Jujitsu

The Pokémon Jujitsu Academy. It was a catchy name, she had to admit, even if she'd yet to see any actual jujitsu in the time she and her friends had been here. Their methods were…unusual, to say the least. Though in her eyes, that was putting it kindly – for the words Misty Waterflower was thinking presently were nothing short of obscene.

"Get it off, get it off, get it off!" the mortified thirteen-year-old shrieked. With great effort, a number of the dojo's students carefully tore off the thick, gooey ball of spinarak web her face was trapped in.

"Misty, whatever's the matter?" the leader of the class asked.

"You call that a beauty treatment?!" she bellowed. "I could barely breathe in there! And I HATE bugs, you hear me?! HATE HATE HATE them!"

The little spinarak on the table curled in its arachnoid legs in fright as Misty performed a series of violent shivers.

"I can see why you only give this course once a year," she grumbled. "Oh, you'll make me look like a movie star, huh? Well, I'd like to see that pampered pansy Fiorello Cappuccino give this a shot!"

"Misty…" sighed the bewildered woman.

"Oh, and Daisy, too! Imagine High Speed Hannah herself sitting for the Pokémon Jujitsu Academy's 'special spinarak face coffin'? Ha, that'd be the day!"

"Misty, please, calm down!" the instructor tried again. Thankfully, this time seemed to do the trick, as the young redhead suddenly looked rather ashamed.

"Uhh…" she stammered, "s-sorry, I, I just…"

There were tears in her eyes, though were they from rage, upset, trauma or sheer embarrassment, Misty could not be sure. She wiped them clean and retook her seat at the table (albeit shuffling it noticeably back from the cringing spinarak).

"No, we're sorry, Misty," the woman said. "This class isn't for everyone, and you're right in saying that's why we only hold it once a year. Perhaps something a little more restful would appeal to you more."

The sheepish teen tugged at the baby blue jumpsuit the course had required she adorn. As she'd remarked on earlier, it wasn't often she wore something so long and baggy.

"I don't know," she said feebly. "I'm not sure the beauty course is really my thing, after all. Is it too late to join the battle class with Ash? Or even what Brock was doing sounded pretty interesting…"

At that moment, the sensei of the dojo, an aged but surprisingly agile man whom they knew only as Teacher, glided into the room with virtually silent footfalls.

"Sit, my students," he calmly said when the room rose to its feet to greet him. "Misty, I wonder if you might come with me?"

Misty stood up with more urgency then she had expected. "Me?" she gasped on an inhale. "Um, okay…"

She followed the stoic Teacher quietly out of the room and along a rustic wooden corridor. The hall eventually transitioned into a tunnel of sorts, one with diamond-shaped holes right along the length of both walls. Looking to her right, Misty could see the back yard of the dojo, where Brock and his pineco were hard at work bursting balloons with expertly aimed Spikes attacks (well, the latter was, anyway. The former looked decidedly charred and worn out; she presumed Pineco's exploding habit was to thank for that). Out of the opposite window was the courtyard, the main site of the academy's pokémon battles, and she immediately picked out her best friend in the group to the side of the battlefield. To her immense surprise, Ash's eyes, previously riveted to the battle before him, met hers at that exact second. His cheerful waving in the distance caused the young girl to blush – something that did not go unnoticed by the sensei.

"Where are we going?" she asked to dispel the tension.

"There is a particular exercise that I would like you to try," he answered. "We use it as a rite of passage for our new initiates, but in your case I just think you'd greatly benefit from its teachings."

"It doesn't involve more b-bugs, does it?" Misty shuddered.

He chuckled. "No, no, Misty, you're quite safe, I assure you."

"But…why me?"

"My decision to place you in this group was not random. Beauty is a part of the course, as you said, but only a small part, really. The main focus is maintaining a good overall health, both physically and mentally, which, of course, is at the core of being the best one can be."

"So, you're saying I'm unhealthy?" she squeaked, slightly affronted.

The sensei waved his hands in front of him. "Oh, not at all, dear girl, not at all!" They stopped before a traditional sliding door at the end of the tunnel. "In truth, from the moment you first arrived at this dojo, I sensed that something was deeply troubling you – holding you back, if you will. In the Pokémon Jujitsu Academy, we believe that adversity must be conquered, fear must be faced, doubt must be extinguished, before a person can walk their true path in life. This is why I have brought you here, Misty: to help you turn weakness into strength."

Misty was not sure what to make of all this information. It made sense, in theory, what he was saying…but when applied to her, she couldn't help but draw a blank. Something was troubling her? Holding her back, even? There was one thing, now she thought about it. But she'd been so careful, took every step to cover it; surely even they couldn't have picked up on that…!

"Come along, now," Teacher beckoned as he opened the door. Inside, the room was but a hollow square not unlike a church confessional, with no windows and a fine wooden grid that partitioned the diminutive space down the middle. Misty watched her guide shuffle across to the opposite side of the room by lifting up the grid at the corner; once it fell back down, all she could see of him was a vaguely human-shaped silhouette.

"Wh-What exactly is this about?" she spoke up, not entirely comfortable.

"It's about bringing you focus, and allowing you to see clearly that which you have pushed from your mind's eye," he said enigmatically. "In other words, just a few questions and a little meditation, that's all."

Misty chose not to answer, somehow more confused now than she had been to start with.

"Okay, Ariados, when you're ready, give us your Sweet Scent."

"WHAT?!" The girl's hair stood on end. "I thought you said there were no bugs here! LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT RIGHT N-"

Another silhouette appeared behind the partition, and from its spider-like shape spewed a pinkish, sparkling vapour that silenced Misty's screeching in an instant. Though reluctantly at first, she gently inhaled the sweet-smelling substance and felt herself softening, loosening up to a state of pure relaxation.

"Good," Teacher whispered. "Now, close your eyes, and try to clear your mind."

Misty did as she was told, kneeling down on the mat at her feet.

"Picture yourself in a long, dark corridor," his words echoed in her head. For some reason, the first image that came to her was of the hallways of her family's gym. "There are doors on either side, all the way along, and you know what is behind each and every one of them."

She could certainly envisage that. Daisy's room, Violet's, Lily's, the store cupboard, the guest room, the living room on the far side…

"All except one. It's dead ahead, at the very end of the corridor."

Adhering to Misty's chosen structure, this would be her own bedroom. She didn't understand. Of course she knew what was behind that door!

"Walk to the door,"the man continued. "It creaks open before you, but do not enter yet."

In her mind, Misty stood about a metre from her doorway. She trembled as the flaked white wood swung inwards, stopping when it brushed the end of her bed. Despite knowing its contents from memory, the entire space was an all-consuming black, and not even the light from the corridor passed across the threshold.

"What do you see?" asked Teacher.

"Nothing," she murmured. "There's…wait."

In the centre of the nothingness, the white outline of a person appeared. It simply stood there, inert and unmoving, even after Misty gasped in alarm.

"What is that?!" she cried aloud in her trance.

"Whatever your heart fears most," he said. "The choice is yours, Misty. You can close the door now and walk away…or, you can step inside and learn how to overcome your weakness."

Uneasy as she was, she knew that she could not fight her swelling curiosity. The moment she felt her hovering right foot land on the carpet within the room, the figure in her path began to stir.

"Hello? Anyone there?"

Misty recognised the voice straight away. "Ash?"

"Misty? Is that you?"

"Ash," Teacher mused. "How interesting."

"What the…" she uttered. "What is Ash doing here? And why can't I see him?"

"The same reason he cannot see you. You both live in the shadow of Denial."

Denial? Misty thought. She'd certainly heard that word a lot before. And almost never was it welcome. But in this situation, she just had no idea.

"Huh?" she said. "What does that mean? I thought you said I'd see what I fear most! None of this makes any sense."

The Ash shape continued to call out her name, and reached out with its 'hands' in front of it, but Misty stood far enough away that its touch eluded her. Amongst whatever was going on already, she didn't want to chance anything weirder happening.

"Perhaps the mirror will let you see things more clearly," Teacher's voice penetrated through her mental conjurations.

She frowned. "Mirror? What mirror? I don't see anyth-"

To the right of the doorframe, a shimmer of light caught the redhead's eye. She looked around to find a gold-trimmed antique mirror mounted at head height on the wall, one she could have sworn was not there before. Shrugging, she stepped cautiously up to its reflective surface and stared blankly at herself. For a second or two, there was nothing. Then, without warning…

"What happened to my bike?! You happened to my bike, you little loser!"

It seemed to originate from the glass itself. A disembodied quote, with no visual or contextual reminder whatsoever, but she remembered the moment with such clarity. One of her first interactions with Ash.

"What are you following us for?"

"M-My bike! I'm holding you responsible f-for my bike!"

Another callback – to the same day, no less. She didn't know what was going on, but before she had a moment to ruminate, a tidal wave of subsequent snippets sent her sloshing uncontrollably down memory lane:

"I've never known anyone like him. He really does love pokémon."

"Oh, y-you've got it all wrong. I'd never get involved with a little kid like him. I prefer the more mature, intellectual type."

"Don't you know that love is the most important thing in the whole world?"

"Ash! What are you gonna do, just stand there and let him beat ya?!"

The fragments flowed in chronological order, creeping further and further towards the present:

"Imagine: me, Ash's girlfriend. It's totally ridiculous!"

"He's a boy and he's my friend, but he's NOT my boyfriend!"

And with the last one, everything finally clicked into place:

"And Ash is never really alone because he's got…me…"

Misty tore her face away from the mirror and jerked her head back around to where the silhouette of Ash was. His transparent arms were still flailing helplessly.

"Mist, where are you?" he called out. "I don't understand…"

"Understand this!" she yelled. With a swift windup, she brought her foot forward and delivered a mean kick to the ghostly Ash's groin.

"YOOOOOOW!" howled the shape as it crumpled to the floor. The moment of contact revealed all of his features, from the tattered blue jacket to the red cap and unkempt bangs. Misty's eyes shot open, whereupon the surreal scene dissolved into thin air and the sight of the dark square room returned.

"Welcome back," smiled Teacher behind the screen, as if nothing had happened.

Misty snatched the grid upwards. "What the heck was that?!" She jumped when Ariados's beady eyes met hers. "Did you drug me or something?!"

"Of course not!" Teacher insisted. "The Sweet Scent was just to calm you down…"

"That was the furthest thing from calm! I can't believe you'd put those kinds of ideas in my head like that!"

He sat up. "I didn't put anything in your head, Misty," he explained. "The meditation was meant to unlock your inner thoughts and help you come to terms with them. Everything you experienced just now has been on your mind all along."

"I…" Misty did not know how to respond to that. "W-Well, it's still not true! I don't like Ash that way, and that's final!"

"Now, now," he calmly said. "We don't judge in this dojo. The first step of overcoming weakness is admitting that it exists."

"And that's another thing!" she snapped, her face red as a shuckle shell. "Even if I…did feel that way – which I don't! – how is that a weakness?! It's something to fight for, something that keeps you going even in the hardest times! Um…so I've heard."

Teacher smiled again. "You're absolutely right. It can be all of those things and more. But only if you truly believe that. I see your insecurity, Misty. You feel that you're not good enough, that you let yourself and others down, that you're doomed to yearn for this boy's affection without hope of him ever reciprocating. These worries are what weaken you, and in time they could consume you."

"They could?" Misty queried, temporarily forgetting she was supposed to be feigning ignorance.

"Yes. But your weakness can also become strength. That is the core teaching of the Pokémon Jujitsu Academy. Do not lose yourself to your self-doubt, young lady. I've helped you take the first step; the rest is up to you."

The silence thereafter rang out like a church bell. Misty absorbed every word, and though it caused her no end of embarrassment, she saw little sense in trying to deny things now. A man she'd only just met had deciphered her feelings better than she'd ever managed to…and this definitely gave her a lot to think about.

Right now, however, she didn't want to think. She wanted to act.

"Ash is not my weakness," she said with total confidence. "He's my best friend, the greatest thing that's ever happened to me…and I'm gonna prove it."

Teacher was powerless to stop the resolute girl tearing out of the room, down the tunnel and straight outside to the courtyard. In a matter of seconds, she had made her way right over to the bemused friend in question.

"Misty!" Ash cried. "How's the beauty thing going?"

"Come with me," she demanded. "We're battling. Now."

"Uhh, okay?" he gulped, allowing her to lead him by the hand to a quiet spot of the yard.

"Whoooa…" Ash puffed, his eyes blinking in disbelief.

The three-on-three match was over in minutes, a total clean sweep by Misty. In just thirty-eight seconds, Staryu had pinned Ash's totodile. The second round went much the same, and the third after that. Ash had never seen Misty and her pokémon move so fast – not even his obligatory teasing put her off!

"What…was that?" he said to thin air.

"I'll tell you what it was," Misty giggled with a newfound giddiness. "An easy victory for Misty! You need to work on your game, Mr. Pokémon Master."

"I, er…"

Without another word, the smug redhead began to stroll away towards the dojo. Her heart was beating out of her chest, but he did not need to know that. The look on his face had been more than worth it. In the diamond-windowed tunnel, a silent spectator gave a stiff nod of his head, satisfied with a job well done.

"Excellent."

"Hey!" Ash shouted after her. "Wait a minute! Where did that come from?"

"I'm awesome, Ash. Didn't you know?" Misty teased as she walked on.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed. "It's gotta be those proteins or whatever they said they were giving you. What exactly did you do in that beauty class, anyway?"

The question made her break out in a grin far too quickly for her to stop herself. She stopped in place, spun around on her heel, and with a cheeky wink, leant over to flick her flummoxed friend on the nose.

"Guess you'll never know."