The quiet of the Pokémon Centre at 5:10 in the morning was a fragile thing. It was a silence measured in the slow, rhythmic sweep of a janitor's mop in the distant cafeteria, the gentle hum of the healing machines from the care room, and the steady, almost judgmental tick-tock of the large clock hanging over the main desk. The lobby was empty, a cavern of soft amber light and deep shadows, the usual bustle of trainers reduced to a few sleeping figures in the public lounge.
Ash sat hunched in one of the phone booths, the receiver pressed cold against his ear. He wasn't talking to anyone yet; the line just rang, a monotonous, unanswered pulse that echoed the heavy thud of his own heart. He had woken up with a jerk a few minutes ago, the acrid taste of fear in his mouth, his shirt damp with cold sweat. The nightmare had been a chaotic, suffocating collage of the day before: the glint of a Scyther's blade, the wet crunch of feasting Rattata, the vacant, staring eyes of a skull being picked clean. The images had slammed into him, blurring with the older, still-raw memory of the Raticate's cavern, and he had woken with a silent scream caught in his throat.
The violent movement had nearly woken Yellow. She had stirred beside him, a soft, troubled sound escaping her, and his own panic had instantly vanished, replaced by a fierce, protective instinct. He had gently rubbed her back, his hand moving in slow, steady circles until her breathing had evened out and she had settled back into a deeper, more peaceful sleep. He had watched her for a long moment, the moonlight catching the pale strands of her hair, before carefully slipping out of the bed. Pikachu had lifted his head, his dark eyes filled with a sleepy, questioning concern, but Ash had given him a soft pat, a silent order to stay and watch over her.
Now, in the sterile quiet of the phone booth, the fear was creeping back in. The ringing of the phone and the relentless tick-tock of the clock were the only sounds, a rhythm that felt like a countdown. He stared out at the empty lobby, at the clean, polished floors, and felt a dizzying sense of disconnect. How could this quiet, orderly world exist at the same time as the bloody, chaotic one he had just survived? How could both be real? He closed his eyes, and the images returned, sharp and brutal, and he knew he wouldn't be sleeping again tonight. The phone on the other end of the line finally clicked, and a familiar, sleepy voice answered, pulling him back to the present.
"Hello. Oooooaaakk Laboratoryyyy." The sleepy voice answered the phone just as the video receiver turned on, showing a dishevelled Professor Oak with heavy bags under his eyes, yawning mid-sentence. He blinked, trying to focus on the person who had called at such an ungodly hour, and then his eyes snapped wide open. The sleepiness vanished, replaced instantly by a sharp, stern focus that demanded answers.
"Ash," he acknowledged, his voice now crisp and clear.
"Hello, Professor," Ash replied, his own voice tired and scraped raw.
A few silent moments passed, the professor's piercing gaze seeming to travel through the screen, assessing the boy's pale face and the hollow look in his eyes. "I have been waiting for your call since yesterday," Oak began, his tone carefully neutral. "And I would ask if you were okay, but you are clearly not. I don't think whatever you sent me yesterday was the entire story."
"How do you..."
"Know?" Professor Oak's voice softened, taking on a more mellow, weary note. "Experience comes with its own blessings and curses, my boy." He paused, then asked, "Has Delia been informed?"
"No," Ash said quickly. "I haven't talked with mom."
The professor nodded, a look of grim understanding on his face. "Good. It's better to keep it that way for now. I'd rather not have her worry until we know exactly what we're dealing with. Before we discuss anything else," he said, leaning forward with a serious expression, "I want you to tell me everything that happened. From the beginning. Leave nothing out."
"Okay," Ash replied meekly.
And so, the story spilt out of him. He told Oak about helping someone—he kept Yellow's name out of it, a fierce, protective instinct he didn't question—catch their first Weedle. He explained how they had gotten lost, his voice tinged with self-blame. He described finding the caged Scyther, the desperate battle to free it, its immediate, feral attack, and the difficult choice to send it to the lab. His voice grew hollow as he recounted the rest: the sickening smell, the discovery of the bodies, the gruesome feast of the Rattata, and their frantic, desperate escape.
Professor Oak listened in complete silence, his expression growing grimmer with every word. He nodded reluctantly at Ash's decision to help another trainer, but a deep sadness entered his eyes when he heard about the carnage. When Ash's voice cracked while describing the bodies, the professor had to speak a few quiet, soothing words to get him to continue. But his attention sharpened, a glint of the researcher overriding the grandfatherly concern, the moment Ash mentioned the photos.
"Hold up a minute, Ash," he interrupted, his voice sharp. "Did you say you took a picture of their belongings?"
"Y-yeah," Ash stammered. "I did."
"Send them to me. Right now." It wasn't a request.
Ash fumbled with his Pokédex, his hands still shaking slightly, and sent the file. He watched the professor's eyes scan the images on his computer, a long, heavy sigh escaping the older man's lips.
"It was a good thing you took these, Ash," Oak said, his voice morose. "A very good thing. Remember this: if you ever come across a situation like this again, document everything. Do you understand?"
"Why?"
Professor Oak sighed again, the sound filled with a weary, cynical sadness that chilled Ash to the bone. "Because, my boy, you have no idea how close you came to having your journey end yesterday. Without these photos, you could have been convicted, and I would have been forced to revoke your trainer's license and confiscate your Pokémon."
"W-what? Why?!" Ash's voice was a shocked whisper.
"Because the preliminary report on the Scyther just came in," Oak explained, his tone now that of a grim teacher. "It wasn't just starving and injured, Ash. It was drugged and pumped full of illegal battle stimulants that were driving it mad, along with remnants of drugs that were keeping it docile. That alone is a serious crime. Add in the fact that it's a species not native to Viridian, and that you now also have a Chansey—another Pokémon exclusive to the Safari Zone—and any official would have immediately suspected you of being a poacher."
"B-but I did nothing wrong!" Ash protested, his voice cracking.
A terrifying silence stretched for several seconds. "...And it would not have mattered," Oak said finally, his voice devoid of any warmth. "It would have been your word against a mountain of circumstantial evidence. Without these photos, without the proof that you documented the scene before you caught the Scyther, your career as a trainer would be over. You might very well have ended up in a juvenile detention centre."
He let the words hang in the air, a cold, hard lesson in the realities of the world. "You are not the first trainer to find an injured, rare Pokémon under suspicious circumstances. But unlike you, most of them had no evidence to support their claims. And you must understand, Ash, the League, the public... they need someone to blame. They will always find a villain to carry the weight of their fear, even if it means crushing an innocent child to do it. As an adult under the law, you have to understand these things now, as much as I wish you didn't have to."
Oak sighed, the weight of the conversation seeming to age him. "Enough of this... depressing reality. We should talk about the Scyther."
"H-how is it?" Ash reluctantly asked.
"Better now, but it must be in rehabilitation for now, before I can send him to you, if you want to train him, that is, but unfortunately for you, he has become your responsibility now, whether you want it or not."
"What do you mean, Professor?"
"The Scyther is rare, even for its species, Ash. Have you not checked your PokéDex?" Professor Oak asked with a tone of confusion.
"N-no... I didn't." With that, Ash took out his PokéDex, Dexter, and looked up Scyther. "Here it says it is a male and has the ability, Steadfast. What makes it so rare?"
"Ash, do you know what abilities are?"
"Yeah. I know that. Isn't Steadfast supposed to be Scyther's ability?"
"Good, this will be easier to explain, then. To answer your question, yes and no. That ability does belong to Scyther, but it is even rarer in comparison to its other abilities. The abilities that Pokémon generally have are determined when they are born, but Hidden abilities are something else. They are the abilities that a Pokémon can have access to, but only have them in special circumstances and make them have a better edge in battles, so they are in high demand, but there are few of them. The chances of a Pokémon having this ability naturally are when they are hatched from an egg produced by their mother, who has a hidden ability as well, or their father mating with a Ditto. There is another way for a Pokémon to develop a Hidden Ability: the environment. The Pokémon can mutate their original abilities under extreme stress related to that ability. This is very hard to find or do."
"How so?"
Professor Oak adopted a teaching tone before speaking. "Taking your Scyther as an example, its ability is Steadfast. This is what we call a 'Hidden Ability' because it is so rare. Scyther's regular abilities—the ones they are commonly born with—are Swarm and Technician.
The ability of a Pokémon can be categorised as either a Regular Ability or a Hidden Ability. Most Pokémon are born with an ability that is common to their species, which is why it is called a Regular Ability. For Scyther, one such ability is Swarm. This ability makes Scyther's Bug-type attacks about 1.5 times stronger when it is in a pinch. It also makes wild Pokémon attack it more, as Scyther is a natural warrior that likes to prove its strength.
The Scyther line also has access to Technician as another regular ability, which increases the power of its weaker moves. The Scyther that have this ability tend to have a far braver nature, as they fight Pokémon stronger than themselves to hone their skills."
Ash scratched an itch on his neck while tapping his foot on the cold floor of the Pokémon Centre, eyes shifting here and there, barely able to keep his concentration on the lecture being given.
"Then there is the Hidden Ability that your Scyther has: Steadfast. This ability is so rare that it is almost unheard of within the Scyther species. Although a Scyther can possess this ability, there are no documented cases of one possessing it at birth. But its presence has been found in some; therefore, the theory is that these Scyther have developed this ability not as a natural-born ability, but as an ability that they had to create to survive their environments, which in turn made them far better able to survive the harsh conditions that had been imposed on them.
As the ability Steadfast raises the speed of the Pokémon whenever it flinches, it is theorised that the ability was brought out of them when the conditions of their survival were low. We believe that the Scyther developed this 'emergency' ability when the Pokémon they had challenged on their path to prove themselves as warriors joined forces to take down their common foe. They might have developed this ability to get out of that situation when they were outnumbered and outperformed by their enemies. This might have taken them decades of the same cycles before they got access to this, but as a warrior species, the ability to retreat was not warmly welcomed among them. Therefore, the Scyther with this ability might have been hunted down or thrown out of the group as shamed exiles. There are many possibilities, but the scientific community does not know for sure. We theorise that it is the same for the rest of the Pokémon as well.
Having a member of the species that has a hidden ability is rare, and I might not have access to it later, so I have to ask you to keep it with you for me to research on..."
"No." Ash coldly replied.
"No?" Professor Oak's voice turned cold as well. "You do know that I am your sponsor, right? I can have your trainer license disabled if I want, and I can still keep the Scyther with me. Are you still going to say no to me after this?"
With barely restrained anger and heat, Ash, who had gone through much in his time in Pewter, spat back, "Scyther is a Pokémon. He has been hurt, and I would not allow you to hurt him more than he has already been. Even if you take away my license, I will find a way to free him, even if it is the last thing I do."
Oak leaned back, eyes narrowing, fingers tapping on the desk, eyes distant. For a long moment, the line stayed quiet except for the faint static hum. He then leaned forward, fingers laced, his gaze unreadable. When he spoke again, the warmth was gone.
"You really think that you can control him when he is set out of his Poké Ball? He will end up killing you, brat."
"I can do it, and much better than you!"
"Really? You can give it to the rangers, or a breeder to take care of, you know?"
"I caught the Scyther, so it is my responsibility to help him, and I will do a much better job than you."
Professor Oak looked impassively at him for a few tense seconds with the same cold expression.
Ash's stomach sank. For a heartbeat, he thought the old man really meant it — that he'd lost his trust forever.
"I… I wasn't thinking of control," he said quietly. "I just didn't want to abandon him."
The silence stretched on before a ghost of a smile broke on his face, and his voice imperceptibly softened. "You pass."
Surprised, Ash asked, "P-pass? Pass what?"
"I had to be sure," Oak said finally. "People panic after something like that. They start saying what they think others want to hear. I needed to know if you meant it. This will be hard, you know. I was not joking about you giving him to the Rangers. The Scyther has been abused and mistreated. It is now your job as his trainer to help him open up to the people and comfort him."
The tension drained from Ash's body. He hadn't realised how tightly he'd been gripping the receiver until his fingers ached. Oak, noticing it too, gave a small, tired smile before letting the conversation drift to lighter things.
"What do you think about helping him open up to others again, Ash?"
"I-I..."
"Don't tell me you are scared now, are you?" The professor took a mocking tone. "Gary could have done it."
Hearing that name, all of his uncertainty vanished, before being replaced by a competitive fire, "No, I will do a much better job than he could ever do, just wait and watch!"
"Have you even got a badge till now? It is much harder for any new trainer to..."
"I won the Pewter Gym Badge, Professor. I will leave for Cerulean City via the Mount Moon."
Blinking at that, the Professor was surprised. He expected him to take a few more days, given that his starter is a Pikachu. Eh, who cares? He won; he won. There was nothing more special to it.
"Well, you seem to be behind then, the others have already left for Cerulean, and Gary has already won the badge."
"Gary does not count, Professor. He has a car. Why does he even have a license?"
"...Fair enough. He is an adult, of course, he can have a license. But when did he apply for it and get it?"
"...Professor, I can hear you, you know. Also, he is your grandson."
"Even I do not know what he does sometimes, and what goes on in his head. Well, at least he takes after me there." The old professor shamelessly admitted.
"...Right." Ash looked at the Professor with half-lidded eyes.
Ahem. The professor faked a cough to get his bearings and straightened to maintain his image of dignity, while Ash looked on unimpressed.
"Now, where were we? Ah yes. Scyther will take some days to recover before I can send him to you. Continuing from that, the pictures you sent me tell that the Scyther must have been bought illegally and was in the process of being transferred to the address mentioned in the photo to be sold. This must have been the work of poachers, even possibly Team Rocket. I will send it to the required authorities for investigation. You will, of course, receive a reward for the information, but it will be less, given that you captured the Scyther."
"Shouldn't I receive more money to help and raise Scyther, Professor?"
"Politics, my boy." The professor sighed.
"What has that got to do with anything?"
"You should," the professor sighed, the sound heavy with cynicism. "But politics is a messy business, my boy. When it comes to money and blame, the path of least resistance rarely favours the person who actually did the right thing. It's a hard lesson. The further you are from it, the better, otherwise your life will be ruined somehow."
"...Okay? So, what should I do now?"
"Didn't you say that you were going to Mount Moon to travel to Cerulean? I will have my assistant give the update when you reach the city, alright?"
"Hmm. Alright, I have to buy a few things before I set out for Mount Moon. Bye, Professor."
"Bye, Ash, and good to you as well. You need it after yesterday."
Ca-lick.
The phone cut out after the professor ended the call from his end.
Ash stared at the cold black surface of the screen, which reflected his face as it went from energetic to tired and weary. He didn't even hear him putting the receiver back in its place. He stayed there in the booth, replaying and reflecting upon the conversation he had with the professor just a few moments ago.
The distant murmurs of the occupants of the Centre came to him a few moments after, meaning that the trainers were waking up now and were about to flood the lobby and the cafeteria for breakfast.
"Better go wake her up," Ash said to himself as he got up from his place to go to his room.
He walked back to his room, the voices of other trainers just a background hum. His mind was a fuzzy debate between waking his sleepy occupants and collapsing for a few more moments of sleep. He wasn't sure which he'd choose, but the thought of rest was dangerously enticing.
Slowly opening the door, he saw something that made him stop in his tracks, and his sleep nearly went away. He slowly approached the person, who was sitting curled up on the bed and convulsing for a few moments, and Pikachu was trying his best to soothe her somehow. Placing a hand on her head as he sat on the bed, he got her attention by calling out, "Yellow?"
Yellow's body paused before her head slowly rose back up to show Ash that she was crying. Concerned, but tired, Ash asked, "Did something happen?" With that, Yellow pounced on him and hugged him, not letting him go as they fell on the bed. "Hey, hey, you are okay. I am here, aren't I? Did you think that I left you?"
He felt what he thought was a nod against his jacket. He was too tired. The softness of the bed made him feel sleepier. "Yellow?" Yellow stopped suddenly, meaning that he had her attention. "Can you wake me after a few minutes? I am really sleepy."
Feeling her nod against him, Ash gave in to the crushing weight of exhaustion. The last thing he was aware of was the feeling of being gently shifted, his head coming to rest on something soft and warm, before the world dissolved into darkness.
After a few moments, Yellow carefully slipped from his embrace. She repositioned him, letting his head come to rest on her lap. Her eyes met Pikachu's, and she raised a single finger to her lips, a silent promise to let Ash rest.