o8.
chapter eight
I would. I definitely would.
but I can't.

The wind ruffled my crop top, but I lay as lazy as a sloth on the freshly dewed grass. 

Summer mornings in Pallet, the grassy glides of the mound we had named ours, Ash’s voice ringing in my ears—him chatting away about his past life—it felt like a promise to return again. 

"—And I didn’t want Chemistry." 

"You make a point," I mumbled, feeling a stroke of grass below my hand to grab. "But I hate Physics and numericals more. Damn the derivations." 

"So Adam Smith is okay?" 

"Loads." 

The boy chuckled. The green thing slipped from my fingertips, and I craned my head toward him. For whatever reason, he met my eye and went all out, banging the earth as if it had asked to be punished. A small laugh broke out, but I stopped myself, letting out a cough instead. 

When Ash took his sweet time to calm down, I flopped onto my side to watch him better. It seemed like the sunlight hitting his eyes only made them shine brighter when he talked about his job, food, games, manga—literally anything and everything. 

The boy from childhood, whose face I had, I daresay, forgotten, had matured just fine. I knew that much when I flipped through Uncle Meyer’s album and found a photo of us clutching Bunny and Teddy, our plushies. He’d had spiky hair with the brightest set of browns I had ever seen. 

I blinked, my heart swelling with nostalgia. They were the very same bright browns he was wearing now. The very same tug of his lips. The only thing that had changed was how soft his hair looked despite being messy. 

My heart skipped a beat when his brown eyes zeroed in on me. I hummed, hoping it wasn’t pounding that loudly. "Mhm, did you understand Calculus?" 

His eyes softened with a smile. "I did. Thank you." His voice turned into a whisper as he spoke. Then he tore his gaze away. "Sometimes, I wish I never had to go to school." 

"You’re intending to drop out?" I asked, alarmed. The grass slipped away completely from my fingertips, replaced by the warmth of another set of fingers. His hand gave a tiny squeeze. 

"No, I’m not giving up yet." 

"Ash?" 

"I just didn’t have company." His gaze flitted up to the tree we lay under, and he propped his head up on his other hand. I followed him, gazing up at the dancing leaves above. 

I wanted to say something. Anything to console him. Maybe the fact that Misty and Gary would now be there for him. Deep down, I knew they weren’t the ones he was expecting. 

I had to be the one to keep him company.

I would. I definitely would. 

But it would be a total lie, seeing as I was only here for the May vacation. 

When I thought the conversation was over, he breathed, "But I have you now." 

I loosened my grip. "I’m only here on vacation, Ash." 

"I know." 

My eyes snapped shut, and I inhaled the fresh breeze that blew through the fields of Pallet. "I won’t be here forever," I whispered, feeling his hand working under mine to intertwine our fingers yet again. 

"I’m thankful for what I have." 

I turned to him. All of a sudden, it looked like the background—the whistling winds, the quiet shade of the sycamore tree, the dancing grassy glades, the sunlit meadow we lay under, everything—blurred out of focus. 

"I’m glad I was able to reunite with you again and—" he hesitated, a flicker of self-doubt lingering on his parted lips. But then he turned to me, shooting those glimmering orbs into my soul. "—and to have spent time with you, Bunny." 

The only sane thing I could manage—I had learned from years of living in a metropolitan city where affection was a foreign alien—was a smile, hoping my cheeks hadn’t betrayed the heat I felt within. 

Ash sat up, and I followed suit, letting our hands slip away after giving him a tiny squeeze. "Maybe we should get going," I proposed, checking my watch. It was well past two in the afternoon, and Mom would be expecting me for lunch. Nonetheless, I didn’t want this moment to end. 

To part ways with him so soon when I still had three days left in Pallet. 

"Yeah," Ash agreed, getting to his feet and offering me a hand. Obliging, we dusted our clothes off before Ash mounted his cycle and indicated the pillion rider seat. 

"Are you sure you can balance?" I teased, throwing a foot over the little seat. 

"Don’t you trust me, Bunny?" Even if he was facing the other side, I could hear his smirk. "But I hope you don’t regret it, ’cause the ride’s getting wild. Babe, hold on tight!" 

I didn’t have the chance to glance at the sycamore tree before Ash pushed off, leaving me hanging onto him for dear life as the bicycle rolled downhill. The wind slapped my hair left and right annoyingly, and more than anything, I wanted to chop it off before setting foot on this land again. 

When my screams and his laughs subsided and he pedaled through the finely coursed road, my thoughts stopped at the warmth around my arms—the presence of Ash. 

I would miss him for sure, but why did it feel like I would remember his face this time? 

His messy hair blew back into my face when he increased the pace, eliciting a giggle. 

I will miss him, but not as a friend. 

I swallowed, my grip instinctively tightening around his jacket when realization crashed in. I had let my heart run with no control. 

"Hey, Ash," I whispered, daring to test the waters—to explore what I was feeling and clarify whether it aligned with my thoughts. 

"Yeah?!" 

"Do you… like anyone now?" 

The town life bustled softly, the wind ringing in my ears like an upcoming storm. The sun’s rays suddenly turned garish as Ash took his time to answer. 

"I—I guess I do." The cycle slowed, now merely riding the wind. My heart gave a desperate stutter, and I knew—the answer had been handed to me like the politest gift. 

"That’s… awesome!" 

But I leaned close. 

"You should tell her!" 

My hands roamed his midriff, flexing around his waist. 

"And I wanna know how it goes!" 

I rested my head on his shoulder blade. 

"You’ll tell me, right?" 

His warmth shot through my cheeks. 

A word I didn’t wish to hear stammered through the summer air. 

"I will, Bunny."