Austin woke up to the soft murmur of "Pika," his mind groggy and heavy with sleep. Blinking, he found Pikachu staring at him, the Pokémon's big eyes practically glowing in the dim morning light.
"A Pikachu?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes as he tried to clear the fog from his brain. Everything felt strange, off-kilter, like he was stuck in that weird space between waking and dreaming. But then it hit him, like a bolt of lightning—yesterday wasn't a dream.
Holy shit, yesterday wasn't a dream!
He shot upright, his heart pounding in his chest. Pikachu yelped, tumbling off the bed with a surprised squeak. The sharp smell of ozone filled the air as Pikachu sparked, his cheeks crackling with static.
"S-Sorry, buddy!" Austin stammered. "You startled me. Did you need something?"
Pikachu looked up at him, his little face scrunched up. "Pika Pi," he murmured, rubbing his belly. It didn't take a genius to figure out what that meant.
"Right. You're hungry." Austin let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Give me a minute to wash up, and then we'll get some breakfast."
He glanced over at Spearow, who was still curled up, its wing draped over its body like a little feathery blanket. For such an aggressive Pokémon, it looked ridiculously cute when it slept. A small smile tugged at Austin's lips, but it faded quickly as soon as the cold water of the shower hit him like a slap, shocking his system awake. He stood there, letting it cascade over him, trying to process everything.
Why was he here? How did he get pulled into this world? Was he Ash Ketchum, or was he still himself, just dropped into Ash's shoes? The questions swirled in his mind, colliding and tangling until he felt dizzy. He tried to ground himself, focusing on the icy sting of the water, the sound of it hitting the tiles, the cold air nipping at his skin.
"No need to worry over questions you won't get answers to," he murmured, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears. "Just… go with it. One step at a time."
This was his life now, and every decision he made had real consequences—for him and for the Pokémon he was responsible for.
"Let's just enjoy this journey until you get to Sinnoh and meet God," he joked, a dry laugh escaping him. The absurdity of it all washed over him, the thought of meeting Arceus, of confronting the being that was supposedly the creator of this world. It was insane, impossible, but so was everything else that had happened to me.
He sighed, the cold water doing little to clear the fog of confusion from his mind.
Austin stood there, water from the shower long gone, his skin still clammy and cold as he stared at his reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror, trying to piece together the timeline. How long would it take to reach Sinnoh? The question gnawed at him.
If the series progression was anything to go by, and assuming Ash does age—God, that's a big if—he'd be around sixteen during the Sinnoh arc. That meant he might be living in this world for about six years before he could meet up with Arceus, assuming that's even possible.
Six years. The thought alone was enough to make his head spin. Six years of navigating this place, of trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do. Six years of being someone he wasn't.
But then, how canon were the movies to the anime? If they didn't line up, that could throw all his calculations out the window.
"Shit!" Austin swore, louder than he intended, his voice bouncing off the bathroom walls.
He pressed his forehead against the cool tiles, the chill seeping through his skin, grounding him for just a moment. "I'll deal with this when I get to Sinnoh," he muttered, trying to convince himself to let it go. "Let's just enjoy these six years away from school and studying and…"
His voice trailed off as a familiar ache tightened in his chest. His family. How would they cope without him? Did they even know he was gone? Or had his disappearance been smoothed over, another glitch in the system that no one noticed?
He could see their faces in his mind, his parents, his friends—people he never thought he'd be away from. And now, he was here, in some alternate reality with no idea if he'd ever see them again. Would they even recognize him if he came back? Would he be the same person?
What if he never made it back?
The thought hit like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing harder against the tiles, as if he could push the anxiety out through sheer force of will.
"Don't think about it. Just… don't," he whispered to himself, but it was no use. The questions kept coming, relentless and unanswerable.
And then, another thought slipped through the cracks, something he hadn't considered but now couldn't ignore.
Wait. I'm ten now, but by the time I hit Sinnoh, I'll be sixteen. That means… going through puberty all over again.
His eyes flew open, the realization almost comical if it weren't so horrifying. Going through puberty was bad enough the first time—awkward growth spurts, random voice cracks, the whole nine yards. Now, he had to do it again, while fighting off Team Rocket and trying not to screw up the timeline too badly?
Austin let out a hollow laugh, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom. "Great. Just great." As if being stuck in a world where Pokémon could destroy cities wasn't enough, now he had to deal with hormones and zits all over again.
He leaned back from the tiles, running a hand through his still-damp hair. His reflection in the mirror was a stranger—wide eyes, messy hair, and a hint of fear that he couldn't quite hide.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. One step at a time. Get through today, then tomorrow. Don't think too far ahead. Six years was a long time, but he didn't have to face it all at once.
He could figure this out. Somehow.
----------------------------------------
As Austin walked through the Pokémon Center, he couldn't help but feel a bit awkward. He could sense a few trainers glancing his way, their eyes flicking between him and the Spearow perched on his head. Some looked curious, others amused.
"Oh, good morning," Nurse Joy greeted him, her voice bright and cheerful as always. But then her gaze shifted up to his head, her smile twitching just a bit.
Right. Spearow had decided his head was the perfect nest. Because of course it did.
"I don't think Spearow is going to pay you for that nest," Nurse Joy said, her laugh light and genuine. Austin couldn't help but smile, even though he felt like a complete idiot.
"Yeah, well, rent's overdue," he muttered, scratching his head lightly, trying not to disturb his new headwear. Pikachu tapped at his feet, looking up at him impatiently.
"I'm getting to it, buddy," he murmured, then turned back to Nurse Joy. "Sorry, I'm still new to this whole Pokémon trainer thing."
"Don't worry," she said kindly. "You'll do great. Just be patient. Pokémon, like all of us, have their own personalities. Some are easier to work with, and some are a bit… more challenging."
"Thanks," Austin said, genuinely reassured. It was nice to hear, even if he still felt like he was stumbling through all of this. "I actually had a few questions."
Just then, he felt a sharp tug on his hair. "Spearow, I'm going to go bald if you keep pulling, and then you won't have a nest," he half-joked, half-pleaded.
Spearow paused, as if considering his words, then tucked its wing beneath its beak in a surprisingly thoughtful gesture. For a moment, Austin felt like he was negotiating with a very demanding, very tiny landlord.
"What were your questions?"
Austin cleared his throat, trying to remember what he'd meant to ask. "Right. I wanted to know where the cafeteria is and if I can use the kitchen to make some snacks for my Pokémon."
"The cafeteria is down the hall to the left," she explained, "and as for the kitchen, you'll need to bring your own ingredients and be in the presence of a slave— I mean, an intern." Her smile broadened, and the three of them—Austin, Pikachu, and even Spearow—sweatdropped at her slip.
"Got it," Austin said slowly, processing her instructions and trying not to imagine what poor intern had to endure.
"How's your back, by the way?"
"It still hurts a bit, but I'll manage," he replied, rolling his shoulders slightly to emphasize the point. The pain was manageable, but it was there.
"I'll send you some pain relief ointment," she offered, and Austin nodded gratefully.
He was about to head off when she stopped him with another piece of news. "Before you go, I wanted to let you know that your Rattata will be ready to pick up in about an hour, after Nurse Chansey checks her over to make sure everything's okay."
"Thanks," he said, feeling a mix of relief and guilt. Rattata had been through a lot, and it was his fault. He owed it to her to do better.
"Oh, also," Nurse Joy continued, "we got a call from Professor Oak asking about you. He asked if you could video call him as soon as possible."
Austin felt a pang of anxiety. What did Oak want now? Did he know something? He pulled out his Pokédex, pretending to scroll through contacts while his mind raced.
"Okay, thanks. I'll do that," he said, trying to sound casual.
"Have a nice day!" she called out, her voice cheerful as ever as Austin waved goodbye.
He headed toward the cafeteria, his eyes still on the Pokédex.
----------------------------------------
As Austin stepped into the cafeteria, his attention was immediately drawn to the small garden that opened up at the back. It was peacefu. Trainers and their Pokémon lounged under little gazebos.
Pikachu, though, had a one-track mind. The second he saw the food table, he practically launched himself towards it. His little paws skidded on the floor as he zeroed in on the intern handing out plates. The kid looked exhausted, barely hanging on as he served eggs, berries, toasted bread, and a glass of milk to trainers. For the Pokémon, bowls filled with kibble were laid out.
Austin grabbed a plate and found a quiet spot in the back of the garden, away from the noise. He preferred the peace, the solitude, and apparently, so did Pikachu and Spearow as they followed him over, though Pikachu's eyes never left the food.
He stared down at his plate, picking at the eggs, when a weird thought crossed his mind.
Are these eggs from Pidgeys or Spearows?
He knew the anime had hinted at Pokémon being used as food sources, but there was a distinct lack of meat here. Maybe the Pokémon world is like some parts of India—minimal meat in the cuisine. The idea of eating Pokémon, though, made his stomach twist.
Eggs and milk, fine. But eating Pokémon? No way.
Austin hesitantly took a bite of the eggs and was instantly surprised. They were creamy, so rich he almost groaned out loud. Damn, these are good. He glanced around quickly, hoping no one noticed how much he was enjoying his meal—that would've been embarrassing. But when he looked up, both Pikachu and Spearow were giving him a look. Not just any look—a full-on, WTF look.
Their slow, deliberate chewing made it painfully obvious they weren't impressed with their kibble. He could feel the flush creeping up his neck.
"So, uh… how's the weather?" Austin blurted out, trying to change the subject. They continued to stare, their expressions unimpressed.
Feeling desperate to distract them, he picked up a piece of their food, holding it between his fingers like he was examining some strange alien artifact. "Are you guys actually enjoying this?" he asked, his voice a little too high. Then, before he could stop himself—and to their utter shock—he popped it into his mouth.
Big mistake.
It tasted like styrofoam. Bland. Dry. Utterly tasteless. He immediately regretted it, grimacing as he swallowed.
"This… this tastes like nothing," Austin muttered, glancing between Pikachu and Spearow, who both nodded in agreement. They were clearly as fed up with this food as he was. "Must be some cheap stuff," he added, remembering the scenes from the anime where Ash's Pokémon would happily devour the meals Brock made. Clearly, this isn't that.
That's when he remembered the cookbook Nurse Joy had mentioned. An idea sparked. "What do you guys say we make some real food?" he suggested, flipping the cookbook open to a random page. "Frozen yogurt berries covered in chocolate," he read aloud, pausing as he noticed their mouths literally watering.
"Alright," Austin grinned. "Let's finish up here, hit the store for some ingredients, and I'll whip up these snacks for you. It'll take about two hours, but they'll be worth the wait."
Pikachu and Spearow suddenly found new motivation, scarfing down the kibble like it was a race. Austin chuckled, shaking his head at how quickly their mood had changed. He dug into his own breakfast and pulled out his Pokédex, almost out of habit. Back on Earth, he used to check his phone all the time, but here, this little device had become his lifeline.
As he scanned Spearow, the familiar robotic voice popped up:
This Spearow is male. Ability: Keen Eye. Current moves: Peck, Leer, Focus Energy, and Fury Attack. Age: one year, two months.
Wait—Fury Attack?
Austin paused, blinking at the screen. Spearow didn't know that move the other day. Must've learned it during that scuffle with Team Rocket. His mind started to race. So, Pokémon actually gain experience here like in the games? Do they level up? Is there a limit on how many moves they can know at a time?
The last thing he wanted was to be stuck with a four-move limit. That would really suck.
"Guess I'll ask Professor Oak about it," Austin muttered under his breath, trying to calm his mind. But something else on the Pokédex screen caught his eye—a weird symbol he hadn't noticed before. Curious, he swiped it, and a new section labeled "Encyclopedia" popped up.
A video of Professor Oak appeared, his voice cheerful. "Hello there! Looks like you've found the secret function of the Pokédex. Think of this as a fun quest. As long as you encounter a Pokémon, their entry will be automatically unlocked for you to read. Enjoy!"
Austin couldn't help but smile, glancing at Pikachu and Spearow. They had finished eating and were both watching him intently, clearly interested in what he'd found.
"Alright," he said, grinning at them. "Which one should we check out first?"
"Spearow," one chirped.
"Pikachu," the other buzzed, their voices overlapping, and sparks nearly flew between them.
Austin raised his hands, trying to defuse the situation. "Alright, alright. I'll pick based on who joined the team first," he reasoned, hoping to avoid a full-blown rivalry. Spearow seemed to accept that logic, though he still gave Pikachu a side-eye.
"Let's see what Pikachu's entry says," Austin said, selecting his file.
Pikachu puffed out his chest proudly, while Spearow just rolled his eyes. Austin couldn't help but chuckle.
[ Encyclopaedia Entry Number#25 ]
Pikachu are a small species of pokemon which many people find cute, and for this reason have become quite popular as pets, even among people with little interest in pokemon battles. This is an unfortunate fact which leads to many electrocutions, for a Pikachu can be quite dangerous to handle.
Pikachu are a pokemon which store electricity in their cheeks, but this electricity must be released on a semi-regular basis lest the pokemon use powerful electric attacks at random, shocking everything in sight. Typically this is handled by occasionally hooking the rodent up to a special battery which is recharged by its shock, then using the electricity to power the household. Furthermore, they do not only use thundershock to release energy, but also when startled or angry, and they do not have especially forgiving tempers. Many a trainer has been hospitalized or worse when quarreling with their pokemon, some passing away from shock wounds which could have been properly treated were the trainer not embarrassed for how this reflected upon them as a trainer. Moreover there is the issue of weather; Pikachu can seldom be cooped up inside for long, but they are prone to causing nearby people to be electrocuted in rain, and its tail can attract lightning in thunderstorms. Proper care involves the usage of a pokeball in inclement weather, but Pikachu are often reluctant to be so confined. Many inexperienced owners are equally reluctant to use them, fearing it will mark them as pokemon trainers and force them to accept challenges and see their precious Pikachu injured.
Despite this, with a gentle spirit and proper caution, Pikachu can make for excellent pets.
As the encyclopedia entry finished, Austin noticed Pikachu shifting nervously beside him, his ears drooping slightly. It caught Austin off guard—seeing Pikachu like this. He usually carried himself with a sort of brash confidence, a bit of a tough guy. But now, he just looked… scared.
Reaching over, he placed his hand gently on Pikachu's head. His fur was soft, almost silky, and Austin could feel him tense under his touch. "Hey, don't worry," he murmured, trying to sound reassuring. "We're going to train every day, so the chances of you having a random discharge are next to zero, okay?"
"Pika…" Pikachu responded, his voice low, still not fully convinced. His little body was practically vibrating with anxiety, and Austin hated seeing him like this. This wasn't the Pikachu who glared at him and shocked him senseless when they first met. This was his partner, and he was scared.
Austin sighed, gently scratching behind Pikachu's ears the way he liked, feeling him relax a fraction under his hand. "Look, I'll put this special battery on our to-buy list. We'll ask about the price and try to get it for you, okay?" he said, hoping the promise of a solution would ease Pikachu's worry. He wasn't even sure how much it would cost, but if it meant helping Pikachu feel safe, he'd figure something out.
Pikachu looked up at Austin, his eyes still a little uncertain but shining with a tiny spark of hope. He nodded, a small "Pika" escaping him, the tension in his body easing just a bit more.
Austin smiled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "That's better. We're in this together, right?" he said softly, and Pikachu nodded again, more firmly this time.
Then, out of nowhere, Spearow let out a loud chirp, making Austin jump. The sudden noise was so sharp that he had to rub his ear with his pinky, the sound still ringing.
"Well, aren't you excited?"
[ Encyclopaedia Entry Number#21 ]
When children are too young to train pokemon, their mothers typically give them two pieces of advice: "Don't go into the tall grass" and "under no circumstances make a Spearow mad." It would do more trainers well to heed the second piece of advice, even once they get their first pokemon; alas, many are too hotheaded to listen.
Spearow are a rare and cowardly pokemon, but quick to anger; if a trainer is too weak to capture or kill one they antagonize (and they are quick to anger) a Spearow will call for backup from its friends, and young children who struggle with one of them now battle a whole flock.
Sometimes trainers have already captured an electric, ice, or rock pokemon and can use its type advantage to survive, albeit typically in critical condition and dire need of a pokemon center. Far more often, young trainers are pecked and scratched to death, and their bodies along with those of their pokemon feed the victorious flock for an entire week.
Austin blinked a few times, lost in thought.
Why does this world feel like it's more than the anime?
This lingering question was interrupted by a Spearow's proud display. The flying type strutted around proudly, puffing out his plumage as if he were the king of the tall grass.
"Well, aren't you the big bad of the tall grass?" Austin teased, poking Spearow gently. Spearow seemed to bask in his sarcasm, while Pikachu barely held back his laughter.
"Well, let's get going to the snacks," Austin announced, standing up.
"Pika."
"Spear."
----------------------------------------
Austin asked Pikachu and Spearow, "Are you two nervous?" as they made their way back from the Pokémon Mart. His wallet felt lighter—200 Pokédollars gone on berries, yogurt, chocolates, and chips. He'd thought it was a good investment, something to keep them going during training.
But Pikachu and Spearow didn't seem to care about anything except the snacks. Their eyes were locked onto the bags he was carrying, almost drooling with anticipation.
Austin rolled his eyes at their single-mindedness. "Seriously, guys?" he muttered, pushing open the door to their room. "I guess food's the only way to your hearts, huh?"
Setting the bags down, he pulled out Rattata's Pokéball, eager to let her out. "Hello ther—"
Before he could finish, pain exploded across his face, and he found himself on the floor, blinking up at the ceiling in shock. "What the—?!" His nose throbbed, the pain radiating through his skull. Pikachu's alarmed cry snapped him back to reality.
"Pika?!"
Electricity crackled around Pikachu, lighting up the room with dangerous sparks. His eyes were wide with panic, and Austin knew he was ready to zap anything that moved.
In the chaos, Spearow suddenly launched himself into action, his wings flapping furiously. Was he trying to protect Austin, or was he just reacting to the sudden commotion? Austin couldn't tell. Spearow shot toward Rattata, beak gleaming as he went in for a Peck.
"Wait, no—!"
Rattata darted to the side, her movements quick and desperate, and Spearow's attack missed its mark, slamming into the window behind her instead. The glass shattered with a deafening crash, shards flying everywhere. Austin threw up his arms instinctively, feeling tiny, stinging cuts on his skin as the pieces rained down.
"Stop it!" he yelled, scrambling to his feet, his voice hoarse and strained. Panic gripped him as he took in the scene—Spearow flapping wildly, Pikachu on edge, and Rattata, curled up in the corner, trembling like a leaf.
She looked absolutely terrified.
The door burst open, and Nurse Joy rushed in, a Chansey at her side. Austin tried to explain, his words tumbling out in a frantic mess. "Look, I'm sorry about the window, I didn't realize Rattata would react like that, and—"
Nurse Joy cut him off, her eyes widening as she looked at him. "That's not important, you're bleeding."
Austin blinked, confused. Bleeding? He reached up, touching his face, and winced as a sharp sting shot through him. Looking in the mirror, he saw it—blood trickling down from his nose, which was unmistakably broken.
Great, just great.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rattata making a break for it, her tiny body darting toward the door. Without thinking, he grabbed her Pokéball and recalled her before she could get far. She vanished in a flash of red light, leaving the room suddenly still and quiet, save for his ragged breathing and the distant hum of the Pokémon Center.
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Nurse Joy was on him in seconds, her hands moving with practiced speed as she tended to his nose. "This might sting a bit," she warned, and yeah, that was the understatement of the year. He gritted his teeth as she adjusted the splint, her touch firm but gentle.
"Okay, so the fracture is clean and should heal nicely as long as you're careful not to stress it further," she explained, her voice professional and calm. "It's just a simple fracture, nothing displaced, so you're quite lucky in that regard."
Lucky. Right. His face was throbbing, his heart still pounding from the chaos, and he felt anything but lucky.
As she packed away her medical supplies, Austin felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his chest. He knew what he had to ask, but the words stuck in his throat.
"So, uh, how much do I owe for the window?" he asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper. He felt like a kid who'd just broken a vase and was waiting to get grounded. He glanced down, guilt twisting in his stomach. This was his fault. He should have handled Rattata better. She was scared, just trying to survive, and he'd put her in a situation where she felt cornered.
Nurse Joy gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I think I can give a hero a one-time pass."
The relief that washed over him was almost dizzying. "Thank you," he breathed, feeling the tension drain from his shoulders. But he couldn't just leave it at that. He looked down at the Pokéball in his hand, the one holding a terrified little Pokémon who didn't know what to make of him or any of this.
"What should I do with Rattata?" he asked, his voice small. He didn't want her to be scared of him. He didn't want any of his Pokémon to be afraid.
"Can you show me her Pokéball?" Nurse Joy asked. Austin handed it over, watching as she twisted the front button. The red top faded, revealing a miniature Rattata inside. His mouth dropped open in surprise.
That's… that's like something from the Pokémon manga! he thought, staring in disbelief.
"Talk to her," Nurse Joy said simply, handing the Pokéball back to him. "Help her understand that you're not going to hurt her. She needs to feel safe with you."
Austin nodded, swallowing hard. He could do that. He had to do that.
"I need to go and do my job now," she added, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder before turning to leave.
As the door clicked shut behind Nurse Joy, the room fell into an eerie silence. Austin stared at the transparent Pokéball in his hand, utterly baffled. How did this even work? A Pokémon inside a tiny ball, somehow safe and sound? The science of this world was wild, and he didn't know if he'd ever wrap his head around it.
A soft squeak from inside the Pokéball pulled him out of his thoughts.
"You pack quite the punch," Austin muttered, glancing at Rattata's tiny form inside the ball. She was watching Pikachu, her eyes wide and wary. Pikachu wasn't helping—his glare was intense, his tail flicking with irritation.
"Don't worry, he's just concerned about what happened last time," Austin tried to reassure her, though even he wasn't sure how much that would help. Pikachu's ears shot up, and Rattata shivered, her small body trembling slightly. She was scared.
"Pikachu, let's not blame her," he urged. "She was just scared. It's a new environment for her."
"Pika," Pikachu grumbled, clearly not convinced.
"Hey, last time I checked, you shocked the hell out of me when we first met," Austin pointed out, giving him a sideways look. Pikachu huffed, turning away in a dramatic show of disapproval.
Austin turned his attention back to Rattata. Her tiny eyes were still filled with confusion and uncertainty. "Look, we got off on the wrong foot last time," he said softly, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. "Let's start over. My name's Austin, and I'm your new trainer." He gave her a small smile, hoping the word trainer didn't sound as intimidating as it felt.
Rattata's face twisted in confusion for a moment, but Austin saw a flicker of curiosity behind her eyes.
"Trainer… like, we go on adventures, we battle, we eat…" He paused, noticing how her ears perked up at the word eat. Her body leaned forward just a little, her tail twitching in what he could only describe as interest.
"Are you hungry?"
Her reaction was instant—her eyes widened, and her tiny form leaned even closer, as if the mere mention of food had flipped a switch.
"Okay, I'm going to let you out," Austin said, holding the Pokéball a little tighter, "but you have to promise me you won't run away. Deal?"
Rattata gave a hesitant nod, and Austin exhaled slowly before pressing the button on the Pokéball. The light flashed, and she stepped out, more composed this time. He reached into his bag and pulled out a handful of berries, holding them out to her with an open palm.
Rattata sniffed the berries cautiously, her little nose twitching, before she began nibbling on them. Watching her eat like that—so small, so fragile—it stirred something in Austin. He didn't expect to feel this way, but a warmth bloomed in his chest. She wasn't just some wild Pokémon anymore. She was part of this crazy, makeshift team he was building.
Suddenly, a loud screech pierced the air, snapping him out of the moment. He turned to see Spearow, his beak glowing ominously, ready to dive at Rattata.
"Spearow, stand down!" Austin barked, standing up abruptly. "Or no snacks for you."
That did the trick. Spearow's posture relaxed, and with an annoyed ruffle of his feathers, he settled down, though his eyes still lingered on Rattata. It seemed like he was still sizing her up, but at least he wasn't going to attack—this time.
Austin glanced back at Rattata, who hadn't stopped nibbling. The little creature was so focused on her meal. He couldn't help but smile at that. For her, in this moment, it was just about the berries. No battles, no fear, just food.
"Don't worry," Austin said quietly, his voice filled with a sincerity he hadn't expected. "As long as I'm here, you'll be safe."
The words hung in the air for a moment, and he noticed Pikachu and Spearow both turning to look at him, their expressions surprisingly… thoughtful? Almost like they hadn't expected him to say that. Hell, he hadn't expected himself to say that.
But he meant it.
He wasn't just here to train them, to fight battles and catch Pokémon like some mindless game. He was responsible for them now—for their safety, their well-being.
----------------------------------------
"Are you okay?" Austin asked the intern helping him in the kitchen. The intern's pink hair was a mess, his eyes half-closed, and the dark shadows beneath them made him look like he hadn't slept in days. He looked like a walking zombie, and honestly, Austin wasn't sure if he was going to make it through the next few minutes.
"Yes, now what will you be using? Dehydrator? Freeze Dryer? Or…" His voice trailed off as he struggled to keep his eyes open, wobbling slightly on his feet.
"Why would I need to use those?" Austin asked, glancing over at Pikachu, Spearow, and Rattata. All three of them were looking around the kitchen like kids in a candy store—wide-eyed and full of curiosity. The room was a chef's dream—gleaming surfaces, rows of gadgets he couldn't even name, and a hundred more things he was probably supposed to know how to use.
The intern yawned, his exhaustion seeping into every word. "You freeze-dry or dehydrate fruit and other things for when you go on the road. They last longer."
Austin nodded slowly, mentally adding figure out how to use a freeze dryer to his already growing list of things to learn. Cooking for Pokémon wasn't exactly something he'd expected to deal with. At this point, he was convinced Brock was Ash's secret plot armor.
"Well, I'm just going to be making some snacks with a double boiler and a freezer," he said, hoping to simplify things. No need to complicate this with machinery he didn't know how to operate.
The intern's eyes widened like Austin had just revealed some ancient culinary secret. "You are the Messiah," he whispered in awe, his tired voice trembling with reverence.
"What?" Austin blinked at him, completely thrown off by the reaction.
"I'm going to sleep," the intern declared, already turning away, stumbling toward the door.
"Wait, aren't you supposed to help?"
"You are the False Messiah," the intern muttered, and Austin sighed, waving him off.
"Okay, man, just go to sleep."
The intern barely made it a few steps before collapsing in a heap on the floor, fast asleep, like something straight out of a cartoon. "Thank you, oh great saint," he mumbled into the tile, completely out.
Austin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This day was just getting better and better.
Turning back to his Pokémon, Austin barely had a second to breathe before Pikachu let out a soft cry. Pikachu was on the floor, one paw pressed against a cup that had been teetering dangerously on the edge of the counter. He glanced up at Austin with an "oops" expression that would've been funny if Austin wasn't already stressed out.
I really need to get Brock to join me as soon as possible.
After a few minutes of cooking, the boy sat flipping through The Physics of Pokémon: Understanding Their Moves by Professor Magnolia, Austin came across a section that caught his attention.
Instinctive Moves — These are moves that a Pokémon instinctively knows but requires the catalyst of a battle to 'unlock.' It's like they have these moves lying dormant until the heat of battle triggers them.
That made Austin think of Spearow. Spearow had used Fury Attack in his last battle, and Austin could've sworn it came out of nowhere, like it just clicked in the moment.
Egg Moves — These moves awaken in Pokémon due to interspecies breeding. They are passed down from parents to offspring, sometimes resulting in moves that a Pokémon wouldn't normally learn.
Tutor Moves — A phenomenon known as Pokémon Mimetics shows that Pokémon can teach some of their moves to other species. This can be replicated by professional move tutors, who help Pokémon learn moves outside their natural set.
"Pokémon Mimetics," Austin murmured to himself, imagining a classroom of Pokémon learning from each other like students in a school. It was a fascinating thought, but definitely something he'd have to explore later.
TM Moves — TM, or Technical Machine, moves were created by Orrean scientist Konrad Zuse. He discovered that many Pokémon have vestigial organs that allow them to learn moves that their species naturally can't. The first successful TM was created in 1941 when an Eevee was taught the move 'Stored Power' using a combination of psychic type Pokémon and engineering.
Austin paused, his eyes lingering on the word "Orrean." Orre? Isn't that the region from Pokémon XD: Gale of Darkness? That game was one of his favorites growing up. His mind raced, nostalgia washing over him, but there was a flicker of something else too. Worry.
Could Team Cipher become a problem for me in the future?
"Pika," Pikachu's gentle pat on his leg snapped Austin out of his thoughts. Pikachu pointed at the clock with his tiny paw, reminding the boy of their current task.
Austin blinked, shaking off the heavy thoughts. "Right. Let's see if the snacks are done." He put the book down and turned to the kitchen, feeling his Pokémon's excited eyes on him as he pulled out a plate of freshly made treats. He picked one up and took a bite—the rich, smooth chocolate melted on his tongue instantly, followed by the cold, creamy yogurt that balanced the sweetness, and then the burst of tangy berries. It was perfect.
Austin handed a snack to each of them, watching as they dug in, their faces lighting up with pure joy. For a moment, he allowed himself to just enjoy this small victory.
Cross the bridge when you come to it, he thought, reminding himself not to get too caught up in the big picture. Focus on what's right in front of you. Talk to Professor Oak, sort out your budget, train, get through those books. Michael and Wes can handle Team Cipher if they become a problem. Right now, he had his own journey to figure out.
Austin glanced back at his Pokémon, still happily munching on their snacks, and felt a sense of peace wash over him.
For now, this was enough.
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Austin settled into the communication room, the hum of vintage 90s computers filling the quiet space. The beige, bulky monitors were encased in small partitioned walls that gave a bit of privacy. The soft glow of the screen was almost calming, but his nerves had other ideas. His leg bounced under the desk as he muttered to himself, "Okay, you got this," before powering up the computer and dialing the number.
The ringing seemed to stretch forever, each chime making his heart beat faster.
After a few rings, a voice finally crackled through the speakers. "Hello, this is the Ketchum residence." It was her, but the video feed remained off for now.
Austin swallowed, the guilt settling heavy in his chest. "Hello, Mom?" The word tasted strange, like he didn't have a right to say it.
There was a cry of joy on the other end, loud and filled with excitement. He winced at the sudden noise as Delia's face appeared on the screen, her smile bright and warm. "Hi honey! Is everything okay?"
Her image came into focus, and Austin blinked, caught completely off guard. Delia was curling dumbbells—big, 50-pound dumbbells. Her arms were toned, her expression focused, and for a second, he didn't know what to think.
"Where are you, Ash?" she asked, snapping him out of his daze.
"The Pokémon Center in Viridian City," he answered automatically, still processing what he was seeing. Was this her? The same sweet, gentle Delia from the show? Or was this world trying to surprise him in every way it could?
"You're already in Viridian City?" Her tone shifted to something proud, impressed even. "It took your father four days to get there when he started Pokémon training. Oh, he'll be so proud. You're the apple of his eye."
Father. The word hit Austin harder than he expected, and suddenly he felt a lump in his throat. Ash's dad. A mystery his whole childhood, and now here he was, standing in his shoes. "Is there a way for me to talk to him?" he asked before he could stop himself. It came out of nowhere, driven by years of curiosity.
Delia's smile faltered just slightly, her tone shifting to something more forced. "Sorry, honey, you know how busy he is." There was something beneath her words, something she wasn't saying, but Austin didn't push. He wasn't sure he even wanted to know.
"Right."
"Well, next time you talk to Dad, tell him I'm doing alright." Austin tried to keep his voice steady, but he couldn't hide the weight of the words.
"Ash, I'm proud of you," Delia said, her eyes soft and full of love. "And I want you to know that your father is proud of you too."
Austin looked away, feeling a tightness in his chest he hadn't expected. This was all too much—too real. "Hmm," was all he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.
He needed an exit. Fast. "I have to call Professor Oak," he said quickly, his voice a little too hurried. "I shouldn't keep him waiting."
"I love you," she said, her tone warm and genuine.
Austin wasn't ready for how much those words would affect him. There was something about hearing them, so full of love, even though he wasn't really her son.
"Me too," he mumbled, his voice cracking slightly. He ended the call quickly, sitting back in the chair as the screen went dark. The silence was deafening, and he found himself just staring at the blank monitor, trying to process everything.
This world, these connections—they were becoming more real with each passing moment, and he was right in the middle of it all, struggling to navigate through his own unexpected journey.
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"Ring, ring, ring."
"Hello there."
"Ah! My boy. How is your journey going?"
"Who is this?"
"Don't you recognize me?"
Austin bit back a laugh as he stared at the screen, the camera still showing the back of Professor Oak's head. "I would if I wasn't looking at the back of your head," he quipped, watching as the professor fumbled with the setup. Oak's sudden scramble to adjust the camera had him stifling a chuckle until he finally turned around, looking a bit sheepish.
"Looks like you made it to Viridian City," Oak noted, trying to regain his composure, though there was a faint blush on his cheeks.
"Yeah, I was curious why you called the Pokémon Center?"
"I was checking to see your progress since I am your sponsor," Professor Oak explained, his tone taking on a serious edge. Austin's eyebrows shot up.
Sponsor? That was news to him. He felt a twinge of anxiety, like he'd missed a critical piece of the puzzle. What else did he not know about this world?
"And I had my doubts that you would be able to handle your Pikachu, but when my grandson said that you wouldn't have a new Pokémon by the time you got to Viridian City, I bet him 1,000 Pokédollars that he'd be wrong."
A grin spread across Austin's face. "You won that bet," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I caught two Pokémon—Rattata and Spearow."
Professor Oak's laughter filled the room, and Austin felt himself relaxing a bit. "Well done! A Spearow?" Oak's expression shifted to concern, the amusement fading. "That Pokémon is hard for new trainers to handle."
"We'll see," Austin said. Spearow had been a handful, and he was still figuring out how to manage him without getting pecked to death.
"Confidence, that's good to see," Professor Oak said, smiling again. There was a warmth in his voice that made Austin feel like maybe he wasn't doing so badly after all.
"Professor, I had a few questions on my mind. Do you mind if you could answer them?"
"Ask away," Oak encouraged, leaning forward, his eyes keen and focused.
"Can Pokémon use more than four moves?"
"Of course, why do you ask?" Oak tilted his head, clearly curious about why Austin would bring up something so basic.
"Well, I saw this Pokémon match, and they only used four moves," he said, leaning back a bit. He needed to know the rules here, to figure out what was real and what was just part of the show.
"That's because the Pokémon League rules limit each Pokémon to four moves, making the battles more strategic," Professor Oak explained. Austin nodded, filing that information away. It was starting to make sense, piece by piece.
"Any other questions?"
"Uh, yeah." Austin hesitated, then pushed on. "When you say you're my sponsor, what does that mean exactly?"
Professor Oak chuckled, shaking his head. "You weren't paying attention during the lecture, were you?" Austin forced a nervous laugh, feeling like he'd just been called out in class.
"Okay, being a sponsored trainer is pretty straightforward. I give you access to the Oak Lab's ranch, and the League provides you with a monthly stipend of 10,000 Pokédollars to use as you see fit," Oak explained.
Austin's jaw dropped. "Ten thousand Pokédollars?" He couldn't believe it. That was more money than he'd ever seen, let alone had to spend. He knew being a trainer was expensive, but still…
"But what's the catch?" Austin asked, trying to keep his voice steady. There had to be a catch. Nothing was ever this easy.
"The catch is that you're considered an active trainer who operates on my behalf and represents me in official tournaments while conducting your own adventures. Essentially, you get paid to battle and bring prestige to the lab, and the better you perform, the more substantial the grants I receive from the League, and the bigger your stipend becomes," Oak continued.
"So I'm like a walking advertisement for the Oak Lab?"
"Something like that," Oak said, smiling. "But it's more about supporting young trainers and advancing Pokémon research."
Austin paused, letting it all sink in.
"But what if someone doesn't want to battle?" Austin asked, the question slipping out before he could stop himself. He'd always thought Ash was all about battling, but… was he?
"You, of all people, don't want to battle?" Professor Oak raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.
"No, no, no," Austin backtracked quickly, realizing how that must have sounded. "It's just that I recently found out how expensive it is to be a trainer, plus I plan to catch a lot of Pokémon, so a big stipend would be really helpful." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like he was exposing too much of his hand.
Professor Oak laughed, the sound easing some of Austin's tension. "Wow, I didn't expect you to start changing in just a day. The Ash of yesterday wouldn't have even bothered with this stuff."
"The League's stipend can primarily be increased through your contributions to lab research or through gaining prestige in battles. However, that's not something you need to concern yourself with immediately. Managing six Pokémon with the 10K Pokédollars monthly stipend should be quite feasible. If you find yourself catching more Pokémon than you can comfortably manage, you can always send the extras to the ranch," Oak said, his tone patient, like he was explaining things to a child.
Austin nodded, trying to process everything. This was… a lot. But one thing still bugged him. "Wouldn't sending my extra Pokémon to the ranch affect your finances?"
Professor Oak paused, looking momentarily taken aback. "Oh, you don't know."
"Know what?"
"The ranch generates revenue by selling by-products from Pokémon. For example, we store Pikachu's electricity in batteries; Tauros's fur can be harvested and sold; Miltank provides Moomoo Milk, and so forth," Oak explained, and suddenly, a lot of things started clicking into place.
Austin stared at him, feeling a mix of fascination and confusion. "Professor Oak, I've read that many people need a second job alongside being a low-level trainer. Why don't more people get into this ranch business?"
"That's because trainers aren't exactly paid in cash; the ranch simply takes care of your Pokémon in exchange for the ownership of these by-products," Oak clarified.
"Okay, last question," Austin said, trying to keep his thoughts from spiraling too much. "You mentioned a 10K stipend."
"Yes?"
"So, where's my money?"
Professor Oak looked amused, almost smug. "In your bank account."
Austin blinked, feeling a bit stunned. Why the hell does a ten-year-old have a bank account?
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As Austin left the bank with 5,000 Pokédollars in his pocket and headed for the Poké Mart to stock up on essentials, he flipped open Pokémon Training for Dummies by Jane Peters. The first section of the book outlined the core staples of training any Pokémon: Knowledge, Diet, and Rest. Curious, Austin skipped the part about diet for now—he was more interested in what the book described as the type of training specific to each Pokémon.
The book detailed:
A Pokémon's capabilities can be categorized into specific stats based on their physiology and the average abilities inherent to their species.
It listed several stats:
Health Points (HP) or Stamina: How much damage a Pokémon can receive before fainting.
Attack: Often referred to as Physical Attack, this stat partly determines how much damage a Pokémon deals using a physical move.
Defense: Also known as Physical Defense, this influences how much damage a Pokémon receives when hit with a physical move.
Special: This is divided into Special Attack and Special Defense, determining the impact of and resistance to special moves.
Speed: Encompasses the Pokémon's ability to dodge, move, and attack quickly.
Austin continued reading, intrigued.
"Every Pokémon species has been scientifically shown to have an affinity towards one of these stats. For example, an average Pikachu will always be quicker than it is durable. Therefore, when training, exercises related to enhancing speed should be prioritized over those that increase stamina."
The book included a table that mapped out which species were better suited for what type of training. Austin scanned the list, noting where each Kanto Pokémon, minus the legendaries, fell.
"Okay, so in the games, stats are like actual numbers, but here, they're more about a Pokémon's natural capabilities... and I should model my training regimens after these," he realized, nodding to himself. It was a fascinating new angle on how to approach training with Pikachu, Spearow, and Rattata.
"Pika!" Pikachu's tone, filled with awe and curiosity, pulled Austin from the depths of his book. He glanced up and blinked a few times, readjusting to his surroundings.
A passerby caught Austin's eye, and on a whim, he asked, "Excuse me, but is that the Poké Mart?"
The man pointed at the giant sign above a massive building. Austin muttered a quick thanks, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment. Smooth, Austin. Really smooth. The place was huge, like a Pokémon world version of Costco—massive and teeming with people.
Stepping inside, the comparison only got stronger.
The ceilings soared high above, and rows upon rows of shelves stretched endlessly, packed with every imaginable item a Pokémon trainer could need. Toys, treats, grooming kits, and various blends of food lined the aisles, while more specialized products like fire retardant, hydrophobic, or slash-resistant pet beds were strategically displayed. And at the front, behind the checkout counters, a wide glass case showcased the familiar staples—Pokéballs, potions, and… glowing metal cubes?
Austin raised an eyebrow. Definitely not something he remembered from the show.
With a deep breath, he grabbed a cart and headed down the first aisle labeled 'Electric,' steering it carefully. Pikachu hopped in with a delighted chirp, his eyes wide as he took in the spectacle around them. Austin pulled out his shopping list, trying to focus.
The list was simple enough: Pikachu's special battery, some high-quality food, and a basic grooming kit. As he scanned the shelves, he paused at a bag labeled League Recommended Omnivore Pokémon Food Blend. The description on the back was annoyingly vague, promising "balanced nutrients" without really explaining what was inside. He grimaced, shaking his head. That wasn't good enough.
"Nah. I'll just make the food myself," he muttered, more to himself than to Pikachu. Pikachu perked up at that, his ears twitching with interest. He knew good food when he heard it mentioned.
Austin navigated through the rest of the aisles, grabbing the items he needed and avoiding the stuff that looked too gimmicky. When they reached the last stop at the bookshelf, he picked up Under the Stars: A Modern Guide to Camping by Emma Clarkson.
Feeling pretty pleased with himself, Austin pushed the cart toward the checkout. A teenage girl stood behind the counter, wearing a blue apron with a Pokéball logo on it. She quickly stashed away a magazine as they approached, flashing a wide, practiced smile.
"Find everything okay?"
"Just fine, thanks," Austin replied, glancing back at the glass case filled with glowing cubes. "What are those?"
"TMs," she said casually as she began scanning his items.
TMs. Austin's heart skipped a beat. Teaching his Pokémon new moves could be a game-changer. "Can I buy one?"
"Hm." She pulled out a card and pointed to it, listing the available TMs.
Austin barely heard the names as his eyes locked on the price. The cheapest one was 20,000 Pokédollars. He felt his heart sink. No way could he afford that right now. He didn't even bother looking at what moves they contained. He could only imagine how tough it must be for trainers who didn't have someone like Professor Oak backing them up.
"Which aisle is the Silph Co. bag in?" he asked, his gaze drifting to an advertisement on the wall. The Silph Co. bag used the same tech as Pokéballs, apparently letting you carry more stuff than a regular backpack could. It was priced at 8,000 Pokédollars, with an option for installments. It sounded almost too good to be true.
"Wow, that's some gift," the girl remarked, sounding genuinely impressed.
"Uh, it's not a gift. But why did you say that?" Austin asked, confused.
"It's weird to waste money on a Silph Co. bag when you already have one," she said.
Austin blinked. "Pardon?" He quickly took off his backpack, holding it up as if he'd never seen it before. "I already have one?"
"Oh, you didn't turn it on." She reached over and tapped a grommet on the bag. Suddenly, the weight he'd been carrying vanished. It was like the bag wasn't even there.
"How?" Austin stammered, his mind racing to catch up.
"Same principle as Pokéballs—whole matter-to-energy and space-expanding thing," she explained, though she sounded as unsure as he felt. "I don't really get it, but it's bigger on the inside than the outside. Somehow."
Physics be damned. Austin's brain was doing somersaults trying to process that.
"Your total is 5,600 Pokédollars," she announced, snapping him back to reality.
Austin grimaced. That was more than he expected. "Is there, like, a first-time discount?" he asked, mustering his best hopeful smile. Pikachu, catching his tone, looked up at the cashier with his biggest, most adorable eyes, letting out a soft "Pikaaa!" that practically screamed help me!
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"Fucking taxes," Austin grumbled, shoving the receipt into his pocket. An extra 600 bucks, all thanks to taxes. Seriously, what kind of world was this where a kid had to budget for taxes?
He had just returned to the Pokémon Center, still fuming, when he noticed a commotion near the entrance. Misty was there, and by the look on her face, she wasn't having a good day either. Her voice was loud enough to turn heads as she practically screamed at no one in particular.
Concerned, Austin jogged over, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. "Are you okay?"
Misty whipped around, frustration clear on her face. "Team Rocket stole my bike!"
Austin had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Of course they did. The whole 'bike saga' felt like some fated joke at this point. It was always about a damn bike. But he somehow managed to keep a straight face. "Uh, I'm sure Officer Jenny will get it back," he offered, knowing full well that was more of a platitude than actual reassurance.
Misty crossed her arms, clearly not in the mood for empty promises. "I know, but I was planning on just riding through Viridian Forest as fast as I could."
Austin shrugged sympathetically, trying to hide how relieved he was that this wasn't his problem. "Well, I hope you get it back soon," he said, already thinking about his own next steps. Time to stock up and move on, right?
But as he turned to go, a thought crept into his mind, uninvited and a little irritating. Should he ask her to come with him on his journey? He paused for a second, the idea lingering like an annoying little voice in the back of his head.
It wasn't a bad idea, on paper at least. A traveling companion could make things more interesting, maybe even safer. But... Viridian Forest. With her. And her bug phobia.
He could practically hear her screaming already, and the thought made him shudder. Nope. He'd rather face a wild horde of Beedrill alone than deal with that kind of chaos.
Yeah, no. Decision made.
He glanced back at her for a second, still fuming about her bike, and then he quickly dismissed the idea. "Good luck with the bike, Misty," he called over his shoulder as he headed out, the mental image of her freaking out over a Caterpie cementing his choice.
Yep, definitely better off on my own, Austin thought as he walked away.
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After hours of poring over books on camping and training—subjects that Austin never thought could be this fascinating—he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. If he found these topics boring, he'd seriously question his sanity. But despite his interest, his eyes were heavy, and his brain felt like it was wading through molasses.
"Tta!" A tiny squeak snapped Austin out of his thoughts. He glanced over at Pikachu, Rattata, and Spearow, all looking as exhausted as he felt, their eyelids drooping and their bodies slouched with sleepiness.
"Why don't you three go to sleep?" he suggested, rubbing his tired eyes. "I've just got two more pages to finish and note down."
Pikachu blinked at him sleepily, but it was Spearow who made the executive decision, fluttering over to peck at Austin's hand—not too hard, but enough to get his point across.
"Okay, okay, I get it. I'll go to sleep, jeez," Austin yawned, giving in. His body practically ached for the bed. He slid under the covers, barely getting comfortable before his eyelids started to shut on their own.
Just as he was about to drift off, he felt a light weight on his stomach and a tickling sensation by his side. Cracking his eyes open, he saw Pikachu curled up into a little ball of warmth on his chest. Rattata had nestled itself right next to his head, her tiny breaths soft and rhythmic.
He turned his head slightly to see Spearow perched near the still-broken window, giving him a look that said, You thought I'd sleep beside you? Think again.
A soft chuckle escaped Austin's lips, barely a sound in the quiet room. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you two just wanted me to go to sleep so you could use me as your personal mattress," he whispered, half-joking but fully appreciating the moment.
He gently moved Pikachu to his left side and adjusted Rattata to his right, making sure they were both comfortable. It felt strangely natural, as if this was the most normal thing in the world—sharing his bed with his Pokémon.
"That's better," he murmured, settling back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. In the stillness of the room, something hit him. "You know," he whispered, his voice soft, "my dream was always to be right here, just like this—to be a trainer, to have Pokémon of my own."
He didn't expect an answer, but the warmth of Pikachu pressing closer into his side and Rattata's tiny body nestled into his neck felt more comforting than anything he'd ever experienced.
"Thank you for being my friends," he whispered, his voice barely audible as the words hung in the air, almost more for him than for them. But he meant it. Every single word.
His eyelids grew heavier, slowly falling shut, but then there was a soft rustle of wings. Austin glanced down the bed to see Spearow, perched on the foot rail, still staring out the window like he was guarding them. Austin smiled to himself, feeling that last bit of tension ease from his body.
"Good night," he whispered, letting the darkness of sleep finally take him, wrapped in the warmth and comfort of his team—his friends.