Pokemon: A different Ash

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At this time, Brock and Misty stood beside Ash, observing the surroundings. They didn't notice the subtle, eerie glow in Ash's eyes—faintly red and almost otherworldly. 

"Ash! Ash!" 

Misty's voice snapped him out of his trance. Ash blinked, shook his head slightly, and the strange glow in his eyes disappeared. 

"What's wrong?" Ash asked, his tone curious yet calm. 

"What's wrong with *you*, Ash?" Misty questioned, concern lacing her voice as she studied his reaction. 

"It's nothing! What's the matter?" Ash replied casually, casting a quick glance back at Maiden Rock before turning his attention to her. 

"I heard there's going to be a temple fair at Maiden's Peak soon! Let's go!" Misty exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over. 

The cheerful chatter from people nearby had caught Misty's interest, and the mention of the upcoming festival had her eager to attend. 

"Oh, really? That sounds fun! Let's head to the Pokémon Center first, though. We can join the festival later in the evening," Ash suggested, nodding thoughtfully. 

While the festival had already begun, Ash figured the nighttime atmosphere would make it more enjoyable. Besides, their Pokémon were still recovering from the earlier skirmish with Tentacool at the pier. 

"Good idea!" Misty agreed enthusiastically, and the trio began walking toward the Pokémon Center. 

Meanwhile, back near Maiden Rock, a wisp of black smoke swirled through the air. It gathered and condensed into a shadowy figure, flickering with a purple flame akin to Will-O-Wisp. At the center of the flame floated a black sphere, its massive white eyes gleaming, and a wide, toothy grin set below them. 

Any Trainer would immediately recognize this Ghost Pokémon: Gastly. Its mischievous presence could easily send shivers down spines, especially after dark. 

"What's going on?" Gastly spoke, its voice echoing eerily as it appeared beside Maiden Rock. 

If anyone had witnessed this scene, they would have been as astonished as Misty and her friends had been the first time they encountered a talking Meowth. 

"That boy… he… he seems to be able to see me!" A voice emanated from the figure of a girl encased within Maiden Rock. Her tone wavered, uncertain but distinct. 

"Him? Are you sure?" Gastly asked, its curiosity piqued. 

"No… it's not him," the girl murmured, shaking her head slightly. She had been waiting at Maiden Rock for centuries, holding on to the hope that her husband would return. Two thousand years had passed, yet her soul lingered, tethered to this place by the strength of her love and sorrow. 

Deep down, she knew her husband could no longer be alive. Even so, she could not let go of her memories or her faith. 

"Honestly, with all due respect, humans don't live that long," Gastly said gently. "Even if he became a Ghost, he may have already moved on or been reincarnated by now." 

Gastly hesitated to push the matter further. It understood that some truths were hard to accept, even for a spirit. 

"No. Even if he has been reincarnated, I would still recognize him," the girl said firmly, her determination unwavering. No matter how much time had passed or how many lifetimes he had lived, she believed she would know him when they met again.

"But even if you recognize him, what will you do? Perhaps by then, you'll still be you, but he will no longer be the same person," Gastly questioned, its tone laced with a rare mixture of curiosity and skepticism. 

If he had truly reincarnated, he would have become someone entirely new, with no memory of her or their past. 

"I've thought about that," the girl replied softly. "If he hasn't reincarnated, we can be reborn together. But if he has, I won't disrupt his current life." 

Her voice was steady, though tinged with a quiet sadness. She had considered the possibility that her fiancé might have been reincarnated, taking on a new form, a new life. Yet she was confident she would recognize him, no matter the circumstances. She also accepted the truth that reincarnation would make them different people, and she had no intention of interfering with his happiness. 

"As I said, if we're both still ghosts, we'll move on together. But if he's already reincarnated, I'll watch over him from afar and fulfill the longing I've carried for all these years," she explained, her words filled with resolute devotion. 

Gastly floated silently for a moment, pondering her response. "Ah… alright. Since you've already made up your mind, I won't argue anymore. I'll take my leave!" 

Though Gastly found her unwavering faith foolish, it couldn't help but admire her determination. Maybe it was this steadfastness that had brought her back to Maiden Rock every year for centuries, waiting for the impossible. 

"Thank you. But… that boy… he seems to be able to see me. Will that be alright?" the girl asked, gratitude in her tone, though her concern lingered. 

"Don't worry. I'll handle it. I'm off now!" Gastly reassured her before drifting toward the pier. 

"Let's see if I can find a suitable candidate!" Gastly murmured, floating lazily above the dock. 

It scanned the area, observing the crowd with a mischievous glint in its eyes. 

"Hmm… not this one. Nope, not that one either," Gastly mused as it floated along. Then, its gaze settled on a figure. 

"Oho! This one has potential! That sly squint—absolutely charming!" Gastly declared, locking its sights on Brock. 

"Ah-choo!" 

Brock suddenly sneezed, interrupting their walk. 

"Brock, are you okay? Did you catch a cold?" Misty asked, glancing at him with concern. 

"No, no! It's probably just some sand kicked up by the sea breeze," Brock replied, sniffing slightly. He instinctively checked his condition—years of caring for his younger siblings had made him highly attuned to illnesses. He felt fine. 

"Alright, but if you feel anything off, don't push yourself," Misty advised, her concern lingering. Brock usually looked after them, and she didn't want him overexerting himself. 

"Don't worry, I'm fine—" Brock paused mid-sentence, shivering slightly. He felt a chill in the air and turned toward the pier. 

There, standing by the water's edge, was a beautiful figure. Her long hair flowed gracefully in the breeze, her presence ethereal. 

Brock froze, his eyes widening as if entranced. "What… a beauty!" he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with awe. 

"What are you mumbling about?" Misty asked, unable to hear him clearly. 

"Ah! No, nothing!" Brock stammered, snapping out of his daze. He turned back to look again, but the figure had vanished.