Chapter no.38 Are We on A Date?

As I shifted on the smooth bench outside the Cerulean City Bank, the sun hung high and hot above me, people streamed by while Pokémon of all sorts flitted and sauntered among them.

A pair of cheerful Seels chased each other, their tails flicking in excitement, dodging the feet of a serious businessman walking his Slowbrow, whose dull dopey eyes gleamed under the sun's glare. A small group of Water-type Pokémon, led by a confident Poliwhirl, paraded near a street fountain, splashing playfully.

I found myself fidgeting, my feet tapping rhythmically against the cobblestone, echoing my racing thoughts.

Austin's words lingered in my mind, pulling at a smile that I tried to suppress.

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

Such simple words, yet they stirred a whirlwind of emotions inside me.

I giggled softly, almost in disbelief.

At least someone appreciates the beauty that is Misty.

The thought was a rare comfort, yet it tangled quickly with old, gnawing doubts. My sisters... always the radiant ones, the stars of Cerulean City. And me? The "ugly Psyduck," as they'd tease.

I couldn't help but wonder about Austin's sincerity.

Could his kindness be genuine?

As my feet picked up pace, a small stone skittered away from my shoe, clacking against the pavement.

Yeah, he must have an ulterior motive.

My mind raced as I pondered his possible intentions.

What could a newbie like him gain from helping me strive to be a gym leader?

It didn't add up.

Closing my eyes, I tried to quiet the swirl of questions. I focused instead on the sounds around me—the laughter of children, the gentle splashing of Water-type Pokémon at play, the distant murmur of conversations.

"Pika Pi!"

My eyes snapped open at the alarmed cry, and I turned just in time to see the little electric Pokémon jump and scurry behind me, his tiny body trembling.

Austin approached, a chuckle rumbling through his chest as he balanced a paper plate in his hand.

"Come on, Pikachu, it's tasty," he coaxed, but the Pokémon hissed back.

I raised an eyebrow, curious despite myself. "Where did you get that?"

"Oh, a local vendor outside the bank was selling it," Austin replied, gesturing vaguely towards the street bustling with people and Pokémon alike. "Pikachu got a taste and doesn't like it."

The dish was Cerulean City's local delicacy, to say the least—Tentacool Ink Vermicelli. The noodles were dark, almost black, coated in a glossy ink sauce that promised a flavor as deep as the ocean.

The black ink sauce promised an incredibly strong umami flavor.

"It looks delicious."

"Want to try?" he asked, holding out a plastic fork towards me.

I reached out tentatively, the plastic slightly warm against my fingertips. As I twirled some of the pasta around the fork, I could feel Pikachu's eyes on us, his expression one of disbelief and mild horror. It was as if he thought we were about to eat something utterly monstrous.

Lifting the fork to my lips, I took a small bite. The rich umami flavor burst across my taste buds, strong and savory with a hint of the sea.

"Just like how mom... used to make it," I murmured softly, a smile creeping onto my lips as memories flooded back. My mom loved this dish. She'd make it every chance she got, and unlike most kids who'd groan at the repetition, I never tired of it.

I cherished those moments in the kitchen, my small hands clumsily stirring the thick, black ink sauce under her watchful eyes.

"Want me to buy you a plate?" Austin's voice snapped me back to the present. I looked up to see his smile, warm and inviting, lighting up his face in a way that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and a slight dimple appear on his left cheek.

My cheeks heated up at his offer, and I nodded, suddenly shy. "Yeah, that would be... nice," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

As he turned to walk away, a sudden thought struck me.

"Wait, am I on a date?"

The idea fluttered in my stomach like a flock of wingulls in turmoil. I watched his retreating figure, trying to decipher my own feelings.

"Pika?" The confused voice of Pikachu brought my gaze down to the little electric type at my side.

"What's that supposed to mean, mouse?"

Pikachu nervously chuckled, a sound that was more of a squeak than anything. "Pika, Pi, Pi, Pi, Pika."

"I don't speak Pikanese," I retorted with heavy sarcasm, my arms folding across my chest as I raised an eyebrow at him.

First, Pikachu pointed at me, then dramatically crossed his arms and shook his head. He followed this by placing his paws together, like a clap, then quickly pulling them apart and shaking his head again.

Next, he gestured towards both of us, miming eating from a plate, then shrugged exaggeratedly, as if to say, "Just eating, nothing more."

Watching Pikachu's charades, I couldn't help but laugh.

Is he actually trying to tell me this isn't a date? The idea that Pikachu felt the need to clarify such a point was both hilarious and slightly mortifying.

Was I that obvious in my sudden panic?

Did Pikachu just understand human social cues better than I thought?

I didn't know whether to feel offended for being called out by a Pokémon or shocked that Pikachu could communicate his thoughts so clearly.

"Here you go, Misty."

I accepted the plate, balancing it carefully in my lap.

"And for you," he added, handing another plate down to Pikachu. This one was heaped with vermicelli noodles smothered in ketchup.

Pikachu's eyes morphed into hearts as he dove into his improvised meal, his enthusiasm palpable.

"Well, at least someone enjoys it."

I chuckled softly, but my smile faltered as I felt a piercing glare directed our way. Looking over, I caught sight of the vendor from whom Austin had purchased the pasta. His eyes were narrowed, his stare fixed on Austin with unmistakable disapproval. Confusion swept over me. What’s going on here?

"What did you do?"

Austin chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, I asked for a plate of raw vermicelli from him and just dumped a lot of ketchup on it for Pikachu. Guess the man didn't like it."

"Don't worry, Cerulean city people are just cautious of people trying to disrespect their culture."

Austin glanced at me, then back at the plate from which Pikachu was happily eating. "Disrespecting culture because I modified some dish? I don't think it's that deep."

"What can you do?" I shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. This wasn’t the hill I wanted to die on, and certainly not over a plate of ketchup noodles.

"Well, for starters, we can enjoy eating this," Austin declared, picking up his fork and twirling some of the squid ink pasta.

"Amen to that."

Austin and I sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying our meal.

"That hit the spot," I said, smiling as I watched Pikachu thoroughly enjoying a belly rub from Austin. The little Pokémon's contented expression made it hard not to share in his happiness.

"So, I got the money," Austin suddenly announced, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Money for what?"

"The plan," he replied simply.

I felt a flush of embarrassment as I realized I wasn't following. "Oh, right, the plan, the plan for me. The plan you made. The plan..." My words trailed off, my mind scrambling to catch up.

"Yes?!"

"Gotcha," I said and just nodded, hoping my response was convincing enough.

Austin looked at me blankly. "You forgot."

"In my defense, I was captivated by Pikachu's charades. I didn’t even know you could bypass the language barrier like that."

"Why?" Austin said as he lightly tapped Pikachu’s bloated belly, which jiggled amusingly.

Pikachu responded with a series of happy squeaks, his giggles echoing around us.

"I don't...know."

In a world filled with such fantastic creatures, what indeed makes humans special? It was a deep thought, one that might suggest man's need to feel superior; to not see Pokémon as intelligent, to fill a space in this beautiful canvas with these beautiful pokemon.

But Austin didn’t voice these thoughts. It wasn’t the time or place.

"It's fun, I've been practicing a game of charades with my Pokémon ever since I encountered Team Rocket’s talking Meowth."

"Oh, I remember hearing about that."

I glanced at Pikachu, his face the picture of serenity as Austin continued his gentle rubs.

"Are you serious about your plan?!" My voice came out sharper than I intended, edged with a mixture of disbelief and anxiety as I stared at the boy.

"Yes, I already have withdrawn the 20K," Austin said casually, his hand moving toward his pocket as if to show me the wad of cash as proof.

I gulped, feeling a sudden tightness in my chest.

"I believe you," I managed to say quickly, not wanting him to actually pull out the money right there.

My mind replayed Austin's plan: set up a tournament, offer around 20K in prize money, battle through 300 Pokémon matches—adding to the 700 I had already won over the course of my three-year journey—then submit to the league and finally become Cerulean's Gym Leader.

The plan was only simple on paper, so simple in fact, that I had refused to believe it until the boy had literally taken me to the bank and withdrawn the money.

Now, it felt all too real.

"I don't think we should go with this plan," I managed to croak out, my voice strained and my throat dry, the words barely above a whisper.

Even though I knew the plan would most likely push me closer to my goal, something about it felt wrong...

"Why?"

"What if I lose? 20K is the prize money a league winner gets, I can't just..." My voice trembled.

"Then don't lose," he replied simply.

A headache began to form behind my eyes, the pressure mounting as I considered the possibilities.

"Look, I don't know the future, what if some super strong trainer comes across the challenge and I lose? My loss doesn't matter, but you are more affected, and I don't know if I will be able to repay you back. Look, thanks for the plan, but let's quit while we are ahead."

Austin looked at me, his expression unreadable for a moment. The simplicity of his plan was its charm, but also its biggest risk. The stakes were high, too high for a gamble with his savings on the line.

The silence that settled between us was palpable, only punctuated by the soft, rhythmic breathing of Pikachu resting at our feet. The busy sounds of the city seemed to fade into the background, leaving Austin and me enclosed in our bubble.

"Yeah, you're right," Austin finally broke the silence, his voice low and thoughtful. I nodded in agreement, relieved yet still uneasy about the entire situation.

"So if you lose you can pay me back by selling your kidney."

My thoughts literally skidded to a halt. "What?" I stared at him, unsure if I had heard him correctly.

"You can pay me back by selling your kidney if you lose." Austin repeated it with such nonchalance that it was almost surreal.

"I don't want to sell my kidney."

"Then don't lose," Austin said again, a slight smirk on his face this time.

He was trying to lighten the mood, to encourage me, but his joke landed heavily. I managed a weak smile, recognizing his attempt at humor, but it did little to ease the growing pressure I felt.

This was too much—too much pressure not to fail.

My heart was racing, my thoughts swirling with fears of what could go wrong. "Thank you for everything, but I don't think I could go with this," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Just go to Vermilion. I don't think you need to go through all of this for a Grade 2 gym badge."

With that, I turned and left, my steps quick as I walked away.

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Pikachu watched with wide, curious eyes as his human, Austin, sat in silence. The conversation with Misty had been heavy, and now a blank expression settled over the boy's face as he processed the sudden departure.

"Let's go," Austin said finally, his voice flat as he stood and tossed their trash into a nearby garbage can. He began to walk deeper into the city, his steps a bit slower than usual.

As they moved through the bustling streets, Pikachu considered the oddity of human behaviors. His human was different—how he interacted with the world, the Pokémon, and the people in it often left Pikachu puzzled. He couldn't fathom why Austin was so intent on helping that girl.

Was this some kind of mating ritual? Pikachu wondered, though the idea seemed far-fetched even to his small electric brain. And frankly, Pikachu felt the boy could do so much better with a different mate.

"Let's get some Gelato," Austin announced, a hint of cheer returning to his voice.

"Pika," Pikachu chirped, instantly brightening at the idea. He then performed a small charade, mimicking squeezing a bottle and drizzling something—his universal sign for ketchup.

"No, I don't think they have ketchup Gelato."

Pikachu's ears flopped down in disappointment.

"You know what, let's try to find a new flavor that'll be better than ketchup."

That statement caused Pikachu to burst into a fit of laughter, the sound squeaky and infectious. The laughter shook him so much that he toppled right off Austin's shoulder, landing softly on the ground.

"Pika!"