Misty looked at Ash, his breathing still heavy from carrying her on his bike as fast as he could through the long grass outside of Pallet Town.
âYouâre eyes are impossibly huge and black,â Misty said. âYour hair is⌠incredibly pointy, and doesnât need product. Your face changes size and shape based on your feelings⌠and sometimes you speak like - like youâre from the 90âs. You never spend money on anything; you donât go to the bathroom.â
The silence hung there, thick and heavy like a Snorlax blocking the bike path.Â
âHow old are you?â Misty asked, not sure if she wanted to know.
âTen,â Ash replied, with a slight smirk and an almost amused tone.
Misty new that wasnât true. Ash wasnât like the other boys her age. He wasnât even like her older sisters who ran the gym in Cerulean City. He was wiser and his passion was genuine.
Ash didnât just want to catch them all, he needed to. He was going to be the best there ever was no matter how long it took, which gave Misty this nagging in the back of her mind. She had to know for sure.
âHow long have you been ten?â she asked. Her voice weak, knowing full well the answer could change everything she thought she knew.
âA whileâŚâ Ash said. His voice trailing off, as if he were losing himself in a flood of memories.
Misty let out a faint gasp. She knew now. She was certain.
âI know what you are,â she declared, as if whatever had been holding her back from accepting the truth, finally let go of her hand and let her fall right down the Diglett hole.
Ash eyes were alive now, flickering like the flame on a Charmanderâs tale.
He stared right into her and said, âSay it⌠out loud. Say it.â
Mistyâs heart was pounding louder than the thud of a Marowakâs bone club attack.
Despite the now eerily silent meadow, she could barely be heard as she whispered, âPokemon Trainer.â
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