Chapter no.39 Fate

Misty lay in her bed, the softness of the mattress a sharp contrast to the turmoil in her mind. It had been 24 hours since her conversation with Austin, and the events replayed in her head with nagging clarity. His offer had been the closest she'd ever come to achieving her dreams, but the cost—the potential for Austin to suffer—weighed heavily on her.

She knew Austin was sponsored by Professor Oak, which partly explained how such a rookie trainer had access to 20,000 Pokédollars. But considering he had only been a trainer for a month and a half, this money was likely all his savings.

Why would he bet it all on her?

It wasn't as if he'd gain anything if she became a gym leader.

Could his actions be driven purely by altruism?

Misty turned the idea over in her mind. Her travels through Kanto and Johto had shown her both the kind and the evil sides of people. The notion of a purely altruistic boy was difficult to digest. The world wasn't that simple, or so her experiences had taught her.

You're cute, so I want to help you.

Those words now felt hollow, unconvincing. Doubt gnawed at her: was there any truth in his sentiment, or was it all a façade?

What purpose would such a lie serve? Yesterday, his actions—withdrawal of the money—were unequivocal, clear as day. Had she not declined, she might have taken that first decisive step towards her dream of becoming a water-type master.

Misty always found solace in the simpler company of Pokémon over people. People were complex, their motives layered and sometimes opaque, whereas Pokémon offered a straightforwardness that comforted her.

Frustration building, Misty grabbed a pillow and pressed it over her face, muffling the scream that bubbled up from within.

Just move on, move on from this city, move on from this encounter, she urged herself. But the thought of how close she had come to becoming a gym leader gnawed at her, seeding a bitter regret that she struggled to dismiss.

Tears threatened to spill as she considered her path forward.

I can do it on my own. Maybe it will take a year or two more, but I could become the Cerulean City gym leader without having to burden anyone.

Perhaps it wasn't just about not burdening Austin. Maybe it was her pride that insisted she accomplish this on her own.

Or perhaps it was fear—fear of owing someone so much, fear of not living up to the expectations set by someone who actually trusted her and believed in her.

I am not afraid of failing myself but—

Her racing thoughts were abruptly cut off by the sound of knocking at her door. Startled, Misty removed the pillow from her face and sat up, her eyes darting to the clock.

When did it get to be 1 o'clock?

Dragging herself out of bed, she approached the door. Who could it be at this hour?

Misty opened the door and found Austin standing there, with Pikachu perched on his shoulder, hurriedly trying to hide a ketchup packet as if to appear more presentable. Her eyes flicked to Austin, who was holding a bag of takeout in his hand.

"You didn't have breakfast, so I got us some lunch."

Is he stalking me?

Misty wondered, her suspicion momentarily flaring as she eyed the takeout. Despite the unease twisting in her stomach, she stepped aside to let him in. She had resolved to unravel Austin's true intentions before her planned departure from Cerulean City this evening. Plus, she had to admit, the gnawing in her belly wasn't just from her swirling thoughts—she was also quite hungry.

Misty and Austin sat across from each other, the table between them spread—soft polenta paired with savory imitation seafood, and some risotto.

"Misty, can I ask you something?" Austin's voice broke the rhythm of their quiet meal.

Misty nodded, her utensils pausing mid-air as she braced herself for the conversation she knew was inevitable.

"So, why did you decline?"

The question made Misty frown, and she continued to eat quietly, letting a silence stretch between them. It was hard to tell whether she was formulating an answer or simply refusing to engage.

"I don't want to burden you when I fail."

Misty finally said laden with a sense of inevitability that she seemed resigned to.

Austin's reaction was immediate, though he tried to mask it. He paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, as her words hit him. He took a moment to gather himself before responding.

"Misty, I have a lot of money saved up before my journey began. Even if I lose this 20k, it's nothing."

Those word were nothing more than a bluff.

The fact remained that the 20,000 Pokédollars he talked about so casually was indeed a vast sum for him. His bluff was designed to soothe Misty's fears and coax her back into agreement with the plan however he had prepared with contingency plans, if Misty failed.

"No," Misty replied after a moment, her decision resolute as she began to scarf down her food more aggressively.

"Weren't you the one who was on board with my plan? So why quit now?" Austin's tone held a trace of annoyance.

"Yeah, I was, and I changed my mind. You can't tell me what I can and can't do," Misty shot back, her voice rising with her temper.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

Despite Austin's attempts to maintain a calm dialogue, Misty's fuse had long been shot. Her anger, simmering just below the surface, finally ignited as she vehemently pressed for the truth.

"And what did you mean by it, huh? Let me ask you this, why are you helping me? And don't give me that torus crap about me being cute, tell me the truth."

The truth was simple, yet unfathomably deep: he was doing all this because of fate. Fate—a concept he had scarcely considered before, but now it seemed impossible to ignore.

This world wasn't the anime he knew; it had become apparent enough.

It might be some kind of alternate universe or perhaps a matrix-like simulation.

The exact nature of his reality was elusive, yet one thing was increasingly clear: this world was striving to adhere to the canon of the anime, despite the variations he encountered.

He had already gotten another chance to persuade Brock to join him at the Saloon, mirroring the anime's plot. He had encountered the Clefairy tribe, just as in the series, despite Seymour's explaining that no one was allowed near their sacred lands. And now, Misty was "coincidentally" near Cerulean City and then her coming to agree to his plan, perfectly positioned to become his companion as if scripted by Fate.

Austin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the weight of these thoughts pressing down on him. Despite his efforts to forge his own path, his choices that deviated from the established storyline— choosing not to catch Caterpie or Pidgeot, or not to keep Brock in his team—fate seemed to nudge him back toward a familiar trajectory.

What were the rules of this game?

How much influence did fate really have over his actions?

The ambiguity of it all was confounding. Now, with the opportunity at hand, he contemplated using Misty to glean some insights into the workings of fate and the extent of its grip on him.

Was this fair to Misty to be his guinea pig?

Probably not.

But in his mind, she stood to benefit from his plan, which tempered any moral reservations he might have had.

Austin's mind was a tumultuous sea as he sat across from Misty, her piercing gaze demanding the truth, a truth he couldn't possibly divulge.

As he sifted through his thoughts, the boy realized that no matter how he phrased it, any attempt to explain his true motivations would likely cast him in a delusional, perhaps even insane light. Misty was already wary of his intentions; adding any different explanations would only exacerbate her doubts and could potentially alienate her completely.

With a quiet sigh, he concluded that the safest and perhaps the only viable option was to double down on the persona he had already presented:

Let’s just keep it straightforward. I’m helping because I think you’re capable and, yes, because I find you cute. Stick to this narrative; it’s believable and benign.

"Misty, I have already told you the truth. You can argue that I am grateful that you helped me in the past, I want to repay my debt but that wouldn't be the truth. I helped you because I want to, plus you are cute."

The response did not elicit the blush he might have hoped for; instead, it seemed to have the opposite effect.

Misty scoffed.

"You know when I was little, my sisters used to call me the Ugly Psyduck, so please do me a favor and leave. I can do everything on my own."

"Misty, let me—," but he was abruptly cut off as Misty slammed her hand down on the table, making him flinch.

"Leave me alone!"

At this point, Misty was overwhelmed. She didn't care about Austin's reasons or anything else; she just wanted to distance herself from the situation. Meanwhile, Pikachu glanced between the two, momentarily wondering if he could sneak some bites of the risotto left unattended.

"Fine," Austin conceded quietly after a moment, turning his attention back to his plate and resuming his meal in silence. Misty did the same, and the only sounds in the room were the clinking of cutlery and the distant noises of the city.

After a few moments, Austin began to fiddle with his Pokédex, breaking the heavy silence with the soft clicking of buttons. "What are you doing?"

"Entertainment," Austin replied nonchalantly. "I sometimes listen to Pokédex entries when I am eating." He clicked on the device, perhaps a bit too eagerly, as if the digital voice could fill the void left by their strained conversation.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

For all mankind's inventions – volcano monitoring, satellite tracking of hurricanes, and the like – there remains no better predictor of natural disasters than the intensity of a Psyduck's headache. Although perpetually confused and in pain, Psyduck possess a telepathic bond with the Earth itself. When the world cries out in pain and upheaval, this link activates, causing its headaches to grow ever worse and its telekinesis to often become uncontrollable. Although some inexperienced trainers can not discern the difference between this and the pokemon's normal erratic behavior, wise men have learned to run for cover whenever a Psyduck cries out in pain.

Unfortunately for those in some hotspots, these cries happen regardless of the nature of the disaster in question. It is not unheard of for people to run for cover on a Psyduck's warning fearing a hurricane, only to be crushed by that very cover in a freak earthquake. It is this issue, more than any others, which has taught man about the need to invent better ways to predict disasters; so far, they have largely failed. Furthermore, many trainers have begun feeding headache medication to their Psyduck, which although making them far more effective in battle (provided their strategy does not involve psychic attacks) means there is not nearly as often a Psyduck around capable of giving warnings.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

As Austin played a Pokédex entry aloud, Misty listened skeptically, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Was this another one of this guy's schemes?

But the genuine surprise on Austin’s face when the entry concluded suggested otherwise.

“Didn’t know that? You,” he said, looking slightly embarrassed.

Misty nodded, her suspicion momentarily wavering.

"I always thought of Psyducks as nothing more than weak Pokémon."

“Psyduck can evolve into Golduck,” Misty corrected him.

“Hmm, an ugly Psyduck into a beautiful Golduck,” Austin remarked thoughtfully. Misty’s eyes narrowed again, her guard instinctively rising.

"What does that mean?”

“When I was a child, my mom used to tell me a story,” Austin began, seeing an opportunity to mend fences. “It’s about a Psyduck who is mocked for being clumsy and not very graceful, but it eventually evolves into a beautiful and powerful Golduck.”

Misty nodded as it was her favorite bed time story.

Her mom always encouraged her that —

“I think one day you’ll grow up to be a beautiful Golduck."

Misty's cheeks flushed a deeper shade as she averted her gaze from Austin's earnest expression. The sincerity in his eyes, so clear and unwavering, struck a chord within her. For a fleeting moment, she didn't just see the boy, but rather a figure of support, reminiscent of her own mother—encouraging and steadfastly there for her

“I want to apologize,” he said, extending his hand toward her.

“Apologize for what?” she asked, her tone softening, though her blush lingered.

“Apologize for overwhelming you and making you think you have to do this. I just wanted to help,” Austin replied, his voice earnest. Internally, he was conflicted. Although part of his motivation had been driven by his own plans and curiosities about fate, seeing Misty’s resistance and distress made him regret how forcefully he had pursued his agenda.

Oh, who cares about this, he thought, realizing that there would be other chances to understand fate’s influence.

For now, I should treat people with the dignity they deserve.

Misty extended her hand with a tentative smile, her grip firm.

"Apology accepted."

"Well, then I think I'll leave you to your own stuff," Austin said as he began to gather the empty takeout containers. Pikachu, ever the helper, was enthusiastically licking the remains from one particular container. He chuckled softly, shaking his head at the sight before scooping up Pikachu by the nape, ready to depart.

Just as he was about to step out, Misty quickly stood up. "Wait?"

Austin paused and turned to face her as she approached. "I think I'd like to go with your plan, but let's reduce the money to like five thousand from you and five from me," Misty suggested, her voice faltering slightly as she stood just a few inches from him.

"As long as you are okay with it."

"Hey, with five thousand, I don’t have to sell my kidney," Misty joked.

"Aww, and I had a sketchy surgeon lined up and everything," he quipped back. Misty responded with a light hit to his arm.

"What's the plan?"

"About that," Austin said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a poster that sparked with the excite

ment of competition. He unfolded it to reveal bold, eye-catching words:

"Nugget Bridge Gauntlet!"