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Regret.
Misty had felt it before—more times than she liked to admit—but she had never been one to regret what she said.
Why should she? Her mother never taught her to back down, never raised her to be the kind of person who swallowed her words. If you had something to say, you said it. That was how Misty lived. That was how she fought.
And yet… After her argument with Austin that morning—after hours of waiting for him to come back and finding nothing but silence in return—regret was all she felt.
Ash Ketchum.
No—she refused to call him Ash. He had always been Austin to her, the person who had been there for her, the one who had gone out of his way to help her and never asked for anything in return. And yet, when he had finally needed something from her—just a little patience, a little understanding—she had demanded answers like he was beneath her. Like she had the right to own his truth. Now, with every passing hour that he didn't come back, the silence grew louder. She had spent so much of her journey alone. Even when she had her sisters, even when she had Pokémon, even when she had a dream to chase, she had always felt like she was on her own. But now, when she was closer than ever to achieving that dream, she had thrown away the one friendship that made it possible.
And for what?
Because she had let her pride get in the way? Because she had let her temper run her mouth? Misty let out a heavy sigh, staring at the half-empty pools of the Cerulean Gym.
"Hey."
A voice broke through her thoughts, and Misty turned to see Meowtholomew making his way toward her, balancing a tray of sandwiches in his tiny paws.
A trench coat. A fedora. Whiskers twitching with every step. The guy was a complete weirdo. The first time she saw him, she had nearly burst out laughing. A tiny man with cat-like whiskers, dressed like some shady street informant, talking with an accent straight out of a detective movie? Come on.
But apparently, according to him, he had a rare genetic condition from being bitten by a radioactive Meowth.
Misty hadn't believed a word of it. But Austin hadn't made a big fuss about it, so she didn't say anything either.
"You should eat somethin'," Meowth said, hopping up onto the bench beside her and setting the tray down.
"I'm not hungry."
Meowth shrugged, not pushing it. "Alright, but Boss Daisy told me ta tell ya—no tournament today. She wants ya ta rest. Eat somethin'. Get ya head straight."
Misty sighed. "Yeah… that's probably for the best."
She wasn't in any state to battle right now. Not with him still gone. Still, just to stop Meowth from nagging, she picked up one of the sandwiches and took a small bite. Then she pushed the rest toward him. "You and your friends can have the rest."
Meowth blinked. "Oh—uh, thanks!" His whiskers twitched in surprise, but he reached for a sandwich anyway.
Then he stopped.
His sharp little eyes narrowed.
"Somethin's buggin' ya."
Misty tensed slightly. "It's nothing."
Meowth snorted. "Kid, when people say it's nothin', it's usually somethin'."
Misty hesitated, then exhaled, gripping the bench beneath her. "...Have you ever felt bad about something you said?"
Meowth tilted his head, thinking.
Then he grinned, sharp and knowing. "Course I have. That's the blessin' of talkin', ain't it?"
Misty frowned. "Blessing?"
"Yeah," Meowth said, gesturing with a sandwich like he was giving some great speech. "Ta be able ta say somethin'—ta speak, ta be understood—ta be heard? That's a blessin'."
He leaned back slightly, flicking the brim of his fedora.
"When I was just a scrawny little runt, I taught myself how ta walk like a human, how ta talk like a human. And ya know what happened?"
Misty stayed quiet.
Meowth's grin didn't fade.
"They called me a freak."
Misty's stomach twisted.
"But," Meowth continued, waving a paw, "through speakin', I found a place. Through speakin', I found people who listened. And that's all that really matters."
He glanced at her, eyes sharper now. "Things only happen when ya say somethin'. Good or bad, it don't matter. The world don't move unless ya speak up. And if ya don't like what ya said?" He smirked. "Well, lucky for you—ya still got your tongue, don'tcha?"
Misty's breath hitched slightly. She didn't answer at first, just stared down at her hands.
"...Thanks."
Meowth shrugged like it was nothing. "No problem."
He grabbed the tray of sandwiches and hopped off the bench.
"I'll be takin' these back ta Jessie and James. You, uh…" He tilted his head. "Ya figure out what ya gotta do yet?"
Misty clenched her fists.
Yeah, she did.
Meowth smirked, already turning away. "Good."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Austin sat in front of the Pokémon Center's communication room, watching as the screen flickered before settling on Nurse Joy's familiar face.
"Nice to see you finally called," Joy said, arms crossed. "Your Rattata and Spearow were getting restless."
Austin winced. "Yeah… sorry about that. Things got a little busy on my end. Figured it was easier for them to stay with you while they recovered—at least long enough that they wouldn't draw suspicion."
"Of course, the mysterious hero has to hide his identity," Nurse Joy teased, a knowing smirk on her lips. Then her expression shifted, more serious. "But I'll have you know that Spearow was extremely aggressive. We had to keep him separated from the other patients. He even injured some of the Chansey nurses."
Austin winced again, this time deeper. "Damn. I—I'm really sorry about that. I'll make it up to them. I'll give Spearow a… stern talking to."
"Mmm-hmm. You do that." Nurse Joy didn't sound convinced. Then her gaze softened. "Rattata, on the other hand, was an absolute sweetheart. A joy to have around."
"That sounds like her. How are they both doing?"
"I'll send you their full medical reports—both a detailed and simplified version. Thought you'd appreciate not having to wade through the jargon."
Austin exhaled in relief. "You have no idea how much I appreciate that."
"Rattata has made a strong recovery," Joy continued. "No complications. The only thing left is some fur regrowth, but that's normal. I'd recommend a few more days of rest before she undergoes any serious battling."
Austin nodded. That was a weight off his chest. His little lady was back, just needed a little more time.
"Now… about Spearow."
"His case is a little more… interesting."
"Interesting how?"
Nurse Joy paused, choosing her words carefully. "Well, physically, Spearow's injuries weren't the main concern. He didn't have severe external wounds. The real problem was… mental."
"How so?"
"Think of it like this," Joy said, adjusting the camera slightly. "Imagine a professional athlete—someone at their peak—suddenly getting bedridden for months, maybe even a year. Their muscles weaken, their coordination deteriorates, and even though they remember how to move, their body just… doesn't respond the same way anymore. They have to relearn everything—from balance to endurance, from reflexes to precision. And that process? It's frustrating. Maddening, even."
Austin's hands tightened into fists.
"Spearow's going through something similar. His body is strong—stronger than it's ever been. But his instincts haven't caught up."
"...I am not following?"
"Spearow still thinks he's the same as before, but with his new size, weight, and muscle structure, his old instincts just don't work."
"Give me examples."
Nurse Joy nodded. "For starters, his flight mechanics are completely off. His wingspan hasn't adjusted to his new weight, so he keeps trying to take off the way a normal Spearow would—but his heavier frame means he can't generate the same lift. He goes up but loses stability, which makes him crash. Hard."
Austin grimaced.
"Due to this, he gets frustrated, and that frustration turns to anger. And that's why he attacked the Chansey nurses when they tried to calm him down. He doesn't understand what's happening to him. His self-perception and reality aren't lining up, and it's making him angry at everything."
Austin let that sink in.
"Right. Forget the stern talking to. I need to actually help him."
"That would be best," Joy agreed.
"Alright. I'll take care of it. And I'll make it up to the Chansey nurses. How about I send you some money? Buy them all something they like—as an apology from both Spearow and me."
"I think they'd appreciate that."
Then the pink-haired woman paused, grinning mischievously.
"Buuuut…"
"What?"
"What do I get?"
Austin blinked. "What?"
"C'mon, kid. I was the one who fixed your Pokémon. Don't I get somethin' too?"
Austin deadpanned. "You do realize you're asking a ten-year-old for money, right?"
Nurse Joy waved a dismissive hand. "Let's just say I'm preparing you for the real world. Being a successful trainer means you'll attract all kinds of gold-digging bugs. I'm just giving you practice."
"Uh-huh. And in this practice scenario, what kind of bug are you?"
Nurse Joy flipped her hair dramatically. "Obviously, the beautiful kind."
Austin snorted. "Right. Should've known."
Both of them laughed. After a moment, Joy leaned forward slightly. "Jokes aside, what have you been up to? You seem… different."
Austin blinked, caught off guard. He hadn't expected to be this comfortable talking to an adult. Most of the time, he felt like he was walking on eggshells, like he had to act a certain way to avoid suspicion. But Nurse Joy? She felt safe. Like he could actually talk to her.
Still, he hesitated. "...That's a long story."
"Summarized version, then."
Austin sweatdropped. "Figures."
He leaned back, gathering his thoughts.
"Alright… here goes."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
By the time Austin finally returned to the Cerulean City Gym, the sky was painted in deep shades of blue, the streets bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. The long day had drained every ounce of energy he had—a meeting with Professor Oak about the Dragon Rage Magikarp, a conversation with Delia, and now this.
No rest for the wicked, huh?
He pushed open the door, stepping inside quietly, Pikachu curled up and fast asleep in his arms. The scent of something warm and inviting hit him instantly, mingling with the faint hum of the night. Across the room, Misty sat at the dinner table, staring down at a pot in front of her, her fingers tapping against the wooden surface.
The moment she saw him, her head snapped up.
"A…Austin." She stood up abruptly, like she had been waiting for hours.
Austin held up a hand, motioning for silence. "Shh."
Misty blinked in confusion until she noticed the tiny yellow lump snoozing in Austin's arms, his ears twitching slightly.
"I should take him to bed first," Austin murmured.
"And then… can we talk?"
"Sure."
A few minutes later, Austin returned, his shoulders feeling lighter without Pikachu's weight. He took a seat across from Misty at the table, stretching out his sore arms.
"Pikachu's out like he worked a full-time construction job today."
Misty smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah."
A moment of awkward silence settled between them.
"…Did you eat anything yet?"
"Not really."
Misty nodded, reaching for the pot in front of her. "I made some pasta," she said, removing the lid.
The moment she did, a wave of rich, savory aroma filled the air. Steam curled from the pot, carrying the scent of perfectly cooked noodles tossed in a creamy, herb-infused sauce. Small bits of diced tomatoes and basil glistened under the warm light, blending together in a way that made Austin's stomach immediately remind him of how little he had eaten that day.
"I could eat."
He grabbed the ladle, scooping a portion onto his plate. The first bite was heaven. The pasta was soft but firm, coated in a velvety sauce that carried just the right balance of garlic, butter, and fresh herbs. Each bite melted against his tongue, the flavors lingering long after he swallowed.
"…Damn, Misty," he muttered, barely pausing before taking another bite. "This is really good."
A small, almost shy smile flickered across her lips. "Thanks."
"…And I'm sorry."
Austin paused mid-bite, glancing up.
"For what?" he asked, swallowing.
"For… this morning," Misty admitted. "I—" She exhaled, shaking her head. "That was wrong of me."
"Misty, anyone in your position would've asked questions. It's normal."
"But it wasn't just the questions," she said quickly. "It was how I said it. The way I demanded answers from you like I was—" She stopped herself, her throat clenching. She exhaled, looking down. "I'm not your boss," she whispered. "You don't owe me anything. And I was wrong to act like I did."
Austin stared at her for a moment before sighing. "…Oh yeah, don't worry about that. I kinda forgot already."
Misty jerked her head up. "You—what?"
"I had a lot of stuff to do today. Guess it took me longer than I realized." He picked up his fork again. "How'd the tournament go today?"
"…We, uh. We canceled it."
"…Why?"
"We were too… worried about you."
The words settled heavily between them.
"I'm sorry for worrying you."
Misty didn't respond right away, just nodded, staring down at the table.
For a while, they just sat there, eating in comfortable silence. Then, Misty cleared her throat. "So… what were you doing today?"
"Mostly just talking to Professor Oak about the Dragon Rage Magikarp project. He and his team will be coming by tomorrow afternoon to do some science stuff."
Misty raised an eyebrow. "Science stuff?"
Austin gave her a flat look. "Do I look like a scientist?"
Misty giggled. "Fair enough. The professor's team won't get in the way of the tournament, right?"
Austin shook his head. "Nope. Oak assured me they'll stay out of the way."
"…Then why do you look so tense?"
"Because there's… someone tagging along with them."
Misty tilted her head. "Who?"
Austin hesitated, then exhaled.
"…Delia Ketchum. My mom."
"Wait, is she also a scientist?"
Austin snorted. "No. She runs a restaurant. But she wanted to spend the weekend with me, so I was wondering if—" He hesitated. "—if there's no issue, can she stay here with us?"
"Of course she can stay! Daisy and the others will love having her here!"
Austin raised an eyebrow. "That was quick."
Misty fumbled slightly, suddenly flustered. "I—I mean, it's only polite! Besides, I don't mind cooking for the weekend."
"Well," he said casually, "you do make a mean pasta."
Misty's entire face turned red. She looked down, pressing her hands against her cheeks, letting out a tiny, muffled squeal.
Austin's brain short-circuited.
Wait. Wait. Is Misty—?
He took another bite, mentally processing.
…Don't tell me she's trying to impress my mom.
Another bite.
…Don't tell me she's developed a crush on me.
Another bite.
…Fuck. Arceus, please, I'm begging you—don't throw anything worse at me.
His plate suddenly cracked. Austin's entire soul left his body.
Great. I just jinxed it. He sighed, rubbing his temples. Austin had no idea just how much insanity was waiting for him next.