" Open wide." Brock encouraged as he held the tongue depresser in his hands.

Ash tried to protest, but only made a squeaking sound. Brock sighed and pried his mouth apart. " You're okay, Ash. You're okay."
.Brock peered into Ash's throat.

It was red.

" Ash, you lost your voice." Brock said calmly.

Ash froze.

" Because you were yelling yesterday when you and Pikachu were falling, remember?*

Ash sighed and nodded.

" Rest your throat " Brock advised. " Eat lots of jello and ice cream."

Ash could see how excited Misty was about the fact she could have ice cream

You can have all mine. Ash write. I don't need it

" Yes you do, hero."

Ash scribbled on the notepad, his handwriting hurried and a little shaky. I'm fine. he wrote before quickly tipping his hat down over his eyes, hiding his face.

Brock furrowed his brow as he read the note. "Ash, wait—"

But Ash didn't wait. He got up, pushing past Misty and Brock, and bolted out the door. His movements were rushed, his steps uneven. His hat was still pulled low over his face, a clear sign to Brock. The only time Ash ever did that was when he was trying to hide something—usually his tears.

Misty called after him. "Ash, come back! You need to rest!"

But Ash didn’t respond. His legs carried him out of the Pokémon Center and into the woods, his figure disappearing between the trees.

Brock sighed heavily, peeling off the white coat he'd been wearing in the Pokémon Center and tossing it aside. Underneath was his familiar green vest, the one he always wore when things got serious. He grabbed his medical kit from the table, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Uh oh,” Brock muttered, knowing all too well what Ash was doing. He didn't just run out like that unless something was seriously wrong.

"Where is he going?" Misty asked, worry creeping into her voice.

Brock looked toward the edge of the forest. "The only time Ash pulls his hat down like that is when he's crying."

Misty’s eyes widened. "Crying? Ash? But… why?"

Brock shook his head. "Something’s bothering him, and based on that sharp sound I heard coming from the forest…" He paused, listening again. Sure enough, a distant sob echoed from the woods. Brock's heart sank. "That sound. He’s out there crying, Misty."

Without another word, Brock dashed into the forest after Ash. His years of traveling had taught him how to navigate through rough terrain quickly, and within minutes he found himself deep in the woods. The further he went, the louder the quiet sobs became, each one tugging at his chest.

Brock finally reached a small clearing where Ash was slumped against a tree, his hat pulled so far down over his face that it completely shadowed his features. His shoulders were shaking, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps.

"Ash," Brock called softly, not wanting to startle him.

Ash didn’t respond. He didn’t even look up. His fingers were clutching his hat, knuckles white from the grip. Brock could see the tension in his friend’s body, the way he was trying so hard to hold everything in, but failing.

Brock knelt down beside him, keeping his voice gentle. "Ash, it's okay. You don’t have to hide from me."

For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, slowly, Ash let go of his hat, revealing his tear-streaked face. His eyes were red, and his lower lip was trembling as he tried to stop himself from breaking down again.

Brock's heart ached at the sight of his friend in so much pain. "You don’t always have to be strong, you know," he said softly. "It’s okay to cry."

Ash’s voice was gone, so he couldn’t speak, but his eyes were full of everything he wanted to say. There was frustration, fear, guilt, and sadness all mixed together. He mouthed something, but it came out as nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

"I know," Brock said, placing a hand on Ash’s shoulder. "I know you’re scared. You’ve been through a lot. But we’re here for you, Misty and I. You don’t have to go through this alone."

Ash clenched his fists, a tear slipping down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand, as if embarrassed by the emotion.

Brock stayed silent for a moment, giving Ash the space he needed to gather himself. Eventually, Ash reached for the notepad Brock had brought with him and scribbled a new note, his hand shaking slightly as he wrote.

I just wanted to be strong. For Pikachu. For you guys.

Brock read the note and sighed, placing a hand on Ash's back. "You are strong, Ash. Being strong doesn’t mean never getting hurt or never crying. It means getting back up, even when things are hard. And you do that every time."

Ash sniffled, pulling his hat back down a bit as if still trying to hide, but there was a faint nod of acknowledgment.

"Come on," Brock said gently. "Let’s get you back. Misty's worried sick about you, and you need to rest that voice. Plus, I’ve got some ice cream waiting for you at the Center."

Ash blinked, looking up at Brock in surprise. His mouth twitched, as if trying to smile, but he was still too tired to do so fully. He hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and slowly standing up, wobbling a bit on his feet.

Brock was quick to support him, steadying Ash with an arm around his shoulders. "I’ve got you," he reassured him. "Let’s go home."

As they slowly made their way back to the Pokémon Center, Ash didn’t say a word—mostly because he couldn’t. But the way he leaned into Brock’s support, no longer trying to run or hide, said more than words ever could.