Cashe groaned and opened his eyes. His face was on fire and there was something pressing up against his head and chin. He cracked his eyes open. A man was standing over him, wearing a lab coat. A doctor? He blinked, everything was still fuzzy and he couldn’t make out any details beside a few colorful shapes that seemed to be moving around the room.
“How are you feeling?” The man’s voice was steady and confident, but had a hint of caution in it.
“I feel like someone took a sander to my face,” Cashe moaned, sitting up.
“Easy there,” the man said, “My granddaughter said you got attacked.”
“I don’t know about attacked, but I must have hit my head,” Cashe said, “I had a crazy dream.”
“I bet you did,” the man said. His blurry shape lowered next to Cashe. He must have sat down. “Can you tell me what the last thing you remember is?”
“Yeah, sure,” Cashe said, rubbing his face to find out what was putting pressure on it. A bandage. He must have really hit his head hard. “I was getting garlic for my wife. She was making pasta for dinner since she gets off earlier than I do. I was walking through the park…” Cashe hesitated. It must have been there where he hit his head. What came next made no sense to him.
“Where were you when this happened, do you know?” the man said. Cashe’s vision was improving. He could make out the man now. He was an older man, in his fifties or sixties, probably of Asian descent, but it was hard to tell. He had the look of a man who exercised a lot in his youth and only slowed down as he got too old to continue. Solid and confident. He was sitting in a chair next to Cashe’s bed, with a straight back and wearing a serious expression.
“The park,” Cashe said, “Emery Park. I was going to Choices.”
“Good, good,” the man nodded to himself and wrote something down on a clipboard, “And what city were you in?”
“What city?” Cashe said, confused. What did he mean in what city? Vancouver, obviously.
Oh.
It was a concussion test. That was just as obvious.
“Vancouver.” Cashe said. He blinked again. What was that moving behind the man.
“And your ID said your name is Apollo Cashe, is that correct?”
“Yeah, but just call me Cashe, everyone does,” he grinned and flinched as the action sent a spike of pain through his face, “Even my wife.”
“Your wife,” the man muttered. It was a sorrowful sound.
“Is there something wrong with my wife?” Cashe kicked himself up off the bed, stumbling across the room and into one of the moving objects. It was soft and round.
“Skree!” it chimed.
Cashe looked down, the thing now coming into focus. It was an egg. A giant, pink, warm egg, wearing a nurse's cap.
“Chansey! Cha!” It cried.
Cashe stumped back, stumbling until he collapsed again on the bed. The egg spoke. And had a face. And frills. And another giant egg in a pouch like a kangaroo. The whole thing was made so much worse by the fact that he recognized it.
“That’s a Chansey,” Cashe said, “I’m hallucinating. I hit my head and I’m hallucinating a pokemon.”
“Do they not use Chansey to help with injuries in Vancouver?” The man said.
“Chi!” The Chansey waddled across the room and plucked the egg from its pouch, placing it in Cashe’s lap. “Chan-sey chan!” It said, nodding seriously at him.
“She wants you to eat it,” the man said with a small smile, “Careful, it’s soft-boiled.”
“W-what’s going on here?” Cashe said. The egg was soft and warm in his hands.
“Why don’t you take a bite out of that egg and then we can talk,” the man said, his tone placating, “It will help you calm down.”
“I don’t want this egg, I want to see my wife!” Cashe made to put the egg on the bed but stopped at the furious look he got from the Chansey. Best not to upset that…thing. “Who are you? Why am I here?”
“Just take a bite, I promise it will be good,” the man said, “then we can talk.”
“Why are you so insistent on me eating this egg?” Cashe shouted. He shot up from the bed again. If the man wasn't going to talk to him, he was leaving.
He bolted towards the door, but in his weary state he tripped over his on foot and fell face first into the floor, crushing the soft egg beneath him. It was soft boiled indeed, and splattered everywhere, shooting yolk up his nose all over the floor, in his mouth and, and,
...and it was delicious. It might have been the best thing he had ever eaten. It was rich and creamy and felt like he was eating a hug. He felt himself relax as he swallowed the warm yolk and spongy white down.
“Chan!” Chansey trilled happily and patted him on the back of his head, burying his face further in egg.
The man sighed behind him. “Chansey, could you please fetch Annie and have her come here? Make sure she brings her Sentret.”
Cashe felt a firm hand on his shoulder as the man lifted him to his feet.
“Feeling a bit better now?”
Cashe nodded and sat back down on the bed, dripping warm yolk all over it.
“Let’s start with a proper introduction then. I am Professor Blue Oak.”
“Blue? Like the color blue? Like Blue and Red. Like Blue Oak as in the grandson of Professor Oak?” Cashe said. Someone was screwing with him. His wife maybe. That was definitely just someone in a bad costume, right? That Weedle was…Cashe chose to ignore the Weedle for now. And the Pidgey. And the hyper-realistic ichor. He had just been hit on the head after all. He might be misremembering things . “Jen?” He called out, “If you’re in the next room, this isn’t funny okay? I’m seriously freaking out here!”
“You can’t be from too far out,” Oak muttered to himself, “if you recognize my name.”
“Did Jen put you up to this?” Cashe said to ‘Blue’. “Tell her to show herself.” He looked around, trying to find a camera, “Jen, this is great but let's go home!”
Blue pinched his brow and sighed deeply, “Jen’s not around, Mr Cashe.”
“Just Cashe, please,” Cashe said automatically, “And why isn’t she around?”
‘Oak’ stayed silent, a look of contrition on his face as he mulled over an answer. A little girl walked into the room. The same little girl he spoke to earlier. No Chansey though. Guess he knew who was in that costume.
Chansey followed her through the door.
Oh. No, okay, there was someone else in the Chansey costume.
“Annie, sweetheart, can you please have Sentret use Tidy Up?” Oak said as the young girl walked in the room.
“Okay!” The little girl took a pokeball from the pocket of her overalls. Cashe relaxed slightly more. It was way too small, not even close to realistic.
She pressed the button on the front and it expanded in her hand, as if by magic.
Cashe stared.
“What was that?” He said.
Oak ignored him. The little girl, Annie, tossed the pokeball. It popped open and the room filled with a bright, red light. The light cascaded into the center of the room, shrinking down into a bright white shape that eventually darkened into a familiar form. It was short and round and brown and black with a big bushy tail. It looked like a raccoon designed by a children’s toy company.
It looked like a Sentret come to life.
“Sentret, Tidy Up!” Annie said with enthusiasm.
The little creature whipped its tail back and forth in front of him, kicking up a mess of dust, egg, and dirt that Cashe didn’t even know was there. It all rose into the air in a giant cloud and slowly disappeared.
The room was left spotless. No, that wasn’t the right descriptor. The room literally sparkled.
He turned to Oak, speechless. Oak just gave him a small smile.
“Okay, thank you Annie,” Oak said, waving his granddaughter away.
“Blue?” Cashe said as the little girl walked out of the room. The Chansey stayed behind. She already had another egg in her pouch. “You said your name was Blue, right?”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“Yes, you seemed to know something about me, remember?”
Cashe turned towards the man, his eyes wide and haunted, “Help.”
***
The next few hours were a daze for Cashe. He learned next to no information, almost everything Oak said slipped in one ear and out the other. He was in a world where pokemon were real. It wasn’t possible. He was hallucinating. Or dead. Or something.
Anything.
Please.
Jen wasn’t here.
That was the worst part. If Jen were here, it wouldn’t matter. He could do anything with her, he could be happy anywhere. But she wasn’t here.
And Oak said he would likely never see her again.
Cashe was vaguely aware of other things Oak said. He was in Kanto. Pallet Town. He didn’t need to worry, he would be taken care of. Some people from Hoenn wanted to talk to him.
Everything else blew by him, leaves flying with the wind. He was aware he ate again, someone had spoon-fed more of the delicious egg into his mouth. He remembered being told he needed to swallow. Someone had made a pun, a dirty joke about Swellows. Because that was a thing now. Something he had to live with.
Cashe didn’t remember leaving the room, nor did he remember falling asleep, but he woke up in another strange bed. This room was sparse, just a small bed and a small dresser in the corner, beside it. The dresser had his wallet and phone on it. Cashe checked his phone. Dead. Of course.
Beside the door was a full length mirror. Cashe rolled out of bed to the tune of his groaning stomach and planted himself in front of the mirror.
He barely recognized the person looking out from it. The person was wearing his wrinkled and filthy suit, so it was probably him, but he didn’t remember having such dark circles under his eyes, or a scruffy five o’clock shadow. Or hair quite so dirty. Or a face quite so forlorn. Did he really look like that? And where were his bandages? Shouldn’t his face be scabbed over or something?
Well there was nothing he could do about it now.
Cashe poked his head out of his room, finding a hall and a small bathroom in it. He made quick use of it, both the toilet and the shower working like they did back home, and the shower at least made him feel marginally better.
He stepped out of the bathroom and wandered down a short hall following the rich smell of cooking food to a small kitchen. The professor was cooking an enormous pile of eggs in a pan on the stove and an older woman with auburn hair wearing a deep blue set of robes was sitting at the kitchen table. Through a window overlooking a small backyard, Annie was throwing rocks at a stump, trying to get her Geodude to mimic her.
“Good morning, Mr Cashe,” the woman greeted him with a smile. Her voice was rough but light, like she spent years using it to its fullest extent and now it had all but given up.
“Just Cashe,” Cashe mumbled.
Oak turned around, pan of eggs in hand. “Cashe, you’re just in time for breakfast. Chansey was kind enough to give me one of her eggs, so get ready to eat.” Oak nodded to the auburn woman, “I may have mentioned it before, but Cashe, this is my wife, Misty.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Cashe nodded to her with a forced smile, “You might have mentioned her, but truth be told, everything from yesterday is a blur.” Cashe paused and turned back to Misty. “Did you say Misty? Like the gym leader?”
“You’ve heard of me?” Misty smiled, “Blue, I thought you said he was from somewhere far away.”
“I’m a bit fuzzy on the details myself,” Blue said as Cashe sat down in an empty seat at the table.
“I thought you hated Blue,” Cashe said. Was that right? It felt right.
“I disliked his brother,” MIsty said with a diplomatic smile, “I never hated Blue.”
“Brother?”
“Gary,” Blue said. Gary Oak was Blue’s brother? They were both Professor Oak’s grandson, so that made sense. Cashe just assumed they were the same person. “And like hell you didn’t. You should have seen her when we first met.”
“Stop. I didn’t hate you. I was just upset you beat me,” Misty said, “Anyone would be upset after a loss. And you weren’t exactly a gracious winner.”
“I may have had some issues with manners,” Blue admitted. He stepped away from the stove, bringing with him a pan stacked with eggs. He distributed them to three separate plates and passed them out.
“These smell amazing, thank you, honey,” Misty said.
Cashe ate a small mouthful. He could tell they were good, but he wasn’t in the mood to eat. Still he forced himself to shovel the eggs down.
“They are good, thanks.” Cashe said in a hollow voice.
Misty and Blue exchanged a look.
“You probably have a lot of questions,” Blue hedged.
“Jen was the cook at home. She had a real talent for it,” Cashe poked at his eggs, “I never really figured out how to make anything other than cereal.”
“She sounds lovely,” Misty said with a soft smile.
“I need to get home, Blue,” Cashe looked up from his plate. Blue had a pinched expression on his face, “I don’t know how I got here, but you have to send me back.”
“Listen, Mr Cashe. Cashe,” Blue put down his utensils with a small clatter, “I need you to listen closely to me. There is nothing we can do. I need you to understand that humans here do not have the power or the technology to cross dimensions or break the barriers of time or travel vast distances through space. We just can’t.”
“THEN HOW AM I HERE?” Cashe was on his feet with a crash of his plate and a clattering of his chair as it toppled to the floor. Outside, Annie screamed at the sudden outburst and started to cry. Misty frowned at him and got up from the table to comfort her granddaughter.
Cashe stared at Annie for a second as she sobbed and ran into her grandmother’s arms.
“Sorry,” he sighed. He righted his chair and sat down, “Sorry.”
“It’s quite alright, Cashe. I can’t imagine how upset you must be,” Blue leaned back in his chair, content to wait until Cashe was ready to talk.
Cashe took a deep breath, steadying himself. The outburst was unnecessary. Blue and Misty had taken him in, fed him, tended to his face, which no longer burned. Actually, he was unclear on how his face was injured in the first place.
It didn’t matter. He shouldn’t have yelled.
But he wasn’t going to see Jen again.
He was never going to grow old with her.
He was never going to see their kids grow up, never going to see his family or friends again.
He was alone.
“How did I get here?” Cashe said after a long silence.
“We believe it was a pokemon that brought you to us,” Blue paused for a moment to give Cashe a moment to speak up. Cashe only glowered at him, so he continued, “Initial readings out of the Mossdeep Space Center suggest that it may have been the work of a rare pokemon called Jirachi.”
Cashe’s frown deepened as he stared down absently at his eggs, “Could Jirachi send me back?”
Blue wore an uncomfortable expression, “You have to understand, very few people even know Jirachi exists.”
“Could it send me back?”
“Theoretically, yes,” Blue said carefully, “But it’s complicated. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
“I am a pretty long way from hopeful, Professor.”
Blue’s frown deepened, “Rare events have woken Jirachi from its slumber centuries early, and perhaps permanently. Your chances to find it are much better than before.”
“And where can I find it?”
Blue offered Cashe a sad smile, “If anyone knew that they would be the most sought after person on the planet. You’re not the only one who is going to be looking for Jirachi now.”
Cashe slammed his hands on the table causing the dishes to jump in place with a loud clang. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax, “I thought you said almost no one knew it existed.”
Blue gave him a wary glance and nodded, “That’s true, however, those that do are amongst the most powerful and influential people on the planet. And when word spreads that Jirachi is awake, they will all scramble to find it.”
Cashe stared at Blue fuming with frustration, “Why?”
“Jirachi is the wish pokemon. It grants wishes to its friends. Any wishes.” Blue gave Cashe a serious look, “Even if you somehow found Jirachi before anyone, you would have to befriend it while keeping the fact that you found it a secret. You would also have to hope it hadn’t already granted all its wishes.”
“It has a set amount? I thought it was the wish granting pokemon?” Cashe snorted.
“Three every thousand years, according to legend,” Blue said, “And there are mixed reports whether it has already used any. At the very least we can say it used one to get you here.”
“Who the hell would wish me here?” Cashe growled.
“It could be anyone. It could be a pokemon. It could have been the whim of Jirachi itself.”
Cashe took a deep breath forcing himself to let go of his frustration. The breath didn’t work either of the previous times but why stop now? More importantly, why him? Why not some kid who would love this, why not someone who didn’t have anything to lose?
“So to get home, I just need to find a mythical pokemon, befriend it, hope no one finds out, hope it hasn’t tossed its power aside on a whim, and wish to go back home?”
Blue gave a grim smile, “And hope no one kills it.”
Cashe snapped his head to Blue.
“The ability to grant any wish is more than a little dangerous,” Oak explained, “Not everyone wants to find Jirachi to make use of it.”
“Right. And hope no one kills it.”
“Or you.”
“Or me.” Cashe took a deep, shaking breath. He met Blue’s eyes for the first time in their conversation. They were cool, confident, and calculating. Cashe’s own burned with fiery determination. “Where should I start looking?”
***
Blue lay in bed, reading a book. It was a thick tome detailing the Ultra Beast phenomenon that cropped up in Alola a few years back. It wasn’t the most interesting read, but he was hoping to find something relevant in it related to Cashe’s situation.
“Our guest has been locked in your study the entire day.”
Blue looked up over his reading glasses. Misty stomped into their room with a scowl on her face.
“I gave him leave to do so,” Blue said innocently. He slipped a bookmark between the pages and set his book down on the bedside table, “And I’ve got Spooky in his shadow to make sure he doesn’t get up to any trouble.”
“He seems to think he can track down Jirachi and have it send him back,” Misty crossed her arms, body language demanding an explanation, “And I don’t see how putting a Gengar at his back is going to fix that delusion.”
“It’s good he has a goal,” Blue said lightly, “It will help him get past the shock and sorrow he is currently facing.”
“And when he realizes that what he’s attempting is impossible?” Misty huffed and got roughly into bed beside him.
“I’m hoping it won’t matter any longer.” Blue said.
“You’re hoping? How is letting a man live out his deranged dream of returning going to help him in any way?”
“It will help him plenty,” Blue kept his voice firm. Misty would happily argue with him all night if he gave a single inch of ground. It was a lesson learned well from many years of a happy marriage, “Think about what he needs in order to achieve that goal.”
“A Giratina-cursed amount of resources, funding from the League,” Misty said, “He doesn’t have that.”
“So barring that, what would he need?”
“You know I hate it when you do this, Blue. Stop beating around the bush and just say what you think.”
“He would need to go on an adventure,” Blue said, looking over at his wife, “He would need a team of capable pokemon, connections, special privileges, social influence, and people to support his journey. Not to mention, he would still probably need a good amount of resources.”
“He has none of that.”
“No. But if he wants to go back home he will need to get it.” Blue said, “The immediately obvious reality of his situation is that he will not be able to get out of it alone.”
Misty’s frustration slowly fell from her face.
“Oh,” she slapped Blue on the shoulder, “Why didn’t you just tell me you were tricking him into becoming a trainer?”
“I was going to,” Blue said, rubbing his shoulder. That woman was a lot stronger than she looked, “But then you started yelling at me.”
Misty huffed and turned her head away, “You still have a problem. What’s keeping him from killing himself along the way? Catching pokemon isn’t easy, you know. Or safe.”
“Have you forgotten? Emilia is coming home.”