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Misty never thought it would come to this. She never thought she would find herself standing in a hotel bathrobe, gazing between dresses like it’s a life-threatening decision. Maybe it is. Maybe if she picks the pink one, then Ash will reject her outright and this whole thing will be a waste of time.
Not that she’s going to give him anything to reject, exactly. She just wants to be fully prepared for the night ahead. You know, on the off chance that she happens to work up the nerve to pull him aside and say, by the way, I've been in love with you for ten years and I wish I'd told you last time and...oh, you don't feel the same? Well, that's fine, I'll just excuse myself and—
Misty groans. Even in her imagination, she gets shot down. Falling in love with your childhood best friend sounds so romantic, but in reality, it's a world of uncertainty. It's over-thinking every touch and every smile. It's long sleepless nights lying awake and wondering what would happen if you crossed the line. They've stuck with each other through days of fighting, and weeks of silence, and months of being apart. The distance never destroyed them, but maybe this could. And the thought of ruining a friendship she's treasured for half of her life...that terrifies Misty.
It doesn't help that their last interaction is still weighing heavy on her mind.
She'd dropped by Pallet when she heard Ash was visiting home before he left to compete in the League that could make him a Champion. They spent the whole weekend just hanging out—battling each other and watching movies together. On Sunday morning, Misty woke up on a couch with Ash beside her—under a blanket that she realised with embarrassment that Delia must have placed over them—and despite the cramped space and the fact that her arm was numb under Ash's weight, she felt so comfortable. So at home. Everything felt so right.
Misty felt so confident, that when Ash geared up to leave, she followed him out and she finally went and did it. She...she kissed him—right outside his mom's house, on the road that led to victory. Misty looped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against Ash's mouth, the way she’d always dreamed of.
And when she pulled back to find him gawking—because of course, he was too Ash to do anything but blink at her and blush—she didn't waver. She grinned.
"I won't wish you luck," she said. "Because you don't need luck. You've got this. And I know you're going to win."
"Pika!"
Misty ruffled yellow fur. "You too, Pikachu!”
"T-Thanks." Ash nodded, and his mouth curled up to a grin, the confidence she loved shining through. "Watch out for me, okay? Next time we meet, I'll be a Pokémon Master!"
He did it, too. That incredible idiot actually won, and that's why she's here tonight. For a celebration in a grand hotel ballroom, paid for by the League themselves. Which started twenty minutes ago. She should be down there already, and she will be. As soon as she decides on a dress.
“Misty?” She jumps at the knock on her hotel door. “Are you done?”
She swings open her door and finds Brock and Tracey standing there in their suits. How do they look so put together? So composed?
“Oh,” Brock says. “You’re not—”
“No, I’m not dressed, and yes, I’m contemplating leaving before this whole thing even starts, and no, I don’t want to talk about it!” she snaps.
They exchange a look.
“Can we come in?” Tracey asks soothingly.
Misty pulls open her door wider and just sighs in response.
They sit on the end of her bed, greeting Psyduck fondly when he pops out to see them. Brock unloads a bag of snacks, settling in like he was expecting this. She's glad someone finds her troubles entertaining.
“I can't face him,” she says, pacing up and down in front of the bed. “I’m going home.”
“You can’t go home,” Brock says. “Ash would be heartbroken if you weren’t there tonight.”
“He’s got so many friends,” she says. “He probably wouldn’t even notice!”
"Of course he would,” says Tracey.
"He really wants to see you," Brock says. "He was sad he couldn't meet you at the station."
"He'd meet everyone there if he could. You know what Ash is like. He's all friendly and kind and always there to meet you with that big, dopey grin and—"
The look Brock and Tracey give her is identical. It screams you've got it bad and please, please tell him tonight and put us all out of our misery.
She wishes they didn't know about her feelings at all, but after ten years, only the densest person on the planet could have missed it.
So, Ash, basically.
Misty groans and flops back onto the bed.
"Careful," Brock says. "You'll mess up your hair."
She curled the ends of it earlier—her sisters taught her how—and for once it actually looked something other than sporty and chlorinated.
"Oh, what does it matter?" Misty sighs. "I can't do this. It's so selfish of me to just turn up on Ash’s big night and say—oh, what am I even gonna say?"
"Psyyyy," chimes Psyduck helpfully.
Brock feeds her half of a homemade cookie. Misty crunches it wearily. "Remember what you told me years ago on the plane back from Alola?" he asks.
Misty sighs again. "That I didn't want to tell him, because I was happy just to be his friend. I didn't want to burden him with all this while he had so much left to do."
"And?"
"There was another part?" Misty asks.
"And?" Brock and Tracey say together.
Misty takes a breath. "And that I'd tell him when he made it. If I still felt the same."
“And tonight is…” Tracey prompts.
Misty covers her face. She wants to swim laps in the hotel pool. No, she wants to bribe someone to lend her a flying type so she can get out of here and never look back.
"I don't even know how to face him. What do I even lead with? Hey, Ash, remember when I kissed you?'"
"Just do what you always do," Brock says. "Congratulate him. Insult him. Nothing's changed."
"You're right,” she says. “This is Ash we're talking about. He probably just thought I was being friendly."
Misty knows she wasn’t the first girl to kiss him hoping that he’d figure it out. She probably won't be the last one either, and that thought stings. She’s not sure what she’d been expecting. That he’d whisk her off her feet and spin her around and say some perfect line from a romantic movie about how he couldn’t live without her? Dream on.
"You’ll never know unless you talk to him,” Tracey says.
"And,” Brocks says, “if it all goes wrong then I have more snacks than anyone could ever need and a fully stocked mini-bar with your name on it.”
Misty smiles weakly.
"Ash cares about you,” Tracey adds. “And no matter what, I'm sure you guys will always be friends."
"Okay," Misty says. She takes Brock’s hand and lets him pull her up, smoothing down her hair. She can do this. She runs her own gym. She’s won multiple tournaments. She's fearless. (Mostly. Apart from the whole bug thing.) Ash is her best friend, and regardless of whether her love is unrequited, she wants to be there for him. "Okay," she says again.
She's already stepping into her shoes and heading towards the door, before Tracey says, "uhhhh, Misty?"
"Oh. Right!" She's still wearing the bathrobe. She grabs at a bunch of dresses, then turns towards the best friends she could ask for. "Which one?"
***
"Are you sure I chose the right dress?" Misty asks Brock as they stand outside the grand doors to the hotel ballroom linking arms.
It feels a little cliche to wear sea-blue as the Cerulean City Gym Leader, but it'll look on-brand if she gets photographed. (Maybe her sisters are getting to her.) And it’s a nice dress. It skims Misty's knees and sparkles in the light. It makes her feel pretty.
"It's perfect," Brock says. "You look beautiful."
"You'd think a pineapple was beautiful," Misty says, rolling her eyes. And then she squeezes his arm. "Thank you. For everything. You're a great friend, you know."
"I know. Without me, you and Ash would've killed each other years ago and there'd be no party to even go to."
Misty laughs. She takes a breath. They get checked off of a guest list and step through the doors and...it's nice. It's surprisingly normal. Sure, it’s decorated all fancy, but it’s not as intimidating as she thought it would be. She can do this.
There are people and Pokémon everywhere. Ash has so many friends, so Misty's not surprised by the big turnout, but they're not the only ones here. There are trainers and Gym Leaders and Champions and the press. The League has gone all out with this. There are even banners with Ash’s face on them. He looks great in the photograph that they used for it. Though he's grown in many ways since they travelled together, his smile always stays the same. The sight of it makes her scan the room, looking for Ash in the crowd.
"Hey Brock," Misty says. "Have you seen—"
"Over there!" he says, and Misty follows his gaze hopefully. She clenches her fist. It’s not Ash. It’s Nurse Joy. "And there!" Brock says as a pretty girl walks past them. "And there! And," he gasps, gripping Misty’s arm to steady himself. "Is that Olivia?"
Misty elbows him in the ribs, and then she freezes, because just beyond Olivia is a face she'd know anywhere. He's here. (Of course he is. It's his party!) He’s near the front of the room having some official pictures taken with his mom. Delia's smaller than him these days, and currently smothering him with hugs. Misty smiles as she watches them, her heart accelerating wildly in her chest.
All she wants to do is charge over there. She wants to hug Delia and ask about her flowers and make a fuss over Pikachu. She wants to see Ash. To congratulate him and kiss him again and demand every mundane detail from every day they've been apart.
But he's busy. And then he’s not. Misty watches the photographer lower his camera. She watches Ash wiggle free from his mom's grip. He looks over and their eyes meet across the room, and it's like the whole world stops. Ash's face lights up and his grins at her, waving with his whole arm. Misty raises her hand and waves back.
"Group C!" the photographer announces, and the moment is shattered. The music pauses and an enthusiastic announcer repeats the message over the PA.
"Oh! That's us," Brock says.
"What do you mean?" Misty asks.
“Come on!”
"Tall Pokémon at the back," the photographer shouts, looking overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people and Pokémon that emerge.
At first, Misty thinks it must be some Gym Leader thing, but then she realises as Ash's travel companions line up in rows, that it's all his friends, old and new. Brock’s already over there. Misty should go join them too.
Pikachu spots her as she approaches, darting through the crowd to charge into her arms. She holds Pikachu tight as she makes her way over to the group, pausing for a moment when she's there. Almost everyone is lined up already. She doesn't know where to go.
"Misty!" Lana waves from the second row. "Love the dress."
"Thanks!" she says. She can probably squeeze in next to Lana. If Mallow just moves over, then...
"There's space over here!" May says, nudging her brother sideways with her hip. She gestures to the spot to the right of her as Max stumbles and glares.
Front and center. Next to Ash.
“Misty!” Ash says, grinning at her. “Get over here.”
Her heart flutters as Ash shifts a little closer to Dawn to make room. He looks unreasonably handsome in his suit. Pikachu leaps from her arms to Ash's shoulder as Misty tucks in next to him.
"Typical girl," he mutters. "Always making us wait."
"Hey, I traveled a long way to be here, you know," Misty snaps defensively. "And I didn't expect a run-in with paparazzi the second I arrived."
"They announced it before. You might've known if you'd got here on time."
Ash noticed she was late? Was he...was he looking for her?
"Squeeze in everyone," the photographer announces, looking more stressed by the minute.
Misty's breath leaves her body as Ash wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her in. Her skin prickles under the touch. And then a hand on her shoulder nudges her closer.
Misty turns to glare over her shoulder, and Brock's right there behind her. "Hey!" She hisses. "What are you—"
"You heard the guy." Brock grins. "Squeeze in."
“I won't bite, you know," Ash says. "Nice dress, by the way."
It wasn't enough that her body was overheating. Now her face is burning up too!
"Alright, everyone!" The photographer calls. "Say Pikachu!"
"Pikachu!"
The group disperses after. There's so much chatter and laughter.
"Alright," the photographer says. "Next up we'd like a few shots with Ash and Leon. Wait. Where is he? Has anyone seen Leon?"
Misty smiles and ducks away, wondering who to follow. Brock's already distracted with another pretty girl, and who knows where Tracey is. There's plenty of people she could talk to. She's met most of Ash's friends enough times to make conversation. She's weighing up her options when someone grabs hold of her hand.
"Where do you think you're going?" Ash asks.
Misty turns to face him, her cheeks warming again. Stuff like hand-holding came so easily when they were kids, but now, she's so aware of every touch.
"What are you doing?" Misty hisses, gesturing at the photographer. "Haven't you got places to be and people to talk to?"
"Yeah," he says. "You."
"But what about—"
"Those guys can wait. One of my best friends just got here and I haven't even said hi yet, so..." He's grinning at her again. Oh, how she missed that smile. "Hi Misty."
"Hey, Ash," Misty says, and then she hugs him so tight that she feels the noise of surprise he makes as much as she hears it. "You really did it!" She beams, and the happy tears she'd shed when she'd watched him on the gym's TV prickle in her eyes again. "You actually won!"
"Did you expect anything else?" he asks smugly.
“And I see you're still modest." Misty laughs. "This party’s amazing! And it’s all for you.”
"Wanna explore it?”
Warmth pools in Misty's stomach as Ash leads her towards the buffet table. She can't keep the smile off her face. With or without his Champion title, he's still the same Ash that leads with his heart and thinks with his stomach. Pikachu leaps back into her arms, and Misty holds him close.
"So how are things?" Ash asks through a mouthful of food. "How's the gym? Beat any good trainers later? You gotta keep me updated on any tough little squirts. Gotta defend my title, right?"
"Well, I know a strong, valiant water type Gym Leader who could still beat you."
"Ha! You wish. I'll beat you in a battle right here!"
Misty beams. She's so glad it's always like this. It's warm and familiar ever after months apart. They might not always talk much when Ash is on the road, but there's a closeness that never goes away. Being with Ash always crushes any insecurities Misty feels about being left behind. After all this time, they're still best friends.
"Oh yeah?" she says.
"Yeah!"
"Ash Ketchum," a voice scolds. "There's a photographer over there waiting for you. You're not shying away from your responsibilities, are you?"
Ash's confident pose falters as Delia stands before them, hands planted on her hips. "Uh, no Mom. I was just—"
"Making people wait?" she fills in.
Ash runs his fingers through his hair. It was probably neat at the start of the evening, but it's already sticking up at odd angles. "I just wanted to say hi to Misty…”
"Of course you did. But you can talk to your friends after you've finished working. This whole party is for you. You would 't want to look ungrateful now, would you?"
"No," he says defeatedly. "I'll go."
"Good," Delia says sternly, and then her face softens. "Oh, Misty, it's wonderful to see you. You look so beautiful."
"Thanks, Delia. So do you! I love that dress! How have you been?"
"I'll find you later," Ash says, fingers brushing Misty’s arm softly as he passes.
And somehow, he does.
Ash is the most popular man in the room, but they keep finding their way back to each other. It’s not like Misty spends the whole night waiting around for him. She finds lots of people to talk to. But she's always there when he finds a quiet moment. And every time she’s weak and gives in and lets her eyes wander towards him, somehow Ash is always looking back.
Is it the same with everyone else? Is there anyone else Ash keeps gravitating back to?
They end up next to each other, sitting with a group of Ash's friends. Gary's just interrupted a story that Ash is telling when the screech of a microphone drowns him out.
“Friends and trainers,” the host's voice booms out. “In just a few moments The Champion’s Dance will commence!"
"What's the Champion's Dance?" Gary asks.
Ash groans, sliding down in his seat. "Just some stupid ritual thing."
“Do you get a costume?” Misty grins. “Do you have to perform a routine?”
“No!" Ash looks pink. "It's...it's not a big deal, okay!"
“It’s traditional,” Serena says. “Ash—uh, the Champion—has to pick someone to dance with. They say that their relationship will be blessed with good luck.”
She smiles, and Misty wonders if she wants to dance with Ash. Serena's so pretty that Misty's sure they'd look great together.
“Can Ash even dance?” Iris asks.
Misty hums. “I don’t remember him being that bad.”
“When did we…” Ash frowns, and then his face lights up. “Oh, at the summer festival! When Brock—”
“Yes!” Misty exclaims. "With the ghost!"
"Ha! That was crazy."
"Chuu. Pika pika!"
There's a soft confused silence from the rest of the group as they laugh together, but Misty barely notices. She loved that night. She felt so pretty, dancing with Ash. It's a shame that she won't get to do it again tonight. She doesn't know what she'll do when he's out there with someone else. Hide in the bathroom, maybe. Tell herself that she doesn't care when she does.
“Would our newest Champion please take to the floor?” the announcer prompts.
Ash sighs and drags himself up.
“Good luck,” Misty says, forcing a wink and a smile. “Try not to fall on your face!”
“I could say the same to you,” Ash says. “Since you’ll be dancing with me.”
"Me?" Misty tries not to squirm as everyone at the table turns to look at her. Ash wants to dance with her?
“Yeah,” Ash says. “If I’m embarrassing myself, then I'm taking you down with me. Consider it revenge.”
"For what?"
He takes her hands and tugs with enough force that she's pulled out of her chair and almost collides with his chest. He catches her before she falls, fingers settling on her waist. "You know what," he says, his eyes twinkling.
She really doesn’t. But there's a smugness that makes Misty want to rise to the challenge. "Like I'd ever embarrass myself anyway. I'm a brilliant dancer!"
"Prove it," he says. "Come on. Don't make me carry you."
“You wouldn't dare."
"Wouldn't I?"
Misty squeaks as his arms wrap tighter around her waist and he lifts her, so her feet leave the floor. “Ash! Put me—”
The music cuts. A spotlight illuminates them, and Ash lowers her as everyone in the room turns to look.
“Looks like Champion Ash Ketchum will be dancing with Cerulean City’s Gym Leader. In fact, they may have already started!”
There’s a chuckle of laughter across the room, and Misty’s cheeks burn.
“Are they always like that?” she hears Goh ask as they head to the dance floor.
The whole table answers with a unified, "yes." But she can't worry about that now because she has to dance with Ash while all these people watch.
He bows first—actually bows—and then the music starts and they move together, touching hands and waists and shoulders. And they dance. Thankfully, the song's not too slow. There's a decent tempo and Ash seems confident in a way that makes her sure that someone made him practice. Delia snaps a photo as they dance past. Ash leads her and Misty follows, the way she always did.
By the second verse, other people have joined them, and the dancefloor is more crowded. It feels easier without everyone watching them.
"You could have warned me, you know," she says as they spin. "If you were going to ask me."
"I wasn't planning on it!" Ash says, and then he winces as Misty's eyes narrow. "No. I mean—I did think of you when I heard about it—n-not that I spend a lot of time thinking about you or—wait. Not that I don't. Look. I just—" he makes a small, frustrated sound and Misty tries to hide her amusement. "I was going to ask you but I forgot, okay?"
"So that's it, huh?" she says, and she can't stop herself from smiling. Ash thinks about her. Out of everyone in the room, he chose her to dance with. Because they're friends? Because they're comfortable together? Or because they're something more?
"Well, I'm glad you asked me," she says. "It’s nice to know you finally want me around.”
"I always wanted you around."
Misty snorts. "As if! You spend months trying to leave me behind!"
"We were kids. I didn't know you then, Misty. Not like I do now."
Do you know me, Ash? she wants to ask. But she prods his shoulder instead because teasing him always came more naturally than being honest. “Oh yeah? What do you know now? That I’m the best water Pokémon trainer in the world? That I’m internationally renowned for my strength and beauty?”
“Yeah, actually,” he says, so sincere that Misty almost steps on his foot. “You’re a great trainer. And I’m pretty sure I could beat you in an arm wrestle, but you definitely look better than I would in that dress, so…”
Is Ash agreeing that she’s beautiful? The same boy who used to tell her that her face cracked mirrors. He’s not a boy anymore. He’s staring right at her, and they're barely even moving. The whole world melts away until it's just the two of them, facing each other, skin tingling where they touch.
They'd been closer than this when she'd kissed him. It wouldn’t take so much for her to do it again.
"Excuse me, Mr. Ketchum!” A reporter says, and they both jump. “Can we get a photograph of you and your girlfriend for the Daily Starmie?"
"How long have you two been dating?" asks another reporter.
"Were you that scrawny girl who used to follow him around?"
Misty clenches her fist as her anger bubbles. Not only did a bunch of reporters have the nerve to interrupt their nice moment, but they're also implying that she used to be scrawny?
"Sorry," Ash says, stepping in front of Misty. "We already gave someone else the exclusive rights to our story."
"Who?" Asks the first reporter.
"Come on," Ash says, gripping Misty's arm and tugging her across the dancefloor. "Let's go."
"Where are we going?" she asks as they exit the ballroom through a large set of mahogany doors. "Don't you have Champion duties to attend to?"
"Pikachu thinks that I've earned a break."
“You do?” Misty asks.
"Pika!" Pikachu agrees. “Pikachu!”
"I'm done with all the official stuff, so I think I can sneak out for a few minutes. Hide with me?”
She nods. “Where?”
He presses a button and a set of elevator doors ping open. "I know somewhere."
Somewhere, it turns out, is the roof. The door at the top of the stairwell is marked closed, but Ash leads her through it anyway. A cool breeze hits her, and Misty gets goosebumps, but maybe that's the stars and Ash's hand on her arm. She knows that she has it bad. She can't decide if the night sky or Ash's eyes shine brighter.
"Are we allowed up here?" Misty asks.
Ash dodges her question. He leads Misty to a small viewing platform, and she draws in a breath, taking in the city twinkling below them. “Pretty nice, huh?” he says.
“It’s so beautiful,” she says, leaning against the railing for a better view. “We're not gonna get in trouble, are we?"
"It's fine. I've got permission."
"From who?" Misty narrows her eyes. "You just happened to get permission to come up here on the off chance you wanted to?"
"Will you stop worrying and just enjoy this?"
Misty smiles. "Okay. But if Officer Jenny catches us, I'm blaming you."
"Deal," Ash says. He looks out over the railing and takes a breath. “Thanks for coming with me, by the way. If I had to give one more commentary on my battle technique, I was gonna lose it.”
“You love bragging about your battle techniques.”
“Maybe I want a break sometimes.”
“Since when?”
“Since now! I don’t know.” Ash rubs the back of his neck, then turns, settling down on one of the wide wooden steps leading up to the platform. “Wanna sit?”
"Sure," Misty says, and takes a seat beside him.
"Pika! Pikachupi chaaa, Pikachu!"
“What?” Ash says. “Now?”
“Pika!” Pikachu says before headbutting Ash's thigh and taking off to explore the roof.
“Traitor,” Ash mutters.
“What did Pikachu say?” Misty says.
“Uh. Nothing!” He twists his fingers together. He almost seems nervous. “This is nice! Catching up. The weekend went so fast last time when you…” Ash gives a small cough. “When you visited my mom’s place.”
When I kissed you, she wants to say. The memory of it makes her shiver.
"Are you cold?" Ash asks.
"Oh. No,” Misty protests. “I'm—"
"Here."
He takes off his jacket and wraps it around her shoulders. It's warm. It smells like him. She pulls the tighter around herself like it’s the embrace she’s been longing for so long.
"Thank you," she says, so softly that Ash frowns at her.
"Is something bothering you? You seem kinda quiet. Does my jacket smell weird or something?"
Misty laughs softly. "Nothing's bothering me. Really. I think I'm just feeling nostalgic. Sitting under the stars with you..."
"It's great, isn't it? Just like old times!"
"Yeah!"
"Though if it was really like old times you'd be yelling at me for building the campfire wrong."
"Only because you would be doing it wrong," Misty sing-songs.
"Would not!"
"Would too!"
They laugh together, and Misty knows that there's no reason to be nervous. It's just her best friend, who she's been through so much with. It's just Ash. She dares to shuffle a little nearer, closing the few inches between their arms, and leaning against Ash. He freezes for a moment, and then she feels him relax too.
"I miss those days," she murmurs, voice barely more than a whisper.
"Me too," Ash says. "Feels weird, huh? To be all grown up?"
"You?" Misty snorts. "Never."
"Hey! I've come a long way from that kid from Pallet Town."
"Did you learn how to read maps yet?”
“I’ll take that jacket back, you know."
"You will not!"
Ash turns his head to look at her, and his grin falters into something softer. They're so, so close. It takes her breath away. What would he do if she kissed him again, exactly like this? It would make a perfect scene in a movie, wouldn't it? The two of them, with the stars above them and the city down below.
"Hey, Ash?" Misty murmurs.
"Uh...yeah?"
"I’m really proud of you, you know."
Ash blinks, and then he nods. “I'm proud of you too."
"Me?" Misty asks. "What have I done? I've been in the same place for years."
"No, you haven’t. You might be in the same city, but your gym's a million times better than when I first visited. You’re competing in tournaments. You’ve got plans. You work so hard, Misty, and that’s always made me want to work hard too."
Misty smiles. Beneath the bickering and months of being apart, they're always motivating each other. It’s probably one of the things she loves most about Ash. The way he never gives up.
“You never needed me to encourage you,” she says. “Nothing was ever gonna stop you.”
“That’s not true. There’s no way I could’ve done this on my own. It meant a lot that you were always there.” Ash leans back and looks up at the stars. “It really was incredible in that stadium, you know,” he says. “There were so many people cheering my name. My mom was there, and Brock and Professor Oak and so many friends that I’ve made on my journey.”
“Pikachu!” Pikachu calls across from somewhere across the roof.
“And Pikachu, of course!” Ash adds. “And all my Pokémon."
"It sounds incredible."
"It was! It was one of the best days of my life. But I realised when I was standing there, that I'd always imagined it differently. I'd always imagined you there with me."
Misty bites her lip. "I'm so sorry, Ash. I wanted to be there so badly. But the gym—"
"I get it," Ash says. "You're busy. I'm busy. And that's always worked for us, but…"
Misty holds her breath. “But what?”
“But when you called me that night, I spent the whole after-party wishing that we’d for talked longer. And I realised that I want you to be there next time, and I don’t just mean to cheer me on. I want you to be there for everything. And I want to be there for you too. I don’t want to spend our whole lives missing each other, Mist. I want...” Ash fumbles, like he's struggling to find the right words. "I want..."
“Me?” Misty dares to whisper.
"Yeah," Ash says softly. “You.”
A wave of warmth crashes against Misty’s chest. Ash wants her. She’s dreamed of this for so long that she’s speechless.
“I’m not good at this stuff,” Ash says. “And I know I’ll have to leave again, but...but I want to come back to you. Or I want to take you with me sometimes. I think about you so much that it makes my head hurt, and unless I'm reading this totally wrong, then I think you care about me too, so...”
He reaches out and touches her cheek, thumb brushing over hot tears. She realises, then, that she's crying. But there's no way to hide it. No way to stop.
"You're not sad, are you?" Ash asks. "Because if I upset you, then…"
Misty laughs. He's such an idiot. Her idiot.
"My favourite person in the world just told me how he feels about me," she says. "This is the worst day of my life."
"Favourite? Who, me?"
"Don't let it go to your head," she says warmly. Then falls into his arms like she belongs there. Maybe she does. His arms wrap around her back, and it feels like where she's meant to be.
"I love you, Ash Ketchum," she says. "I've loved you for so long. And I can’t believe you—"
She can’t believe this is real. Ash—her Ash. The boy with the warmest eyes and the kindest heart. He—
Misty leans back. “Just so we're clear. You like me too, right? As in, romantically?"
“Yes! That's what I'm trying to say."
"Well, you didn't say it yet."
"I was getting to it! It was implied.”
“Well, you can hardly blame me for asking! Imagine how embarrassed I’d be if I got it wrong.”
Ash touches her cheek again, and all her worries melt away.
“I love you," he says. "And you're so beautiful. Not that that's the only reason I like you or anything, but having a really pretty girlfriend is a great bonus! Wait, you are my girlfriend now, right? I'm not sure how this works, but—"
Misty grips his hand and tugs him close. "You never did know when to shut up."
And before he can say anything else, she kisses him.
This time it’s not for luck. She’s not risking everything, and hoping that Ash will understand. She kisses him because she can. Because Ash loves her, and she loves him, and she's waited for this moment her whole life.
They’re still holding hands when they go back to the party. They take their time first, treasuring the peaceful moment and the warmth of each other's lips in the cool night air. (They do have a lot of years to make up for.)
"Is it too soon to tell your mom?' Misty asks. “Do you think she’ll be okay with it?”
"Okay with it?” Ash repeats as they pause to look for her. “She's been telling me how nice and pretty you are for the last ten years. I think she likes you better than me."
"Ash! Misty!" A voice shouts and they turn to see Brock charging towards them. "Are you two—" he points to their hands and his lip trembles. "Did you actually—"
"Hey, Brock." Misty grins. "I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Ash. You might have heard of him already. He's kind of a big deal."
"You guys!" Brock wails, shedding actual tears. He cups his hands to his mouth and shouts across the room. "Tracey! It happened!"
"Is he happy for us or distraught because he's still single?" Misty whispers.
Ash shrugs. "Both?" he guesses.
"Well, it's about time," Tracey says when he joins them.
"Pikachu!"
Brock’s still weeping. He's making enough of a scene that people are staring. Misty's secretly thrilled that everyone will know. She wants to tell the whole world that Ash is hers.
The road ahead might be uncertain. There'll be bumps and forks and lonely nights apart. But Misty's been longing to take this journey for years. And as long as Ash is there, she'll follow.
Brock and Tracey pull them in for a clumsy group hug, and Misty beams. She can't stop smiling.
Ash isn't the only one whose childhood dreams came true tonight.