The campfire crackled quietly beside the lake, casting soft orange light on Misty's face as she sat with her knees drawn to her chest, towel draped over her shoulders.
She wasn't watching the fire.She was watching Skylar.
He sat across from her, poking at the embers, laughing softly with Charmander curled at his feet and Gardevoir floating peacefully in the shadows behind him.
Misty had battled beside dozens of Trainers. Some skilled, some promising. But none like him.
Not back at the camp.
Not now.
She remembered that summer clearly—the way Skylar always stayed calm when others panicked, the way he planned three moves ahead, the way even the instructors respected him. He wasn't loud, or flashy. But when he gave a command, Pokémon listened. When he moved, others followed.
"He was the best one there. Everyone knew it."
She'd told herself back then that it didn't matter. That she'd catch up eventually. That he was just another rival on the long road to becoming a Gym Leader.
But now, sitting beside him again in the glow of moonlight and firelight, she knew the truth.
He wasn't just a rival.
He was the goal.
"Hey, Skylar…"
He looked up, blinking. "Yeah?"
She hesitated, then exhaled slowly. "I've been thinking… What if I traveled with you?"
His brow rose. "Huh?"
She met his gaze, trying to keep her tone light. "Not forever. Just for a while. You and I work well together—we always have. And honestly?"She smiled faintly. "I think I'd learn more walking beside you than chasing your shadow."
Skylar's expression shifted. There was warmth in his eyes… but hesitation too.
"Misty… I don't know if I can say yes right now."
Her stomach twisted.
"Why not?"
He looked down, voice low.
"Because I made a promise to Cynthia. That we'd walk separate paths. Grow apart, then meet again as equals… as Champions. I… I need to talk to her before I change that."
The silence that followed hit harder than any Gyarados roar.
Misty stood, brushing grass from her legs.
"I see."
Skylar rose too. "It's not about choosing—"
"No," she cut in gently. "I get it. You're loyal. You always have been."
She turned away for a moment, eyes glimmering—not with tears, but frustration. Not at him. At herself.
"I told myself I'd catch up. That I'd become strong enough to stand beside you. Maybe I'm not there yet."
Skylar's voice was soft. "You are."
"Then why did it feel like I had to ask permission?"
Neither said anything.
Suddenly, the lake behind them rippled.Then rumbled.Then bloomed with blue light.
They spun around just as Gyarados rose once more from the depths.
But this time, it was calm—serene.
It swam forward slowly, unthreatening, and gently set down two objects on the shore:Two large eggs, wrapped in kelp and glowing softly from within.
Skylar and Misty both stepped forward, stunned.
Gardevoir hovered forward and spoke into Skylar's mind:
"It offers them… in gratitude. A token of trust."
Skylar knelt down, brushing his fingers against one egg. It pulsed warmly.
"You're giving us… your children?"
Misty blinked, stunned. "This is… incredible."
"We'll take care of them," Skylar said reverently. "I swear."
Gyarados gave one slow nod and sank back into the deep, disappearing beneath the starlit water.
As they walked slowly back to their camp, each carrying an egg with awe and care, Misty glanced sideways at him.
"You don't have to answer tonight. About me traveling with you."
Skylar looked back, a little unsure, a little conflicted.
"Thank you," he said softly. "I'll… I'll think about it. And I'll be honest, whatever I decide."
Misty nodded, holding her egg close.
"That's all I need."
They sat quietly beside the fading fire, the eggs warming in their arms, the future stretching out—uncertain, but full of possibilities.