she shrugged, and began to follow Ash through the woods yet again.

“We’re not gonna get anywhere if we keep arguing like that,” she said.

“Tell me about it,” Ash replied, glancing back and winking at her. She did the same, a shudder of complete contentedness cascading through her. Deep down, she wanted to argue playfully just the more.

They walked a lot this time, albeit slowly, almost ten minutes on their feet advancing in the direction of the Visitors’ side, assuming that much of Ash’s team had wandered over there. They were cautious and quiet, their eyes alert and wide. Misty was getting the shivers again, and so was Ash for that matter. While Misty was itching from expectancy and impatience, Ash was eager to find someone in hopes that Misty would take out whoever that would be. He nearly yearned for it.

To their surprise, they did not have to wait long for an opponent to emerge. It was actually Misty this time who caught sight of him, but she was weary that it might be someone from her team.

Ash squinted furiously from where they were perched, even though the individual was not far away. Figuring either his eyesight was going or the eye-shield before him was hazy, it was hard to tell, but something in Ash’s gut told him that this was someone from his team. He didn’t know why he had that sensation, but still he searched for the certain indication: the short pink ribbon that was tied around the person’s waist. Ash didn’t have this – he had torn off his yellow one upon joining his “team” and had never replaced it. At this point, he kind of wished he hadn’t even bothered.

“Can you tell yet?” Misty asked, her voice squeaking with apprehension.

“Well, it sure as heck ain’t Brock,” Ash replied, causing Misty to snicker. “If only he would turn around and get out of the bushes . . .”

“Holding up a big sign that says ‘Shoot Me,’” Misty continued, smiling.

“Yeah, that would be helpful,” Ash replied, straining. “Damn, and he’s so close, too.”

Misty leapt up to look along with him. “Maybe it’s another one of your friends,” she bubbled.

“Ack,” Ash choked.

“Say, how many people did you know on that team, anyway?”

Ash shook his head exasperatedly. “Too many.”

“You still keep in touch with any of them?”

Ash glanced at her. “Have you seen me keeping in touch with them?” he asked. Misty just sagged, and Ash smiled. “No. Haven’t seen them for four years, except Gary, of course.”

“Well, I hope it’s another person that bothered you,” she said. “I felt good helping you out that last time.”

Taking his eyes from the opponent for a moment, Ash gave Misty a broad smile. “You’re the best,” he told her, nudging her.

“Thank you,” she replied, arching her shoulders proudly.

Ash giggled, turning back to scrutinize the person. As much as he was looking for the pink ribbon, he was trying desperately hard to identify the person as well. After what Misty had said, he kind of hoped it was one of his old acquaintances. Whether he had a bad history with them or not, it sure would be fun to watch. For a moment, he actually wished it was Gary. Just the thought of it made his body shake with secretive chuckling.

“C’mon, who is it?” Misty asked, juggling her gun around. “I wanna shoot him!”

She growled the last desire, and Ash trembled happily. He still couldn’t get over how completely her attitude had changed, but he loved it. Finally, she was beginning to get excited, beginning to hunger for the adventure and fun, beginning to feel about the game . . . the same way he did. Blinking calmly, he shook his head.

“Chill, Misty,” he said. “Let me see who it is first. I might know him.”

“So it is someone from your team?”

Craning his neck around drastically, Ash peered ardently through the bushes, praying for that splash of pink to hit his eye. It was such a vibrant color amidst the greenery, and if he could just see for one second . . .

Pop!

The echo of the gunshot resounded mildly through the quiet wood, but it was enough to make Ash and Misty simultaneously screech, taking cover.

“What was that?” Misty cried frantically, her eyes wide. “Who shot!?”

“I dunno,” Ash replied shakily, the shot being so unexpected and sudden. “I don’t think they were shooting at us, though.”

Misty shuddered. “Are you sure?” she whimpered, clearly terrified. She reached out and grabbed Ash’s shirt, pulling herself close to him, feeling more protected and shielded. She lowered her head and braced herself, her heart pounding from the thrill.

Ash, meanwhile, was trying to look out to see what had happened, but Misty holding onto him was restraining him. He pried slightly from her grip to observe the scene, and his mouth dropped as he saw their opponent rushing towards them, obviously the intended victim of the last shot. His head was shooting back and forth as he careened unknowingly towards them, holding his gun in preparation to fight back. Ash didn’t see anyone chasing him, figuring they had taken a shot at him and were too afraid to show themselves. But this boy – this boy Ash recognized as he went sprinting directly past them as indeed one of his old buddies – was well aware that someone was after him. Only it wasn’t Misty.

Ash beamed, a bolt of antsy eagerness running through him. He quickly swooped down and seized Misty, who let go of him to see the kid dart by.

“Quick, Misty!” he shouted just above a whisper. “It’s Danny! It’s Danny! Get him!”

“Okay, okay!” she giggled stimulatedly, lifting her gun and pointing it without hesitation at Danny. Ash expected her to stall, licking his lips in preparation for the encouragement he was going to give her. But to his shock, just before he got ready to tell her not to worry, she pulled to trigger, sending a paintball soaring towards the boy.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed as she shot, which, to both their astonishment, hit Danny dead-on, causing him to stumble forward a bit. Misty had successfully caught him in the lower leg, her yellow paint gleaming in the hot, midday sun. This time, they both dove behind the bush instinctively.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Misty screamed, low and muffled on account that she was crying through clenched teeth. Her gun dropped from her hand and she held her arms before her, trembling from the commotion. Not even paying heed to what Danny was doing in reaction to his elimination, her glistening eyes flickered into Ash’s, dazed with overwhelming pride.

“You did it! You did it!” Ash cried, incredulous laughter present. His arms extended as well, and they gripped each other’s long sleeves at the same time. “I can’t believe it!”

She broke into laughter along with him. “Oh my God,” she gasped, her face blushing. She was restlessly overjoyed, and shocked at that. Her heart beat vigorously, threatening to rip from her chest. “That was so much fun! I did it!”

Ash’s smile was wider and more surprised than she had even seen. He was completely blown away, but intensely happy at the same time.

“See?” he said, his voice softening with deep breaths. “I told you you didn’t need my help! You were great!”

“I can’t believe I did that!” she exclaimed again, clutching on more tightly to his sleeves and shaking his arms wildly. Throwing a quick glance over the bush, she witnessed this Danny walking away, probably still oblivious to who had shot him. She didn’t mind though . . . she had just helped out her team a little bit more. For the first time, she was starting to feel useful, an effective teamster and paintballer.

“Who was that?” she asked. “Danny, you said?”

Ash nodded, still breathing soundly. “Yeah, Danny. Old friend, I guess you could say.” He looked off at his old schoolmate trudging off. “Wow, he’s grown. Hehe, he used to be one of the shortest people in school . . . well, along with me. We were both small, but the others tended to gang up on him more than me. Oh my God, in dodgeball . . . heh, you would hit him with the ball and every time he’d go down! It was so hilarious!”

He began to laugh loudly, effortlessly dragging Misty to join in. Still, she managed to give him shameful eyes through the fun.

“Aww, Ash, that’s not funny!” she giggled scoldingly. “That’s mean!”

“I know, I know,” Ash admitted. “But it was so much fun to hit him with the ball! He was so pathetic and wimpy. I can’t believe he didn’t fall to the ground after you shot him!”

Misty sighed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, Ash, you’re something.”

“What?” Ash shrugged defensively.

“Nothing,” Misty giggled, waving him away. “I just haven’t seen you make fun of so many people in one day, that’s all. First me, then Tyler, and now Danny.”

“Well, I can’t help it! One’s a bastard, one was a complete riot in school . . .”

Grinning slyly, Misty leaned forward. “And me? What about me?”

Ash paused, his smile fading for a moment. “Well, you,” he said, thinking for a moment before his smirk returned, “you’re . . . you.”

Misty tilted her head, giving him a pensive look. She didn’t exactly know what he meant by that, but his voice was sweet-tempered and sincere, not mocking.

“I mean, you’re Misty,” he continued, shrugging. “I tease you, and you tease me, because . . .”

Because why? she thought, her insides tightening.

“Because we’re best friends. We can do that to each other because . . . we know it’s just for fun, it’s not true. We don’t mean any of it. We just do it to play around.” Slowly, a smile crept to Misty’s face. In all honesty, she didn’t expect that answer from him. She was waiting for him to tell her that she was easy to tease, that it got on her nerves so often, and that it was just plain old fun. A legitimate Ash statement; one she could have stolen from his own lips. And yet . . . that wasn’t what he had said at all. It was more of . . . what she would say.

He looked down at the ground. “I mean, you know I wouldn’t shoot you out or – or turn you over to my team.” He laughed softly. “And . . . and all the times I call you names and such . . . that’s just for fun. I don’t mean them . . . although you did pretty much suck this morning with that target practice. That was a truthful tease.”

Misty couldn’t hold back her laughter at that; it was too true. “I know,” she nodded. “I was so horrible.”

“But you aren’t anymore,” Ash said gleefully, grinning like a madman. “That last shot of yours . . . it was . . .” He shrugged, lost in amazement. “. . . perfect. Did you even focus for that, for God’s sake?”

“Not really!” Misty replied energetically, thinking about how her muscles, this time jumpy rather than nervous, had loosened and allowed her to shoot without a delay. “Just pointed and shot.”

Ash slapped his knees in aggravation. “You know, I practice and practice for years and risk my neck following my dad into the woods and try to be loose and confident, and here you are, coming from knowing absolutely nothing to shooting people out basically on a whim!” He narrowed his eyes. “What’s your secret? What are you, a witch or something?”

Misty narrowed her eyes. “No,” she retorted. “You just did a good job teaching me.”

“Oh, I did not,” he replied humbly, looking away.

“Yeah, right!” Misty disputed. “C’mon, Ash, if you hadn’t run into me today, I would’ve still been hangin’ out behind that same batch of bushes to the point of insanity. No on would have ever found me, I woulda been sitting there all day not knowing what was happening, and meanwhile, the game would’ve been over and I’d still be sitting in the woods like an idiot.”

“No, you wouldn’t have!” Ash rolled his eyes at her rambling. “I would have come looking for ya.”

Misty smiled warmly. “Well, thank you for that, Ash.”

“You’re welcome. But I still think that it wasn’t just me that helped you discover how to play.”

“Sure, whatever,” Misty said, nodding. She was firm in her belief that he was a good teacher no matter how modest he was going to be about it. Thinking about how he had helped her and given up his chance to play was something that strengthened each time it came to her mind, warmed her with a strong sensation of gratefulness. He didn’t have to do this; he didn’t have to waste his time working with her. She wouldn’t have been hostile towards him if he hadn’t. The whole situation with the teams was completely understandable to her, even as much as she felt it was unfair. And yet, it was funny the way it turned out, almost as if Ash was secretly becoming part of the team anyway.

As they fell into a serene silence, their eyes came together again, lingering. A pleasant little feeling came over Misty, revealing itself through the amiable look she was giving him. She stared into his eyes, taking in his expression of pure content. She inhaled calmly, sighing under her breath. Something about him today was just stirring something within her. Seeing how excited he was and how joyous he acted over her accomplishments was not something to disregard. She had gone from being positively miserable to never happier simply because of him, and for some reason, she got this vibe from Ash as well.

“Ash?” she asked gently. Resting his face in his hands, his eyebrows rose in reply. “Um . . . what you did today . . . you know, helping me and all? I . . . I just wanna say thanks.”

Ash nodded affably, not saying a word.

“I mean, I was so . . . sad and depressed and all, until you showed up,” she continued, shrugging as she tried to explain to him this irresistible feeling of thankfulness she was experiencing. “It’s just . . . I know how much you wanted this day to come and how badly you wanted to play, but instead you’re here, helping me and totally giving up your opportunities to do that.”

He gave her a meek smile, and turned away momentarily, only to look back at her.

“No big deal.”

“Yes it is!” she protested. “That was some hard thing to do. And yet, you did it, and . . . and I think that really shows what . . . what a nice person you are, Ash.”

She got him there. Not only was his expression bashful now, he was downright blushing. He was speechless, and Misty’s heart beat with happiness.

“Thanks, Misty,” he finally said, a look of genuine gratefulness washing over his face. “But – but, no, you’re looking to much into it! I – I wanted to help you, and it was fun to do that. I liked seeing you hit all my old friends.”

Misty shook her head at his modesty. “Yeah, but Ash, still! You gave up playing this game and shooting out your own people just to show me how to play! After I had shot that first person, you could have easily left and told me I was fine then. But you didn’t . . . and that was just so great of you.”

He laughed, looking down a little embarrassingly. “But I had to be with you, Misty. You have no idea how much I . . . hated being on that other team, how much I wanted to be with you guys.”

As he looked up, he caught sight of Misty gaping at him sympathetically.

“I mean, I promised to help you and all!” he said, tenderly pounding the ground with his fists. “And besides, I hated hanging out with Gary . . . man, that was . . . uggh.”

He stuck his tongue out in a disgruntled fashion, inducing a chuckle from Misty.

“You were hanging out with Gary?” she asked, surprised. “Why?”

Ash sighed. “Well . . . he wanted me to for some odd reason, but . . . I guess I didn’t think it would be so bad. Like, deep down, I kinda felt that maybe I could have fun with him like old times and try to, I dunno, fix my friendship with him . . . be buddies again.”

Misty cocked her head, smiling kindly. “You miss that, huh?”

Ash was reluctant at first, but then nodded a bit sadly.

“At first,” he continued, “it wasn’t that bad. But then he just proved that he’s just as he is: arrogant and snotty. He kept criticizing how I wanted to play –”

“You?” Misty intermitted, her tone in high disbelief. “But you know so much!”

“Well, he didn’t think so,” Ash scowled. “He didn’t want to have ‘fun.’ He just wanted to win, and yeah . . . I wanna win, too . . .”

Misty nodded knowingly. “But, you wanna have fun,” she filled in for him. “I know. Trust me, I can pretty much picture Gary in my head right now saying this stuff.”

“Exactly,” Ash moaned. “And that’s why . . . it’s funny . . . I went off on my own looking for you guys, thinking I was going to have fun and shoot ya out like you said, but . . . when I saw you, I just . . . totally felt different about it. I saw you, and I remembered how bad you were at practice, and well . . .”

“You took me as prisoner for good causes,” she said.

Blinking, Ash beamed. “I guess so,” he replied. “But . . . I have to admit, I kinda used that as an excuse to hang out with you.”

Misty’s eyes rose. “What?” she exclaimed.

Ash shrugged. “I figured I had to do that,” he chuckled. “Or else you’d shoot me.”

“Ash, even if I’d tried to shoot you, I probably would have missed,” Misty said, slightly peeved that she had been had, although she found it pretty funny as well. “You shouldn’t have worried about that.”

Giggling, Ash nodded. “True. But I thought that was a pretty good tease, though.” He winked at her as she gave him a wearied face.

“So I’m not your prisoner?”

“If you don’t wanna be. I guess not,” Ash replied softly. He would have told her eventually, but he pictured himself doing it way after the game was over that afternoon. When he wasn’t at risk of being at the receiving end of Misty’s paintball gun. But seeing her face as it was now, Ash was relieved to realize that that was certainly not the case.

“Well, that makes me feel a bit better,” Misty remarked kiddingly. “All this time thinking that I was going to be your final victim . . . or in this case, your only victim.”

“Oh, stop,” Ash laughed. “I wasn’t going to shoot you. Had no plans of it – unless you really bugged me. Hehe, no, seriously . . . I wasn’t going to.”

“I know.” She slouched and tilted her head compassionately. “But you should have a victim. You wanted to do this.”

Ash shrugged. “There’s always next year,” he said impassively. He didn’t care at all at this point, and it didn’t bother him either as much as he would have imagined. Seeing Misty take down two people under his instruction, and having the pleasure of spending the day with her, wasn’t his idea of a wasted day.

“I guess so,” Misty breathed softly, looked away and into the woods. It was so quiet and tranquil, something hard to believe to be the site of a competitive paintball war.

“Besides,” Ash said, breaking the quietness, “who needs a victim to have fun? I had fun.”

Misty smirked. “You didn’t have any fun with Gary?”

“Are you kidding?” Ash responded ridiculously, giving her a look.

“Well, he’s like you in a sense – he’s determined and wants to play. I mean, aside from you looking for fun, you’re like that, too.”

Ash snorted in absurdity. “Yeah, but I don’t go around shooting people in the head,” he replied, instantly vexed at the mention of Gary’s over-aggressive style of paintballing.

Misty’s eyes shot open in disbelief. “Gary was shooting people in the head!?”

Ash nodded casually, not shocked with her reaction.

“But – but you’re not supposed to do that!” Misty sputtered. “Right?”

“Nope,” Ash confirmed. “But he did. Two people: this one kid and Tracey.”

Misty’s face scrunched with concern. “He shot Tracey in the head!?” she asked worriedly. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Ash replied. “But he looked like he was going to kill Gary, though. He shoulda.”

Misty huffed, shifting around to get off her knees and sit down. She shook her head, thinking about how Gary had broken a rule that even she knew, and deliberately at that, as implied with Ash’s tone. And the fact that poor Tracey was a target of that made her ire grow.

“I was getting sick of it,” Ash said. “He wouldn’t let me shoot either. I was going to shoot Tracey, but he pushed me out of the way at the last moment and did it himself. I mean, that was it for me. I – I don’t play with people who play like that.”

“Well, with my crazy shooting, I may have done that,” Misty chuckled.

“Yeah, but at least you wouldn’t have done it on purpose,” Ash replied. “I wonder how many other people he shot in the head since I left him? Hehe, I told him I was staking out the area. Probably doesn’t care, though. He’s too busy taking people’s heads off to worry about where I went.”

Misty was disgusted with what she had heard, to say the least. She knew Ash exaggerated often about Gary and his ill-mannered personality, but this was something she could see Gary doing. Ash may exaggerate, but he didn’t lie. With their cold friendship slipping away, and their constant battle to out-do each other, Misty could see Gary overpowering and intimidating Ash, as well as perturbing him.

“You did the right thing to leave, Ash,” Misty told him. “I think that sucks what he’s doing.”

Ash rolled his eyes. “Tell me about it.”

Suddenly, Misty grinned prankishly, giving him a nudge. “Hey, I think we have to get back at Gary for that.”

Ash looked up at her. “Huh? For shooting people in the head?”

“Yeah,” Misty replied. “And not letting you shoot, either. I can’t even imagine what it would feel like if someone didn’t let me shoot.” She winked, chuckling at the irony of her statement.

Ash caught it as well, and he laughed. “What do you have in mind, Misty?”

Reaching up to playfully twirl the end of her hair, she stared thoughtfully at the cloud-dotted sky through the towering branches. “Oh, I dunno,” she shrugged. “I sure would like to shoot him, though.”

“Yeah, so would I!” Ash proclaimed.

Misty’s eyes went wide. “Hey, that’s an even better idea!” she cried excitedly, hopping to her feet in an instant.

“What is?” Ash asked, sweatdropping from her sudden outcry.

Without saying a word, Misty reached over and pulled his gun from his hands, replacing it with hers. A crafty smile curving her lips, she leaned forward, her mouth brushing alongside the baffled boy’s helmet-covered ear.

“Just pretend there’s a red dot in the center, and you’ll do fine.”

STAY TUNED FOR THE EXCITING CONCLUSION!