Outcome

"You know," he says grossly in between overindulgent mouthfuls of food, "it's kinda weird how many times I've been kissed since I started training Pokemon."

His shocking commentary is enough to almost send your next gulp of iced tea through your pursed lips and splattering all over the table in front of you.

"E - excuse me?!"

Ash Ketchum had just returned from the distant Kalos region within the past twenty-four hours and had been welcomed back once again with open arms by his doting mother with a momentous home-cooked feast and a plethora of well-meaning guests.

Thankfully, he makes this crass, tactless statement towards the end of the meal, when Brock and Cilan are assisting Mrs. Ketchum with washing dishes, Max has been lulled into a doze by his fullness and is being carried over to the couch by his rather sympathetic older sister May, Dawn has carried Pikachu away so that he can play and chat with her Pokemon (governing over them so that they don't run too rampant and destroy the house), where she was accompanied by Iris.

Perhaps it isn't entirely outlandish of him to mention his kissing history. There had been much talk during dinner of his adventures from his most recent journey to another faraway land, conversation about the people he'd met there and the new Pokemon he'd seen, the troubled strangers he'd helped out of their miscellaneous predicaments, the exalted strategies he and his Pokemon had learned to utilize to earn their many victories in battle...

And perhaps it isn't entirely outlandish of him to seem so perplexed by the number of times someone had laid their lips on some part of his face either. You two used to travel around together, had spent a good three or so years side by side, and even you had to admit you couldn't think of anyone else (including yourself) who happened to receive so many obvious tokens of affection.

However you can't help your suspicious nature. You can't help it because you know that Ash Ketchum doesn't dwell on such oddly romantic aspects of his many adventures; at least, he never had before. In fact, you're quite certain that the only reason he has to be saying anything about this particular thing now is because...

"So," you begin, doing your best to clear the gravel that's lodged in your throat, "who kissed you while you were in Kalos?" You can't help wanting to confirm what you already assume to be the case.

My, but you sound so... so nonchalant about the heartrending matter unraveling itself before you.

"Huh? Oh, uh," he stutters mid-reply, looking equal parts bashful and proud for some reason, "just... someone. A friend."

You pray to whatever Poke-deity is most merciful that you're not sweating obvious bullets over this tidbit of information. For all of Ash's heroic acts, for all of his acquaintances over the years, you're sure that him calling this most recent pursuer (thought he may not see it in such a way) "a friend" means something more. And Ash Ketchum had only mentioned three particularly close friends when chatting incessantly earlier about his exploits in Kalos.

"So that girl named Serena kissed you?"

"Mwah! B - but how'd you guess that?!"

You consider telling him how evident the answer was based on what you'd learned about this girl (and, truthfully, Ash's other recent companions) over the past two hours. You're almost compelled to spell out Serena's feelings to Ash but a small yet ferociously loud part of you is reminding the rest of you how inappropriate that would be.

Ash has started rambling aloud in the wake of your subdued quiet.

"... I mean, it's just happened a lot I think, especially compared to everyone else I've met. S'not like I asked them or anything but I just figure... I've never seen it or heard anyone talk about it happening to them..."

"So did you like it?" you have the guts to ask, though your heart plummets into your tummy and begins to corrode away among the acid bubbling there as you're forced to wait for him to form a coherent response to your inquiry.

"I... did I...?" he sputters. He doesn't have food in his mouth this time; a small mercy, considering. "You... you're asking if..."

Something changes in his expression, a firm transition of emotion from awe and confusion to empowered and unbridled curiosity, and he begs a question you never saw coming in response.

"What's it matter to you, Mist?"