A loud thud announced the victory before anyone had time to state the obvious. Ren, an even tempered youth with pale blonde shoulder-length hair and a lop-sided grin nodded in concession as he withdrew his final Pokemon. His opponent did likewise, happy that the other boy, a year or two younger, showed such maturity. As the pale red glow receded into the shiny little ball Ash was holding, he smirked and made his trademark two fingered salute. His thunder was slightly stolen by a disgusted snort.

"Act your age, jerk," Misty said in exaggerated annoyance. Ash smiled at her endearing way of verbally kicking his feet out from under him. A skill she had acquired in the past few years, which complemented his newfound ability to see it for what it was.

"Time enough for that when I'm old and dying, Mist'. Wasted too much on it already," he winked at her, and flashed his most charming smile. She rolled her eyes.

"You should spend some time realizing how unimpressive your attempts at being manly are," she retorted.

Ash screamed in a high pitched voice, "but you still owe me a bike!" and he widened his eyes comically, sticking his tongue out as far as possible in imitation of a licking gesture. She frowned with irritation, genuine this time, and mouthed an obscenity at him before turning to the other trainer who was approaching slowly.

"Hey Ren. Nice battle there," commented Misty warmly, as was rewarded with a flash of his distinctive grin. Once, long ago, that smile had won him the attentions of Misty, not to mention a plethora of other women. Misty referred to it now, a little derisively, as 'the lady-killer'. That, however, was water under the bridge along with many things that had transpired in the seven years since Ash had first left Pallet town and written off her cute little bicycle. Misty had loved that goddamn thing. She giggled slightly at the memory and how ridiculous it seemed now.

"Oh Misty, you wound me so!" Ren pouted in a convincing show of hurt feelings, "surely there is no need for cruel sarcasm and spiteful laughter?"

Misty's giggles actually became laughter at this, and Ash added his as well. There was something about that grin coupled with the French accent that made it hard not to laugh when he wanted you to. Even Ash, who viewed him in an uneasy context and hated giving him an inch could not begrudge him this much. The group had met Guillaume Rennes, Ren to his friends, at this very spot a year ago exactly. It was a small courtyard, slightly overgrown and out of the way, in the city of Lachot.

Quite departed from the towering offices, hurrying citizens and near-tangible wall of sound that made Lachot the fluorescent macrocosmic anthill it was, the neglected courtyard was relatively tranquil. It featured an uneven cobbled surface and smooth carved stone edging, disrupted by tree roots here and there, which imparted a sense of how ancient it was, although the reality was much less romantic owing to it being a mere forty years in age, and simply overlooked by a clerical slip-up.

Still for all who entered this refuge, whatever their purpose, it left them with a certain magical feeling, like they were privy to some close-guarded secret. The pale statue of a woman with an urn, missing a few fingers from her left hand and part of her face where a crack had spread and dislodged a sliver of stone, observed the three teenagers stoically. A low flying bird deposited a not-inconsiderable amount of muck onto the rounded shape of the stone urn.

Ash, who was staring off into space rather than pay attention to the others, saw this and snorted in bemusement before returning to the conversation. It seemed to consist of small talk and heavy, insincere flirting between the two. Not much difference to the bird, Ash mused to himself dryly. Ren turned his attention to him suddenly, and for a moment he thought he had said it aloud.

"Where is Brock anyway?" asked Ren, "I was looking forward to our rematch."

Somewhat relieved Ash replied, "Off on another of his little romances. This time he's attached himself to some chick called Alice, 'lives south of here in Siroqe. It's a little village, complete with white picket fences all in rows."

"Mmm, I have heard it mentioned," Ren mumbled before exclaiming, "Alors! But when did this happen? It is recent, no?"

Ash nodded. It had been rather abrupt, really. Two months ago he had announced that he was going to stay for a while to study Pokemon in the area, which effectively meant he was 'chasing skirt' and had found someone worth his time. Alice seemed nice, sure, and had lots of things in common with Brock, but Ash couldn't help resent her a little. She had taken his friend and travel companion from him and it hurt more than he was willing to admit.

Seeing the depressive cloud that seemed to descend over them and having worn out his banter with Misty, Ren decided to cut the annual get-together short and say his goodbyes.

"Well children, it has been fun but I had better take my leave of you," he said in an overly-formal tone, lightening the mood somewhat, "until next year then or whenever we bump into each other before that."

"Be safe, man," Ash advised with genuine concern, feeling that one of them at least would need it. Ren returned the gesture, and exchanged similar sentiments with Misty. Then, all too soon, he was gone leaving Ash and Misty alone both silently wondering what their next move would be.

"So..." Ash began, and stopped short as a heavy deluge unexpectedly began to rain down on both of them.

"Hotel," Misty answered the unasked question and they hurried for cover.

Misty stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a soft white towel, drying her hair with another. Ash looked up from his Pokemon documentary, and blushed slightly before returning to the television. Misty, slightly uncomfortable, dumped her wet clothes in the laundry basket and sat down on the bed, continuing to dry her water-darkened strands. Ash didn't move.

"Your turn, Ash," Misty prompted and was rewarded with a fleeting expression of annoyance and a grumble.

"I'm almost dry anyway," he lied, "and I'm really enjoying this show."

Misty rolled her eyes saying "It's that or I change in front of you, and then I'd have to beat you up for peeping." The poor boy's cheeks reddened further.

"Ok, ok. We can't have that, can we?" he said with a serving of sarcasm, and stood. His shirt made a moist sucking sound as he peeled it off his chest, and he felt a sudden rush of cold over his muscles. Tossing the shirt onto Misty's discarded clothes in the basket, he threw his hat carelessly over his shoulder where it somehow squelched onto his traveling bag. A disgruntled squeak sounded from inside, and a pair of yellow ears pricked up from inside. Misty grinned.

"So that's where you were!" she exclaimed.

"Well it explains that snoring sound I've been hearing all day," grunted Ash as he turned on the taps and closed the door.

Misty idly watched Pikachu emerge from the bag, dislodging the hat that was balanced on his head. He then shook all over, spraying Misty lightly with water, before jumping up onto Ash's bed and padding around in a circle, scratching the covers up to make himself a comfortable resting place. Misty smiled slightly at this, letting her thoughts wander back over the past year.

Seeing Ren today had the unexpected result of opening old wounds and pitching her into the arms of nostalgia. She remembered the first days of meeting him fondly, and her burgeoning crush, then all the tension that had ensued between them both and Ash... what a nightmare, and finally the end to it all when they all agreed to part company. It must have been hard for Brock too, as he was basically unaware of all that was going on, yet he wore the negatives, barely seeing either Ash or Misty for the duration of their visit, and being constantly confused by it all. Misty was glad he had never complained though. After that, they all got the hell out of here, and resumed their meanderings.

They had journeyed through a lot of open country, caught more Pokemon, deepened their friendship and made more enemies. Brock broke his arm in a nasty fall, Ash and Misty shared a kiss, they found a mysterious artifact simply called 'the blue orb', and had it stolen from them before they could determine its effect, if any. Puberty began to work on them, and they were all physically changed to some extent, but their real growth was emotional and mental. Having said that, Misty was amused how immature they could sometimes be.

Then one day they had encountered a disgusting man called Guan, who had made trouble for them at every turn. Unlike Team Rocket, he was unusually cruel and did not rely solely on Pokemon to do his fighting, having knocked one of Ash's teeth out and blackened his eye in a vicious punch. He further proved his sadism by torturing Brock, and some of their creatures, and threatened Misty with things she still shuddered to think upon. She was thankful that he was still rotting in a jail somewhere, presided over by one of the seemingly endless Officer Jenny clones. The damage had been done however, and Ash was never the same with them. She felt he was embarrassed to lose face in front of them, and still a little paranoid about being hit. It was, she thought, something that he would have to work out at one point or another, but she could easily see he still felt shame for being what he must regard as 'cowardly'.

They had all gone back to their respective home towns after that, to visit their families, and reaffirm themselves. Ash was surprised and dour to find that his mother and Professor Oak had moved in together without telling him, but he soon became used to it. Misty had found she was no longer 'the runt' after a giant argument with her sisters, and was offered a place performing in the gym. She declined. Brock, she grinned, Brock jumped into a pink frilly apron and didn't leave the kitchen the entire time. Some people lived for others, which was something she found both admirable and alien.

When the trio finally got back together again, Misty realized that they had all been incredibly changed by the year's events. She had not noticed it happening but it was so apparent after not seeing the boys for so long. Ash hid it well but he was depressed a lot of the time, and prone to long protracted silences, contrasted by his alarming joviality when he indulged in any alcohol (more frequently than she would have liked). Brock seemed normal, even more cheerful than usual, but she felt that he had acquired a self-imposed obliviousness to the group's personal problems as a way of dealing. She herself... Misty sighed. She had become cold. The edges of her heart were icing up, slowly, but with a deadening insistence.

Misty sighed and shook off the dismal thoughts. She was staying in a medium quality hotel with good quality pillows, her best friend, and the world's cutest rat. Things could get a lot worse. In fact, that pillow looked awfully good. Misty marveled at how soft and yielding it was as her head hit it. She closed her eyes, ignoring the damp towel she was still wrapped in, and listened to the steady sound of streaming water from the bathroom. Inevitably she drifted into the sleep she was not too concerned with fighting off.

She opened her eyes a crack and let the soft, buttery curtain of sunshine pour in. A few moments of darkness and light followed, before she said a sad goodbye to sleep and sat up. The realization now dawned on her that she was underneath the covers and, apparently, naked. She instinctively reached for a glass of water, momentarily forgetting where she was. In spite of this, she found the glass, and also a note attached to it in Ash's messy handwriting. Misty squinted at it, and finally made out the words:

You're so predictable )

Gone for stroll. Enjoy your breakfast!!

Lunch – 2:30 Plaza Café. Front desk give you directions.

See ya then! Ps. I didn't peek, honest.

-A

Misty shoved her tangled hair out of her eyes, which she directed to the bedside locker. A plastic-covered croissant and a small tub of yoghurt sat there. She smiled and took a drink of the cool refreshing water. Sighing contentedly she wiped a little of the liquid from her lips and unwrapped the croissant.

Ash was sprawled hedonistically in the chair. His legs as far apart as possible, his arms thrown over the back rest, and his head uplifted watching the clouds pass. He heard the harsh scrape as another of the cast iron chairs found a passenger. He brought his gaze back down to earth, already grinning. Misty looked radiant as she grinned back. He paused for a moment to take her in, as well as the beautiful scenery. A picturesque sky, dotted here and there with rippling clouds that were painfully bright, looked down on the luscious green ferns, antiquated lamp-posts, and light smattering of pedestrians. Misty's straight orange hair was gleaming as it flowed freely from her head and danced off her shoulders. Her eyes, a deeper blue than the sky and more akin to the ocean, twinkled in the sunlight as she stared at him and glanced around at the scenery and menu.

He violently threw himself into a more reasonable sitting position and laughed softly.

"Hey Mist'. Beautiful day, huh?" he said. She grinned and nodded, making a sound of assent.

"Thanks for breakfast, by the way," said Misty. It was Ash's turn to nod and smile.

"Another guest recommended this café to me. It apparently has good food, great coffee, and is really... cheap," he finished with a self-deprecating snort, earning a giggle.

"I'm sure it will be fine. After weeks on the road and getting soaked yesterday anything will..." she said before abruptly halting, "hey! Is that baklava?"

Her eyes desperately followed a passing tray and she rose slightly from her seat, craning her neck. Ash felt a warm tickle in his stomach as he disguised his mirth and observed her antics.

"That'll be baklava then," said Ash as he mimed crossing off an item from an imaginary notepad.

"What?" Misty asked absently, turning her head to him for a moment before resuming her surveillance of the rogue dessert.

Ash caught the eye of a pretty brunette waitress, and returned her polite expression as she approached their table.

"Hi, how are you going?" Ash asked pleasantly. She smiled and took a pen out from behind her ear.

"What will it be?"

"Well about six baklava to start, and then..." he began, but was cut off by a deafening low-pitched wail, apparently coming from a set of sirens mounted on top of a tall pole at the end of the street.

A giant plasma screen mounted on a near by building stopped playing the repetitive reel of advertisements and suddenly showed a harried looking woman in a business suit sitting, hands clasped, behind a burnished wooden desk. Her voice blared out from unseen speakers and echoed around the buildings. Ash could hear slightly offset versions of the same speech from far away, and he realized it was playing in other parts of the city too.

"Citizens of Lachot, this is your mayor speaking. We have recently been informed that in just less than six hours the city will be occupied by a hostile invasion force of unknown origin. Please remain calm. There is no reason for panic. We ask that those wishing to leave the city do so in an orderly and considerate manner. To those who chose to stay, be assured that I and my cabinet will remain, and we shall pursue a peaceful and safe solution. To that end, please proceed to your homes and secure them as much as possible. We advise you to ignore anyone outside and that you remain near your televisions and radios for further updates. Once again, please keep off the streets, remain calm and..." her professional tone broke slightly as she continued, "...and pray. This message will repeat every five minutes from now on."

Ash, Misty, the waitress, and everyone on the streets and in the café stopped in a moment of shocked, terrified silence, broken only by the smashing of crockery as it fell from limp hands. The vibrant colors of the day were instantly leeched away. Ash turned to meet Misty's wide eyes and he opened his mouth to say something, anything, but what words did he have? The silence, all around them, tremendously pregnant with unspoken words lasted just a moment like a terrible soap bubble inexorably thinning itself into oblivion. It burst and the screaming began.

Statuesque people became blurs of activity as they all scurried in different directions. The waitress dropped her pen and notepad, and accidentally knocked misty from her chair as she sprinted out of the café and down the street. Ash immediately jumped up and held his hand out to Misty. She rose and they regarded each other, mutually experiencing the leaden weight in their stomachs. They gathered their belongings mechanically, mutely observing the chaotic tide of people reduced to animals. It was going to get much, much worse. At that moment Ash cursed everyone and everything he could think of.

They had gone and landed themselves in a war.