"Professor Oak, why are you in my house again?"
The old man chuckled, scratching the back of his head like he hadn't just casually broken into someone's home. "Ah, Ash! Just a friendly reminder—tomorrow's the big day! Don't be late picking your starter Pokémon!"
Then he was gone, vanishing down the path with the speed of someone who definitely wasn't supposed to be there.
Ash stood in the doorway, trying to figure out what had just happened.
Then he remembered.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow was everything.
His official start as a Pokémon Trainer. His first partner. The first step toward becoming a Pokémon Master.
And as for that whole "don't be late" thing? He wasn't worried. He'd already asked Natsume, one of the lab's assistants, to keep a spot open for him.
Problem solved.
—
The Next Morning, Oak Pokémon Research Lab
"WHAT?! THEY'RE ALL GONE?!"
Ash's voice practically shattered the windows. Outside, a flock of Pidgey exploded into the air in panic. Inside, he stood frozen in shock, his hands buried in his hair.
Professor Oak sighed as he flipped through a worn notebook. "Ash… you trusted Natsume to save a Pokémon for you? That boy sleeps until noon."
Ash groaned.
And then—
THWACK!
A Poké Ball nailed him right between the eyes.
"Ow! Natsume, again?! I'm not a Pokémon!" Ash rubbed his forehead and turned, scowling.
There in the doorway stood a tall, lean guy in track pants and a hoodie, his expression half-guilty, half-pleased. A Rotom Phone hovered at his shoulder, letting out little static cackles.
Natsume tilted his head. "What? Maybe this time it would've worked."
He stooped, scooping up the Poké Ball and sighing like a man who'd failed at something deeply important.
Thirty-two tries.
Thirty-two failures.
The Rotom Phone chimed.
[Ding! Research Log Updated: "Is Ash Ketchum a Humanoid Pokémon?"]
Conclusion: Negative.
Reward: Scratch-Off Lottery Ticket x1!
Natsume grinned. Ten tickets now. He could almost feel the luck building. Just one ritual away—a bubble bath, incense, and the infamous Lucky Socks and the system would have no choice but to reward him.
Then Ash's voice dragged him back to the present.
"Natsume. The Pokémon you promised to save for me?"
A blink.
Ash's eye twitched. "You didn't forget, right? Because Gary just strutted out of here with Squirtle and laughed at me."
"Oh, that," Natsume said, suddenly serious. He clasped his hands, voice low and mysterious. "Ash. The Pokémon I chose for you… It's not like the others. It's special."
Ash froze. His heart skipped.
Maybe…
A mechanical whirr cut through the moment. A panel in the floor slid open with a hiss, and a platform rose. Standing at its center: a yellow mouse Pokémon.
Ash's eyes lit up. "It looks strong!" He whipped out his Pokédex.
BEEP.
[Pikachu. The Electric Mouse Pokémon. Common in tall grass and urban areas.]
The smile on Ash's face went rigid.
"…Natsume. You said this was special."
There was no answer.
He turned.
Natsume was already halfway out the door.
Ash barely had time to blink before Pikachu's cheeks sparked violently.
The little rodent had heard the Pokédex entry.
"PIKA—!"
"Waitwaitwaitwait—"
—CHUUUUUUU!
Lightning exploded.
—
Moments Later
Ash lay on the floor in a crumpled heap. Pajamas fried. Hair vertical. Professor Oak was nearby, twitching slightly, smoke wafting from his lab coat.
"You…" Ash groaned, pointing a shaky finger at Natsume, "lied."
Natsume leaned against the wall, arms folded, head tilted with innocent curiosity. Poor Ash. Sweet kid. No clue what he'd just been handed.
[Ding! Special Subject Detected: "Ash's Pikachu."]
[S-Rank Research Task Unlocked!]
Of course, it was special. A Pikachu that could bend the laws of physics and roast deities on a bad day?
Absolute gold.
Natsume tossed Ash a fresh change of clothes with the casualness of someone who knew the chaos was only just beginning. "Pack up. I'm coming with you."
—
Half the town had gathered to see them off.
Ash's mom, Delia, was stuffing his arms with supplies—tent, rope, guidebook, rubber gloves.
"For the static," she said brightly.
"And Natsume's joining you!" she added, as if that were a fun little bonus.
Ash blinked. "Uh. Yeah, he mentioned."
The neighbors exchanged looks.
"Ash," one elderly woman said, gripping his shoulders. "Watch over him."
A man stepped forward solemnly. "Make sure people know he's from Sinnoh."
Ash stared. "You want me—a ten-year-old—to babysit a grown man?"
They just patted his back like he was marching off to war.
Then—
"Ash! Let's go!"
Natsume was already at the edge of town, backpack slung over one shoulder, grin wide.
For a moment, he paused. The breeze ruffled his hair.
Five years in Pallet Town. A stranger from Sinnoh was welcomed like one of their own.
One day, he promised, he'd return the favor.
This was the Pokémon world. Dreams came true here.
Even the weird ones.
***
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