Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon. What a shocker, right? Nor Detective Conan, nor the one line from a song I can't really remember the name of, but because I'm not selling this, legally, I shouldn't have to put a disclaimer on it not should I?
Sloth was one he showed every day, every morning, when she came into wake him up. It didn't used to be, once upon a time little Ash would be up and out of bed, running around with joy for the day's events, but the teenage years had taken their toll, and he now would sleep deep into the afternoon if he had his way.
Misty did seem to enjoy waking him up, in a sick, cruel sort of way. It started the same every morning, with the typical wake up call, her knocking on the door after she got out of the shower, fully dressed, with no towel to shield her shoulders form the dripping water. She called out, "Wake up, you lazy bum! We've got stuff to do today and we can't do it if you sleep until the afternoon!" This would escalade until she was punching, kicking, screaming, and playing all sorts of pranks so he would roll out of bed, pull on his clothes, and stumble down to the breakfast table, and it wasn't until he was eating his cereal that he was classified as "awake".
Today, he felt particularly lazy, curled upon the bed and keeping his eyes closed while she slammed the pillow over and over into his head, hoping to, "at least hit your dense little head hard enough so there's a medical reason for you sleeping".
But there was a story behind it, so the clock is rolled back to the start of it all, the break of dawn, when the snoozing boy saw the sun creep through his window and rolled away with a moan. He did not want to wake up today, not when the walk had been so long to get home, not when it was a Sunday, and not when Gary and Misty were both going to be there to torture him with insults and physical violence. He would rather sleep the day away and dream that Gary would get eaten by a pokémon, preferably something with big, deadly teeth and a habit of playing with its food. He decided to do this, confirming his decision with the fact that he would be here for the week and he would surely be able to drag his mom away from his mortal enemies to shower her with love. He also decided he had enough food hidden in his room to last for a while. It would be safer to wait out the nightmare.
Her fist rapped against the door, just like always. Wet hair stuck to her shirt and dripped down her back, making her shiver with the chill. She gave her traditional, "Get out of bed lazy butt! We've got a busy day!" Then, she continued, apparently feeling the need to elaborate, "Your mom made up a grocery list. We need to pick up the stuff and I'm not going alone. I'm only here to celebrate your weird Pallet fish festival, so, get up!"
He rolled over, muttering about how his fish festival was not weird and he figured she'd like fish, considering she always smelled like fish (which she didn't, but he figured it was an awfully good insult). Very disobedient, he closed his eyes and began to snore, only to be awoken a few moments later to a sharp yank on his ear and another round of being snarled at to get up, open eyes did not mean he was awake, and he better get his feet on the floor soon or she'd be back.
When the angry hand vanished, he got out of bed, slammed both feet on the floor…then jumped back in bed and fell asleep. Well, not immediately, as he had to tend to certain things. He told Pikachu to feel free to go into the fridge and drink a bottle of ketchup or, if the mouse was up for something healthy, that the apple on the counter was itching to be eaten. After that, he took the risk and fell asleep again, hoping she would give up on waking him and leave him along.
Once again, he was awoken by Misty, this time straddling him and beating his face with a pillow. She was screaming at him, angry, strange words he wasn't sure were human or even native to their planet, and suspected if anger could be personified and speak, these were the sounds that would come forth from its personified mouth. Finally, she climbed of him and dragged him out of bed, satisfied with the thunk he made when he hit the floor. She threw clean clothes at him, underwear and all and marched out the door, sure that now he couldn't possibly fall asleep. She forgot that Ash could do the impossible.
It surprised even Ash that he did manage to fall asleep on the floor. However hard the floor may have been, it was cool and his pile of clothes made such a lovely pillow.
This time she merely attack him with a wild, frightening, warrior princess cry, running across the room and tackling him, punching him in the stomach twice, then backing off, huffing and puffing. She stood in the doorway and waited for him to catch his breath. "Wake up you stupid, stupid ignorant jerk." She scolded firmly. "I told you we have to go shopping I'm not leaving until you're dressed and ready to go!"
Noiselessly, he stood and ripped off his shirt, fourteen year old body with muscles just beginning to grow and raised an eyebrow, challenging her. She didn't move, so he unbuttoned his pants. Still nothing from her part, only crossed arms and an expression that demanded he get on with it. When he slid down the zipper her eyes flicked down to his pants, then immediately back up to his face, barely noticeable if he hadn't been so focused on her reaction. The pants were kicked off, and she blushed, just a bit, at the fact that he had grown. It wasn't until he looped his thumb under the elastic of his boxers that she squealed, shielding her eyes and running off.
With a sleepy yawn, he chuckled and went back to bed, flopping down and waiting for when she'd be back again, next time with ice water and another punch in the gut.
Gluttony was yet another common one. It was also very tiring when he was in the store. From the moment he walked in, his greedy, calloused hands were gripping at shelves and boxes. She slapped him away. He was hungry, having slept long past breakfast thanks to his earlier sin, and his hunger continued, thanks to the furious redhead who was sorting through piles of name brand butter to find something cheap.
"Hey, Misty, is sarcasm a sin?" he asked, grabbing a bolted down plastic bag rack above them and swinging on it. "If it is, I'm pretty sure you're going to hell. Or be reborn as a cricket. Hey, maybe that's the reason you hate bugs! Or maybe in a past life, you were a cricket and you got eaten by a spider. I bet that explains it. Is that what it is? You can tell me if you remember your past life, I won't let on that there's been a flaw in the cycle of reincarnation."
"You know what's a sin?" she asked rhetorically. "Overpriced butter. Market bastards. They know everyone needs butter to fry their damn fish so they raise the prices, damn supply and demand system. I don't even like butter! Not to mention my hatred for black haired brown eyes tan skinned Ash named morons. Can you stop swinging and help?"
"Yup," he said, continuing his swinging.
She sighed, rubbing her temples. "Will you stop swinging and help?"
He beamed. "Nope! But, I can make the world a little better! They've got free samples in the chocolate section, Misty. You know it calls to you! Put the chocolate before the shopping! You don't even like the butter!" He changed his voice so it was ghostly and haunting. "The chocolate loves you, Misty, it wants you like you want a sexy man to sweep you up on a stallion and ride you off into the sunset! Eat the chocolate and it might happen, Misty! Eat the chocolate!"
"Help me find the butter," she ordered, bending forwards. It was that change in angle that made her face light up with uncontrollable joy. "Store brand butter! It's a miracle! I only need two boxes!" She vanished into the shelves, from the middle of her torso up she was surrounded by the yellow substance she was quickly learning to hate, anything beyond that jutting out into the aisle and, unbeknownst to her, making her look like she was shaking her butt at the entire store. "I've almost got it!"
It was at that immensely inappropriate moment Ash moved forward to wrap an arm around her waist, hoisting her into the air, over his shoulder, and carrying her to the chocolate aisle despite her kicking and screaming. He set her down in front of the booth, keeping a firm hold on her ponytail in case she tried to run, giving it a firm yank when she clawed at his hand, and began to nibble on the assorted chocolate samples.
"Ash," she snapped. "I've got shopping to do for your mother and your needs. Another phrase for this is "not my problem". I don't have to do this! It's all out of the kindness of my heart! You're making this hard on me when all I'm trying to do is be a good citizen, yet you insist on being a complete and total asshole! So…stop being an ass and let's go get that bargain brand butter before some fat bitch tries to take it from us!"
"That's not a nice thing to say," Ash scolded, handing her a pierce of dark chocolate. "That's barker's chocolate, so it tastes pretty nasty. It's basically cocoa. Taste it."
"Besides the fact that is says so on the sign, you brilliant genius you, I know my chocolate," she returned, popping the piece inside her mouth. "Huh, it's a good baker's chocolate too. We don't get a lot of nice stuff in this in Cerulean, everything costs a ton and is made with more preservatives than you need to keep a mummy fresh. How much is this stuff? If it's too much for me to buy, just tell me so, not the actual price. I don't need to feel depressed."
"It's pretty cheap, actually. No one buys chocolate around this time of year." He shrugged and helped himself to several of the free samples, all from the same tray clearly marked 'take one'. "It's because of the fish festival, everyone's using their money on fish. Who wants a chocolate dipped anchovy?"
"I'd eat a chocolate dipped anchovy," she defended the imaginary treat, taking a rich piece of milk chocolate in her mouth with a moan. "Oh, you guys imported this from some place real nice. I'd know this brand anywhere. It's my favorite. Would you buy me some, Ash?"
"Well, after that nice breakfast you made me, I don't see why not," he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, wait I'm not going to buy you chocolate because you didn't let me have breakfast. It looks like karma's taking a huge bite out of your ass today! None of this would be a problem if you had just let me sleep. I'm hungry, dammit, and you won't let me eat. I have to live on these little free samples and I'm probably going to have to open a pack of butter in the car and eat that!"
"We're in a grocery store, Ash! There's food everywhere! Why don't you grab some you idiot!" She tugged at him and pointed to the rows of food.
Taking her advice in his fit of rage, he ran to one of the shelves and snatched of a bag of cheese flavored chips. He ripped it open and pulled out a handful, shoving it in his mouth and beginning to speak around the mouthful. He realized a moment later than to get his rant across, he was going to have to swallow first, and did so. "Alright, if that's the way it is then I'm just gonna eat! Right off the shelves! And you can't have any! That's right! I love this bag of chips more than anything in the whole world!"
A tap on his shoulder made Ash spin around face to face with a large, terrifying policeman who looked like he was very much enjoying busting the young lad. The man spoke with a deep voice, cutting through Misty's snigger like a knife through bargain brand butter. "Sir, I'm going to ask you to come with me."
Ash swallowed thickly. "Mall jail?" The massive man nodded. "Can I bring a snack?"
Pride was once usually pertaining to pokémon battles. A young Ash would often claim himself to be the best, to be unstoppable and would react more violently to an insult of his training abilities than anything else. Perhaps, as he was not overly athletic nor overly intelligent, this was the only thing the young man could take pride in. Because of this it was too be expected that he would throw himself in it whole heartedly, and be particularly prideful in this.
The redhead, however, seemed to have deflating his pride as her talent. She could twist a phrase to a cutting remark like a sculptor with a mound of clay or marble. If he wasn't on the bitter end of the transaction, he imagined it would sound almost artistic. As he wasn't, they stung and sounded stupid. What made it stung most was not the words themselves, but the utter joy she took in insulting him and twisting the knife.
"Ash, I know you want the beef inside you, but don't you think you're being a little forward?" She asked, watching as he massaged the meatloaf mix inside the bowl.
"That's stupid," he muttered. "I'm making dinner. All I know how to make is meatloaf and this is how you're supposed to make it! You have to mix the meat with everything, it's not foreplay and cut it out with the sex jokes. It's cheeseburger meatloaf. You'll like it, and if you don't, you can starve for all I care. I'm being nice and making dinner for you and I'll you're doing is being mean to me. Can't you be nice?"
"It's always cheeseburgers with you. I don't know why you're so obsessed with them. Most burgers aren't even that good unless you go to one of those gourmet burger joints, the ones with the blue cheese and the onions and the special sauces." She dropped her head low on the counter with a happy sigh. "I didn't know you could cook, Ash. Did Brock teach you? He tried to teach me but he gave up pretty fast. I'm not very good at measuring out the ingredients. I don't have the patience for it. Maybe you had a talent for it."
"My mom taught me this one," he said, still on the defense. "Brock taught me a few times too. Guess you weren't smart enough to cook."
"Nah, I was too boyish. He needed a real girl, like you, Ashley." She smiled. "I took the fall on that one, but I can't pass up on a chance to call you a girl. Besides, I'm used to getting called a boy. You do it all the time. Of course, you would know. Whenever you see me your uterus tingles with the thought of future children, doesn't it?"
"I'm not a girl." He defended, suddenly feeling his temper flare. "I'm a man, not a boy or a girl or a woman or anything but a man."
"It's hard to take you seriously when you're feeling up a bowl of meat. You're feeling up beef." She poked her finger at it, and yanked away swiftly, making a face and wiping the finger on her jeans. "Ew! I can't believe you've got your hands in that! It's cold and squishy and nasty and disgusting! It's like a big nasty bowl of brains. That's really weird. It's cow brains, that's what it is. You're feeding me cow brains!"
"It's beef," he retorted. "Say I'm a man."
"You're not a man," she said calmly, laying her head own again. "The best you'll get out of me is that you're a boy, which I refuse to acknowledge until you acknowledge I'm a girl. So, are you willing to do that? I think it's an equal trade, we each call one another by our appropriate genders."
He looked at her carefully, and for a moment her heart raced, thinking he was about to get over himself and admit it, admit that she could be thought of as a girl instead of another bitter insult. Instead, he snorted, "You're a tomboy, always have been, always will be. No way, no how I'm ever going to say you're a girl. My mom always says not to lie. You better not get your hopes up with me ever calling you a girl, I've got too much dignity to admit that."
He pulled his hands out of the bowl and went to wash them, surprised to hear a quiet murmur: "Well, I do know you're a boy, and one day you'll be a man, even if I do call you Ashley. At least I've got the balls to say it." And he continued holding his hands under the water, no longer washing them, and closed his eyes tight at the sound of her feet pounding up the stairs and the strangled, angry sound she made.
His conscience demanded he follow her, but his pride demanded he didn't.
He was disappointed that he let his pride win.
Envy was rarer than the others, but he had felt it many times before over his short, teenage life. He was never embarrassed to feel it, never tried to hide it, as he never had any reason to. It was usually when someone won a competition he himself had lost, or when someone had a very delicious looking meal. Things that anyone would feel jealous over, and things people understood when he did and just waved it off, chalking it up to his pride. It was generally a pang that lasted a short while, usually making him mad more so than hurt.
But now it stung, made his mouth taste like metal with pure jealously, pure hurt as he watched them from his bedroom window, wondering why it stung so bad, because there wasn't anything he had lost, surely there wasn't any wasn't anything the brown haired rival had stolen from him, not tonight. So what if he was inside, alone but for the mouse in his lap that he scratched, hands moving faster and faster as the feeling intensified.
Below him, Misty was talking to Gary. It was strange at first, but Ash guessed they had grown closer over the time he'd been away. His man said that Misty had often come over on a weekend, having nothing to do and needing a break from the never ending tirade of beginning trainers. She would hang out with the Professor, Gary and had begun making friends with many of the Pallet Townies. But it still seemed strange that she would not just grow close to Oak, but not apparently as close as she was to him or Brock. From his perspective, probably closer. They looked like a couple, and it made him green with envy.
Down below, they were looking like a couple, and Gary's arm was not draped over her shoulder out of love, but sympathy as she complained about Ahs. For quite a while, she had liked him and tried to convey her affections. She would try to get them alone, try to hint at greater feelings with a suggestive sentence or two and every attempt had been in vain. The boy would blush, stutter and the two would be boxed into friendship once more, something she wish she could overcome.
Gary, in turn, tried to make her feel better, telling her that yes, Ash was a moron, but he might catch on. The only way to get his attention would be to strip and run through the town naked (which Gary sincerely suggested) or just came right out to tell him. Ash probably liked her back, but was too stupid to figure it out, unless, of course, she did them all a favor and ran through the town butt naked. Which, once again, he really, really suggested.
Ash flung open the window around this point, not knowing what they had been discussing before, as they had been whispering and he was much too far away to hear. His voice sounded more vicious than intended, and the words he said were most likely uncalled for, but at the moment, he could not bring himself to care in the slightest. "Misty, mom said you had to be in by ten. It's already ten fifteen! Say goodnight to your stupid boyfriend and come in!"
"No!" Misty shouted in return, a large smile spreading across her face. "I want to spend time with Gary, because he knows I'm a girl! Even if he does have a perverted, jerky way of showing it. Am I a girl, Gary Oak?"
"I would love it if the female specimen of the human race, named Misty Waterflower, would streak through the town to get the boy of her dream to love her, for no other purpose but her eventual happiness, certainly not my happiness, because I'm not perverted and I would not take joy in watching a fully naked hot, foxy redhead run naked in the streets in Pallet, unless someone recorded it and played it in slow motion!" He shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth.
She laughed and Ash slammed the window closed, waving away the urge to slaughter Gary Oak as another one of his teenage mood wings, not jealous at all of how he managed to make the redhead laugh; something he hadn't been able to do in a long time. He slammed his fists on the headboard of the bed with a yell, burying his head in a pillow and fighting off the urge to cry. He threw the pillow across the room a moment later and stormed around.
"What's wrong with me, Pikachu? What's wrong with her? It's Gary! He's a total asshole! How could she like him? How could she laugh at one of his jokes? He was telling her to run around the city naked, to strip! Do you understand that? He wanted to see her naked! How could she stand for that? If I ever said something like that, she would punch me in the face or in the groin or something. When did she get so close to Gary and so far away from me?"
He threw his pokeball alarm clock across the room and gave another furious yell. "Why the hell do I care? I don't! She can do whatever she wants!"
Ash jumped into the bed, the sheets covering her head, and started to cry.
Wrath was one he was often on the receiving end of Team Rocket, who wanted revenge for all the blasting off; Pikachu missed her ketchup and took it out on him; Misty was a violent, quick tempered person. It all added up to a whole lot of wrath rolling his way. He was used to it all, and he didn't mind being on the bad end of the exchange any more. It gave his life spice, and it made him feel good when his friends stood up to fight the wrath against him.
Never had he wanted to hit someone quite the way he wanted to hit Misty when she walked through the door. It wasn't bad enough that he didn't know what time she had got in the night before, had done who knew what with Gary, but she was happy, amazingly happy, and ruffled his hair as he bent over a bowl of cereal and shoveled it into his mouth like nobody's business. Still whistling, she sat down and poured herself a bowl. "Good morning Ash," she chirped.
"What happened that it's such a good morning?" he snapped bitterly. "Did you boyfriend kiss you last night?"
She giggled. "Don't be such a dork, Ash. I wouldn't kiss Gary any more than I would ever kiss you. We're friends now, but he's still a jerk, not really my type. He's hot, but I like to look at the personality of a boy before I look at the looks. What's the point of having a hot guy if you can't stand to be around him long enough to appreciate it? I can get that from a picture of a male model. If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you were jealous."
"I've moved onto better sins," he growled. His eyes met hers and her deliriously happy smile vanished, a touch of fear lighting in her eyes. "Like wrath. It's petty powerful, damn well effective too. Super effective, in fact. It's much better than envy, just makes you cry. Wrath is what gets it done. That's what makes you take the first swing and get the whole thing rolling."
"Don't talk like that, Ash," she said quietly, turning to her breakfast. "You're freaking me out."
He stood up, his chair flying backwards and slamming his hands on the table. He leaned forward, right in her face with a dangerous, maniacal smile. "What should I talk like Misty? Tell me! You stick your nose in everywhere else it doesn't belong, why not here? At least I'm asking for it! Tell me how to talk, how to eat and sleep and breathe because we all know that I can't do it without your guidance! I need your help!"
She got up quickly, moving towards the door, but he grabbed her wrist and yanked her back. He twisted her hand up, and their faces came close. "For the past few years you've been a bitch, and I don't like it. It makes me want to…I just want to hit you sometimes!"
She glared at him, eerily calm. "You are not my father, not a policeman, not any kind of authority figure. We're basically the same age, in fact, I'm a little older. It's not your job to punish me. But if you want to hurt me, to beat me because I've got friends that you don't approve of, you're not the boy I thought you were, and sure as hell no man. You're taking a huge step backward in the wrong direction, and you deserve every guilt trip your conscience will give you."
He winced and dropped her wrist, feeling near tears, once again, as she raced off. She was scared of him, even though she didn't say it. She didn't want to show it, but she was. His friend, his…his crush was terrified to come near him, and how could he blame her? He was pretty scared of himself right now. He had threatened to hit her, said he wanted to and implied that he would enjoy it with the smile he had been wearing.
It only took him a moment to realize it was time to apologize.
Greed reveals that Ash's life truly did revolve around pokémon battles and food. These were the only things he ever felt greedy about, at least, the only thing that he could think of. He wanted to win it all, have all the food in the world. He wanted to catch all the pokémon, get every title under his belt. He should have known that greed inevitably followed envy, the two were close knit, barely a degree off being the same emotion.
At least, he had thought that was all he wanted, but something Misty said had struck a chord. She had said that he was jealous she was getting new friends and it hit him hard that he was, for once, after something that didn't have to do with pokémon or food or battles. He wanted her. He wanted the redhead all to himself, to chase Gary away and spend hours playing video games together, eating cheeseburger meatloaf and having a good time. Now, all he had to do was let her know and hope she was willing to stay with him and not kill him.
He found her by a bench, not on the bench, but on the ground next to it, curled up tight with one of her cheesy romance novels in the grass. Her sneaker prints were still in the dirt, showing where she had wandered off the path and apparently, had sat on the bench before walking back and collapsing on the grass. She hadn't been crying, because he knew that her eyes always stayed red long after she cried. She didn't look like she was about to cry, though she did glare at him for a moment when he walked into her line of vision.
He took a deep breath. "I'm an idiot."
"Yes, yes you are," She confirmed. "I'm surprised it took you this long to figure it out. I've known it since day one when you fried my bike. Remember frying my bike? The one you never paid me back for?" She glared more fiercely at the boy and muttered a seething, "asshole" under her breath.
"I was jealous," he continued, ignoring her hard words.
"Really? I never would have guessed," she said sarcastically. "I'm not stupid, Ash I could tell you were jealous. You always get violent when you're jealous. I've seen you do it before. Now, you've never done so over any of your friends before, but I guess Gary's never stole a friend of yours away. Just so you know, nothing's going on with Gary and I. We're friends, Ash, and I've got enough feeling in me to care for you too."
He shoved his hands in his pockets, afraid of the anger his question was about to raise. "You're not, uh, flattered that I'm jealous?"
"Golly gee, a boy feels the same emotions towards me as he could towards a possession or title." She rolled her eyes. "I'm not an object, Ash. Men and women shouldn't fight over a partner, it's degrading no matter what way you look at it. People aren't prizes, and if I loved Gary and you beat him up, how's that going to change how I feel about you? So what if you're strong, I still loved Gary, and you just beat up the guy I love. Have a little dignity! If you like me, tell me and we'll see where it goes from there."
"I don't like you," he argued.
"Of course you don't," she consoled. "But, you know, I liked you before this week. I liked you a lot before this week, but you're proving yourself to be a pretty big jerk. So I'm not so sure I'm a fan now. I'm disappointed I came. You ruined all the previous love I have for you."
"I'm glad you came," he murmured, sitting down beside her. "And…I know it's wrong, but I don't want you to have any other friends, guy friends. I want you all to myself. I like it when we're all alone, just messing around together. It's weird to see you doing that with someone else. I don't like it."
"Greedy bastard," she scolded, but there was a lighter tone in her voice, a teasing tone that lifted his spirit. "You better not grab me like that again or ever threaten to hit me, or else you're going to be in big, big trouble." She tweaked his nose and set her book aside.
"Grab you like what?' He asked, grabbing up her wrist and yanking her close. He had a smile this time to, but it was playful. "Like this?"
Their faces were dangerously close, but they took no notice as Misty whispered, "You want to play now, don't you? I'm not game to let you win, jealous boy. I'm might let Gary win, because I like so much more then you. I'd rather spend time alone with him instead of some wrathful girl named Ashley."
"You'll pay for that."
She giggled. "It's always funny to watch you try to be tough. Come at me Ashley, if you dare."
She squealed as he began to wrestle with her, the two playing deep into the afternoon, a friendship quickly mended.
Lust was much, much too foreign for him. He was not used to sweaty palms and drying mouth when a girl in a too short skirt walked by, and he never really wanted to feel such a thing either. He had never discovered if he liked legs or boobs or butts. He seemed to be asexual, as was a common belief among his friends, as he never seemed to crush on a girl, not broadcasting when he thought someone was gorgeous, and Brock remembered only once when he claimed to find a girl attractive.
This would quickly change the afternoon of the fish festival, spent stuffing their faces with assorted species of fish. Fish was deep fried, beer battered, and roasted in more ways than one could imagine as every man, woman and child seemed to go all out for the merry fair. They even had a man in a fish suit named Wally the Walleye, which freaked out our poor redheaded friend so much that she punching the thing in the gut and ran for her life, dragging a giggling Ash behind her.
They raced up to a hill, collapsing at the top under a large oak tree that marked the beginning of the professor's ranch. The heat and the run made them sweat, and the muggy air made it take much longer to catch their ragged breath. Ash still had his plate of fish clutched in hand, though most of it had fallen off with all the jostling, but he still had a few pieces left. He popped a piece of fish in his mouth, sighing happily at the taste, and put the plate down beside him.
"Ugh, how can you still stand all this fish?" she moaned. "Too many fishes. Too many. I rarely ever eat fish, but that's mostly because I live in a water gym and eating fish in front of fish is a bit too cynical, even for me, but it's also because normal humans aren't supposed to eat this much fish in one sitting. Ash, I'm going to throw up if I even see another fish. Smelling it isn't much better. Don't breathe on me. I swear, I'll upchuck if you do."
"You shouldn't swear; it isn't nice."
The two began to giggle at the stupid joke, stopping quickly when they discovered they still couldn't breathe from the run."Don't make me laugh, Ash, I can't breathe. Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?" She sang, throwing out her arms and not caring about her off key tone.
He belched in reply.
"Ugh, real charming. Your breath smells like fish and I told you not to breathe on me! I can't handle any more fish!" She rolled to a sitting position. "Have you ever said a word so much it doesn't sound like a word anymore? Fish doesn't sound like a word, nope! Sounds like a sound! Fish, fish," she sighed and glared at him. "That's why you're stupid. Fish makes your stupid and you make a pig of yourself every year with fish. Because you eat the fish, you IQ drops. I've solved the mystery! This case is closed!"
Hr grinned stupidly. "In your face Detective Conan, we finally solved the mystery before you."
"You know what?" She asked him. He stared at her and she promptly tackled him, apparently the "know what" of the situation, landing perpendicular on his chest with another moan form both of them. "That's what."
"Gluttony came back," he moaned, rubbing his stomach. "But gluttony's so fun. It makes me feel good, usually, unless I've got a fat redhead squishing my belly. Get off of me before I throw up on you, Mist, and I will too. I won't feel bad though. You had it coming. Seriously, my stomach's about to burst so you better get off! You'll have fish all over you, and then you'll throw up and then I'll throw up and it's just a nasty cycle."
"Well, if I move, I'll throw up. It's bad enough right now. If I move, I'll throw up. So you have to be a man and not throw up on me. That's the nice thing to do. Don't make me move! I came to your damn fish festival so you should be nice to your guest." She looked around with a giggle. "Where's Pikachu? That pokémon is the only reason I come here and now it vanished. It's all your fault, Ahs Ketchum."
"Why is it always my fault?" He complained.
"Because you eat too much fish, and fish makes you stupid. And when you're stupid you can't defend yourself in an argument, so it's easiest just to blame you." She shrugged and threw her hands out to the side, one of them hitting him in the face, and then she turned and flattered herself across his chest, looking up into his face. "It would be harder to blame you if you didn't eat so much fish. Fish, fish, fish, not a word fish."
That was when the lust hit, because she hadn't touched him, hugged him in a long time, and certainly not when she had breasts that she could press against him and remind him that she really was a girl, a girl who he liked and just might like him back. The thought made him sit up, tumbling her head into his lap as she moaned, holding her stomach like that would prevent her from throwing up. This action (her head in his lap, not her moaning and trying not to throw up) only succeeded in reminding him he was a boy, a boy with a redhead in his lap that was growing more attractive by the second.
He cocked his head at her, leaning towards her a bit, as far as his ribs would allow. "What would you do if I kissed you? I mean, right now, if I leaned in and kissed you, what would you do? Would you slap me or…or would you kiss me back?"
"What are you getting at? You've got some complex about you being unattractive?" She murmured, her eyes looking sleepy as she stared up at him. "Is it because you can't live without me? Mew knows I feel the same. I simply can't live without you near. Your gorgeous flowing hair, your rippling muscles, of, Fabio, I love you with all my heart, almost as much as I love my gorgeous flowing hair and my rippling muscles."
"Back to your trademark sin," he chuckled. "You're going to hell. Shame, shame. Sarcasm is a form of lying, and that's one of…something religious."
"So? You've got yours." She patted his stomach. "Gluttony and sloth. You know, you've managed to land every one of the seven this week. Maybe that should be your trademark sin! We'll call you Big Seven and you can have a sin for each day of the week. Sorry sir, it's Monday, we've got to go to the all you can eat buffet because he's gluttony today, we can't afford to eat at a fancy place. That's our Big Seven, sin for each day."
"What's Sunday?" He asked, continuing to lean forward as she sat up.
She said them, rhythmically and almost musically bringing up the chant, "Sunday Sloth, Monday Gluttony, Tuesday Pride, Wednesday Envy, Thursday Wrath, Friday Greed, and Saturday…" She trailed off, mouth going dry and eyes wide.
"What's Saturday?" Hands lay on her shoulder and thumbs smoothed soft skin. He noticed, as he leaned close, that fish seemed to leak from both their pores, not that he minded, since fish seemed to be the thing that brought them together. She was pretty, he noticed, and appreciated the loose shirt she wore, feeling only a smidgen of guilt as he realized he could clearly look down and see her bra and was sat inside them.
"Lust," she whispered, barely a squeak around her ever tightening throat. Her chest ached as one hand slid from her arm, down her torso to rest where her hip curved, just above the hem of her jeans. It spread warm shivered wherever it went, and she had to bite her lip to keep in the whimper threatening to spring from her throat.
"What day is today?" He asked, his voice sweet. There was nothing to clue her in to his real intentions but the arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close, at the moment, the only thing she could really think of. Voice sweet, and intentions wicked. He turned her in his arms, making sure her face, if nothing else, was turned towards his. "If I'm the big seven, what's my sin of the day, Mist? What should we be looking out for?
"It's Saturday, Ash. You know it's Saturday I…" she swallowed. "You're really freaking me out. It's worse than wrath."
He smiled nervously. "Thank Mew I'm not the only one. But I'm the big seven and I…I really want to do this. Just close your eyes if you want to, or run if you don't want to be with me. It's supposed to be fun, the kissing thing. That's why we've got those butterfree in our stomachs. It's because it's exciting and fun and an adventure." The hand still on her shoulder squeezed it tight in a reassuring manner.
"It's not fun. Fun is going on a sled ride or running from Wally the Walleye. This doesn't feel like fun. This feels like my body is going to explode and I'm going to break down crying. Everything is clenching so tight it hurts. I'm that tense! If this is supposed to be a good thing why am I so scared?" She bit her lip and looked down. Meeting his eyes made it so much worse, made the feelings stronger and made her more terrified than before.
"Because…" he chuckled, "I guess…it's sinful. But where's the fun if you don't break the rules?"
The kiss started just a moment after that line. It was impossible to tell who started the kiss, but it was obvious that each was enjoying it. Both were still too scared to paw at one another, each only clutching one another close, lips and tongues doing the best thing they could to release the ever growing burning in their stomachs. They ached for more, but terror overrode the lust, and lips couldn't move from one another's to kiss necks or anything better.
They separated a few moments later, eyes bright, and faces flushed as they kissed again, this one a mere peck on the lips, before setting back and contemplating what had just occurred.
"Alright, that was pretty good." Ash laughed lightly. "Not anywhere as bad as I thought it would be."
"Really? I thought it was terrible." She remarked. He flushed and began to mumble an apology, when her smile stopped him, sly and dangerous."I thought it was downright sinful."
He grinned and tackled her into the grass, quieting both their giggles with Saturday's sin, losing himself in her kiss, and making the full stomachs and sleepy attitudes were long forgotten with only reminder of their hectic week the taste of fish in their mouths and the blooming relationship.