Work Text:
“we were girls together.”
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.
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"Misty, do you have the blanket? If not, I left it behind."
The bottles of wine clinked together as Sakura held them tightly in her tote bag, looking at Misty's descending back as she carefully crossed the sandy path. Their sources of guiding light were a zippo and a night-deep moon ready to welcome the sun.
"I got it. Watch your step, Sakura!" Her white sandals sink into the soft, wet ground. An old matron selling pickled peaches and rose-rolled cigarettes outside her boat house gave directions to a hidden beach towards the southern part of the Humilau City - on the way to Undella Bay. Humilau City was a calm, salty hideaway floating in the waves - tranquil until Misty and Sakura decided to visit. They left their impression on the locals - from renting an old shack that didn't appear as pretty as the newer villas to immediately spending hours sorting through flower-dyed silk to buy. They've spent each morning eating pickled peaches by hand, offering elbows to each other while collecting seashells. To curious eyes, two girls dancing across water with their dandelion and lavender-dyed silk skirts draped across sunkissed skin, losing themselves and jumping off rocks — well, it was like looking at girls of the past - pearl-diving girls - the girls of spring and summer.
It was very late. The city was asleep sort of late. A deep, dark blue night speckled with enough light that the morning was on the horizon, and soon, according to plan, they will share a sunrise. Their evening consisted of cooking vegetable curry and painting their nails. Misty painted strawberries on Sakura's nails; Sakura painted clouds on Misty's nails. They leave the windows open, leaning against the frame and letting the salty breeze dry their manicures as they whistled and flirted with the young fisherman pulling onto the shore.
With Sakura's espeon between them, the girls slept to the sound of the ocean before waking up two hours after with newfound energy. They washed their faces, added their face lotions, applied lip balm to fight the dryness, and put on whatever they could find in a hurry to get to the hideaway with enough time to catch the sunrise.
"I think this is it."
It was like a page from a storybook. The beach wasn't only flat sand - covered by palms, seagrass, and an abundance of hibiscus bushes—an oasis. A family of tangela slept entangled in the corner of Misty's eye. She motioned to stay silent, inching closer to the incoming tide and away from the family.
With their blanket on the sand, they settle and breathe. Limbs outstretched. Shoes off. Long pashminas wrapped around them like wings.
It's their yearly pilgrimage. A little holiday where the two pick a destination, show up at the front step and drag each other into whatever nonsense they decided on at the moment. Last year they were sledding in Snowpoint City, Sinnoh, and addicted to hot chai cuddled up against the fireplace.
Sakura picked a beach vacation this round, knowing Misty's always wanted to experience the Undella Tunnel. Sakura's traveled throughout Unova for the last two years, a traveling starlet with the New Nimbasa Theatre. Heavy with the burden of leaving the stage, she has been considering entering the Kalos League as a battling trainer or performing in Pokemon Showcases aiming for a Queen title.
Misty relates to Sakura's forked path. Her time is spread thin between being an active gym leader in Cerulean and training under Prima's guidance.
But Misty makes time for Sakura. She misses Sakura's sardonic quips and playful eye-rolls — from how she gives Misty a knowing look the minute they see someone make a fool of themselves. For Misty, spending days with Sakura felt like an ice pack when you have a fever or a blanket thrown on your shivering body. She was a fresh spring after being caught in a cloud of smoke.
Misty uncorked the wine and passed it to Sakura instinctively.
Sakura dipped her head with a hearty swish and handed it back. The wine was pale and straw-colored with a crisp, clean flavor that tickles the thin skin of your mouth. Misty took a sip and then fished through her pocket for the lighter with the other hand. From Sakura's tote bag arose the pink-wrapped joint.
Misty clicked her finger against the lighter and inhaled quickly, kickstarting the burn as she puffed. The moonbeams dance across the wake with every motion matching the pace of her breathing.
Their friendship started this way. Sitting in front of the water, talking about sisterhood, romantic adventures, and the dreams they've repeated to each other and the universe.
"My phone has been off this entire time," Sakura reminded herself, taking a hit with no hesitation. "This is nirvana."
"I miss my old Pokégear. It was so cute." Hers had pink accents and a cracked screen from when Psyduck sat on it.
"Listen, don't get me wrong, I love my Rotom Phone, but I can't help but miss what it was like to travel anywhere with no one knowing where you were or who you were with."
Misty stared blankly. "Sakura, that's so dangerous."
"You know what I mean! I just know that my sisters will call me asking me for life updates when they wake up. They aren't handling me potentially leaving Nimbasa for Kalos well."
"Have you thought more about it?"
"Yes," she admitted, clicking her strawberry nails against the glass bottle. "It's like I'm in a constant state of evaluation. When I'm happy, when I'm homesick, when I'm bitter - I have to be honest and admit that I'm not like them. My sisters can stay home for the rest of their lives and fulfill their duties with pride. But I'm greedy. I want everything in life! To travel, to train, to fall in love, to have friends, to get my heartbroken…I want it all. And explaining that to them is like pulling teeth."
"Sakura, no one has to approve your decisions or give you permission. It's no one else's call but yours. Remember when you decided you wanted to challenge the Johto League and travel by yourself?"
"Well, you inspired me."
Misty smiled sweetly. Her memory served her the image of a blossom girl in mary-janes and twin tails, grabbing her hand and pulling her down in a fit of giggles. "Shut up. That was all you." The girls knock their shoulders together. "Besides, you can always go home."
"I can always go home!" She echoed in Sakura fashion. I worry that they will always see me as that kid that doesn't know better."
"It's funny. My sisters pull the 'you're just a kid' card on me when it suits, but you saw how quickly they made me gym leader when I was only ten. Aging isn't as linear as they make it ought to be."
"Yeah?"
"It's like - how part of me will always feel like she's that ten-year-old girl throwing herself at the world. Of course, I'm sixteen now, but maybe in ten years part of me will always feel that way. Me at ten and me at sixteen. Living with those memories and feelings that she carried."
"Heavy," she responded, flipping one of her twin tails over her shoulders. A silk wave of magenta. "Do you feel like you're someone else now?"
Misty thinks for a second. "Not entirely new, but I feel more open. Less self-righteous. What about you?
"Bolder. Not as soft. You've rubbed off on me."
"Honestly, I think you did it first. You are the one that taught me that violence isn't always the answer."
"I mean, violence is still an option."
Sakura was Misty's flame friend. A tender voice that firmly spoke over chaotic loudness. A kindred spirit that wrote in gel pen and sprayed glitter peach body spray on each letter - all the letters from Sakura kept in a memory box with photographs and charms. Misty used to be heartbroken over Sakura choosing to travel on her own. Brock and Ash reassure her that it'll be alright - that her new friend Sakura will be just fine.
Misty watched Sakura go down that road and kicked her sneakers in the dirt. But, unlike Sakura, Misty left Cerulean brazen and half-angry with the world, then Ash became hers, and then Brock came at their side and the rest was history.
Misty wasn't made to endure alone. She was wrong.
Misty was made for connections.
And Sakura, sweet and willful, was a meaningful connection.
Many letters later, some battles and constant calls proved that distance and separation do not matter to stubborn girls that sink their teeth into friendship like fangs into berry skin.
They understood each other. Sakura understood that when she teased Misty about boys and girls till her cheeks turned cherry - it always came back to Ash Ketchum. Even if his name never drops, Sakura can spot the bittersweet tint hidden in Misty's facade. Misty understood that Sakura might not fawn over her league losses, but every performance where she dances something sorrowful is her way of letting go of them. In her mother's kimono, she dances on the broken pieces of her lost triumphs. They understood how to take turns carrying the weight of the world when it came to sharing stories together. They understood what to keep secret between them. They understood when to cry. They understood that their moments together were temporary, but it did not keep them apart. They understood what it's like to be lonely and to miss the ones you love. They understood.
The waves crashed. The sky bloomed. Warm colors, from peach to tumeric to cyan, washed over a golden canvas of light. They were dazed and full of warmth. The girls welcomed the sun.