Hello, my name is Legacy.
Thanks so much for reading. Growing up watching the anime, I've often yearned for a more adult, grown-up spin on our beloved characters. This is my version of that. Please leave some feedback. Any advice, criticism or suggestions would be much appreciated!
PROLOGUE: MUST SEE TV
Numbness swept over her entire body as she stared off aimlessly into the darkness. But it wasn't numbness in the phyiscal sense like frost bite. It was deeper than that.
Only the soft, ambient glow from the television across the room provided the dark bedroom with any sort of light. She only ever bothered to turn it on so that the voices and noises would make her feel not so completely alone.
"... Tonight, on Kanto News Nightly..."
Every night it was the same. A woman in a pants suit would sit behind a desk and announce the latest goings-on from across the region. A house fire, the latest beauty contest winners, the opening of a new Pokèmon Center, any number of bland stories sandwiched between commercial breaks. The weatherman with his terrible comb-over and bad jokes would give his forecast, and the sports guy would report in as well. It was all so mundane, so routine... simply background noise to lull her mind to an eventual slumber.
"… And now, our top story this evening..."
Tonight, however, the anchor's tone of voice was more wholehearted than normal. It was almost gleeful. Intrigued, the girl sat up from her normal staryu-like, sprawled position in bed and began to watch.
"... All eyes will be on beautiful Sapphire City tomorrow evening, as the much-anticipated World League Tournament finally gets underway! The field of sixty-four is set, and fans across the globe are anxious to see who will earn the title of Pokémon Master..."
Struggling to reposition herself as her waterbed rippled under her weight, she now offered the screen her undivided attention. Was it tournament time again? Had it really been four years already?
The broadcast cut away from the woman behind the desk to a magnificent aerial camera shot of the battle stadium in Sapphire City.
"... A capacity crowd of nearly eighty thousand spectators is expected to pack Sapphire Stadium tomorrow for the World League's opening ceremonies, with millions more watching from home..."
The girl marveled at the extravagence of such an arena. It looked like a gigantic bowl sitting right in the midst of downtown. Currently empty, it was hard to fathom that there existed enough people in the world to fill it. Towering light fixtures bordered the outer ring. It was a prodigious sight to behold, and it would probably look even bigger from field-level the next day with all those people in attendence.
"... But the excitement has already begun in town as the entire city is eager to welcome the world's best to Sapphire City..."
She watched as the broadcast switched to a shot of a large group of rabid fans camped out in front of the stadium. The line for tickets looked as if it stretched for miles. They were all cheering and waving, some wielding hand-drawn signs of support for their favorite trainers. Even from the random camera snapshots from downtown, she could almost feel the electricity in the air.
It was amazing to her how popular the Pokémon League had become as a spectator sport compared to even a few years ago. Today, elite trainers were like rock stars, featured on television and in newspapers all the time. Talk radio and T.V. sports networks analyzed battles endlessly. Famous trainers often found themselves endorsing products in commercials and crossing over into the world of entertainment and movies.
The sport had turned them into superstars, plain and simple, and in turn, the popularity and television ratings of the big Pokémon League competitions had skyrocketed because of their celebrity. And this week's World League Tournament was the grand-daddy of them all.
"... Four years ago, in a performance for the ages, the great Lance of Blackthorn and his powerful dragons battled their way to supremecy and took home the crown as the world's best. This time around, Lance returns to defend his title, but repeating as champion will be no easy task..."
She was sitting up at the foot of her bed by now, riveted to the screen, resting her chin on her bent knees which she hugged to her chest. Replay footage from Lance's tournament win four years ago played. She remembered watching it like it was yesterday. It had been amazing to witness.
"... Assembling from all corners of the world, the World League features the greatest collection of elite trainers of anywhere on the planet. Each of the sixty-four has qualified for the tournament by earning the required one hundred career gym badges from across the world..."
The anchorwoman's voice continued, providing background to her audience while more battle footage from past tournaments rolled.
"… The trainers then competed in regional qualifying tournaments in order to determine which sixty-four trainers would earn the right to set foot in the legendary Sapphire Stadium this week...
"This year's final field of sixty-four is certainly a star-studded lineup, made up of respected current and former gym leaders, E4 members and other popular names in the sport. But it also features a number of fresh-faced newcomers looking to make a name for themselves.."
The screen then switched to show a visual diagram of the tournament tree which illustrated the anchor's words as she began to explain the format of the competition. The girl already knew how the tournament worked but kept watching anyway.
"Tomorrow, the first round opens, with our field being divided into sixteen groups consisting of four trainers each. During this first leg of the tournament, each trainer will battle each of the others in his or her group once, with the top two from each group advancing to the second round.
"From there, the remaining thirty-two will duel in a single-elimination tournament, with the last trainer standing receiving the crown and the official title of Pokémon Master!"
"Wow," the girl whispered.
She tried to wrap her head around just how many people would be watching the competition. The entire world was essentially putting their lives on hold to watch it all unfold. No matter what regional conflicts or political issues were going on across the globe, it all took a backseat for the week. The magnitude of something as seemingly insignifcant as a sporting competition was really incredible.
While she was amazed by the popularity of battles on television, that did not mean that she was a novice when it came to training. On the contrary. She was very familiar with the sport.
In fact, that reminded her, she really did need to start preparing for next week, when she would be participating in her own battles. They obviously would not be on the level of a World League competition at Sapphire Stadium, but it was her job just the same. She jotted a mental note reminding her that she had been putting off the maintenance work on the field for over two weeks now.
"Ugh," she growled angrily at the thought.
She did not know why she even bothered thinking about work. She felt like she was suffocating once again. Her breathing quickened and she fell back onto the bed with a defeated whimper. The monotony, the loneliness, the pointlessness of it all... it made her feel like she was trapped, even in her own home.
Without removing her gaze from the ceiling, she felt around the mattress for the remote control with no success. With an annoyed grunt, she rolled out of bed to turn the T.V. off, but she paused when she heard the newswoman continue.
"... After the commercial break, we'll be joined in studio by a very special guest who will help us break down this week's action. We'll talk about some of the marquee trainers headlining this huge event, and we'll ask him whether or not he thinks Lance the Dragon Master has a chance to defend his title and repeat as Master.
"... And later, we'll tell you about a fifteen-year-old who is just days away from becoming the youngest trainer to EVER compete in this legendary tournament! So stay tuned. We'll be right back after these messages from your local sponsors..."
The girl stopped in her tracks, but not at the mention of Lance or any of the other famous trainers they would be discussing on T.V. It was the remark about the fifteen-year-old that piqued her interest.
"The youngest in history," she said to herself. She could not help sounding impressed.
To think, a teenager nearly her age going up against all these iconic battlers from around the world. She was interested to see who this hotshot kid was. He must be pretty good to have made it this far, she figured.
She stretched and yawned before bending down to retrieve a shirt near her feet. Laundry, both clean and not, littered her bedroom floor. She began dressing as a commercial for some sort of restaurant played. She was not entirely sure why she was bothering to get dressed at this hour, but she decided it would be too depressing to wear the same pajamas for two entire days straight.
With the bedroom still mostly dark, the girl pulled a pair of shorts up her legs and buttoned them. She stood in front of the mirror by her bed, trying to straighten out her bed head in the soft glow of the television.
As she finished, a framed photograph sitting on the adjacent dresser caught her eye when the light from the T.V. reflected off of it just right. She could barely make out the photo in the dark room, but it was familiar enough to identify. It was of a ten or eleven year old girl with fiery red hair. She was smiling wide, and her eyes seemed to sparkle like emeralds in the sunlight as she posed at the beach with her friends.
Lately, the first thing that always came to mind when she gazed at the photo was just how happy the little girl looked. It was difficult to remember what it felt like to smile like that.
Standing alongside the redheaded girl in the photo was a young boy. He appeared to be about the same age. He had a tangled mop of jet black hair and a pair of deep, chocolate-brown eyes, glistening with optimism and innocence.
A slight feeling of warmth almost touched the girl until she caught herself staring at the photo. She scolded herself as she often did. The girl in the picture was gone. There was nothing that could be done to bring her back, and it was a waste of time to dwell on that.
Just then, the news broadcast returned from commercial. The anchor with her meticulously arranged hairdo returned to the screen from behind her desk. She was joined by a guest.
"Welcome back to Kanto News Nightly's coverage of the World League Tournament," she said to the camera. "Joining me now to give us his thoughts on this week's competition is a former World League participant himself. He is a decorated battler who is also a former gym leader from Cinnabar Island. He's Kanto's own, Dr. Kenneth Blaine..."
She immediately recognized the old man. He was bald, his face careworn and wrinkled from age. Still, though, there was that fire in his eyes, the same as when the girl had met Blaine many years ago during her travels.
"... Mr. Blaine, first of all, thank you very much for taking the time to be here tonight."
"My pleasure."
"As someone who has competed against the very best during your career, can you tell our viewers at home, who are some of the trainers you are excited to see this week? Who should the people watching at home keep an eye on?"
Blaine looked thoughtful for a few moments before opening his mouth.
"Well, Lisa, predicting the outcome of a tournament like this with the best of the best all taking part... It's like trying to solve the world's hardest riddle. You have former league champions, gym leaders and even Elite Four members battling here. It's hard to pick a favorite..."
Blaine and the newswoman continued to banter back and forth about many of the elite celebrity trainers, debating about whether or not each of them had a chance to win the tournament. All of the big names from around the world came up.
Lieutenant Surge, brash and powerful and, like Blaine, a former Kanto gym leader. There were E4 idols like Lorelei, Phoebe and Malva, each incredibly popular with the male fans for obvious reasons. Not to mention league winners like Cynthia, Wallace and, of course, Lance... all of whom would be in the same town at the same time tomorrow, all fighting to be named the very best.
"I couldn't pick a winner if you held me over a bed of hot coals!" Blaine raved. "Far too many talented trainers and pokémon in it this year. I'm just excited to see what happens!"
The girl finished with her hair and sat down on the cold floor right in front of the television. Most of the names being discusssed were legendary. It was true, with so much talent set to compete, it was nearly impossible to predict what would happen.
After a few minutes of analysis, the reporter asked Blaine another question.
"Okay, Mr. Blaine, we've talked at length about the stars of this competition. But what about some of the lesser-known trainers in the field? Is there anyone in particular that could surprise people this week with a strong showing?"
The old man continued on about several of the lesser-known trainers. He broke down their battling styles, their pokémon, and their past accomplishments for the viewing audience. The man was like a walking, talking encyclopedia with his knowledge of every trainer.
Still lying on the hardwood with her head resting on her hands, the girl was beginning to get tired even though she had been in bed all day. She wished the show would hurry and get to the part she wanted to see. She needed to try to get some actual sleep if she was going to try to accomplish anything in the morning.
She began to frown at the thought of doing nothing but gym battles against snotty kids all next week, not to mention the mounds of paper work she had to get done regarding the gym's finances. She sighed. She remembered when her life used to be spontaneous and unpredictable. It was once filled with adventure and surprise, surrounded by friends. Something new and unusual around every corner… each day leading to a new journey.
But not anymore. Not since she had been forced to leave her friends all those years ago. She hated to think about that day but-
She stopped in the middle of her thought when the anchor and Blaine continued with their coverage.
"… And finally, for fans looking for an underdog to cheer for this week, who should they watch for, sir?"
A lump appeared in her throat. She suddenly felt a shiver sweep down her spine as the man's eyes twinkled in response to the question.
"Well, I'd say everybody's biggest underdog is definitely the young kid," Blaine replied with a smile.
"Ah, you must be talking about the World League's youngest ever participant...
… Ash Ketchum from the town of Pallet."
Her eyes nearly leaped from their sockets when she saw the young trainer's picture appear on the screen, his tangled black locks, the laser-focused determination in those eyes, the same as those from the photograph on the dresser. She gasped audibly and rubbed her eyes with her hands, pleading with them not to deceive her.
The anchor then recited some biographical information about Ketchum, much like she had done with some of the other trainers who were not as well known, so that the public could be introduced to them before seeing them on television all week.
"… At fifteen years of age, Ash Ketchum will make history later this week, when he will become the youngest trainer to ever step onto the battlefield as a trainer in the World League…"
She still could not believe it. All she could do was stare in amazement at the T.V. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but restrained herself. This had to be a dream!
"… Ketchum has accomplished many feats during his young career, including the Orange League and Kanto Battle Frontier championships several years ago. He has also posted strong performaces in the Johto, Sinnoh and Kalos Leagues, among others, on his way to earning his one hundredth career gym badge."
Something resembling a smile nearly inched across the girl's face. A feeling of pride washed over her like a warm bath when she heard the list of all of Ketchum's accomplishments. But that pride quickly turned to anger when Blaine and the anchor began to discuss the young trainer further.
"… However, there are many people who believe that Ketchum is simply too young and inexperienced… and his pokémon are too weak for them to truly belong here with all these legendary trainers on this grand stage."
She was glad for the news woman's sake that Ketchum was not there to hear her call his pokèmon weak. The corners of her mouth once again twitched at the thought of how he would have reacted.
"... Don't get me wrong, Mr. Blaine. I think Ketchum has a bright future in the sport. But, come on. You don't really think a kid could step onto the field against any of the top trainers in the world and hope to beat them, do you? He's only fifteen, and he's never competed in a tournament like this before. His go-to battler is a pikachu for crying out loud!"
The girl scowled at hearing this idiot criticize the boy's ability. What did some bimbo with caked on makeup behind a news desk know about battling?
"I have seen him battle before, and the kid does have heart," Blaine admitted while clearly trying to hide a knowing smile. "But I agree. I think Ketchum is still too inexperienced to have any sort of real chance this week. He got a little lucky in the Kanto Regional Qualifying Tournament I think…"
"Morons!" the girl shouted out loud at the old man's answer. She threw her haircursh across the room in anger.
Why was everyone underestimating Ash? They thought he was just lucky to be there? He had just as good a chance as anyone else. But she tried not to dwell on the so-called experts' opinion. She believed in him even if no one else did.
She lifted herself off of the cold floor and crawled back into her bed. She wrapped herself in the covers as she reminisced about her past life, before she was confined to this place.
"Where has the time gone?" she always wondered.
"… Ketchum's heart and determination are the only things really going for him. I just don't think he can handle this kind of competition," said the reporter. "I Just hope the kid doesn't embarrass himself out there."
As the segment finished on the television, the girl finally allowed herself to try to get her head around what she had just watched. Still in awe over seeing his face again, she finally allowed a smile to form. If the boy was anything like he was when they were both kids, he would find a way to prove these naysayers wrong.
"… That will wrap up this pre-Pokémon World Champions League segment of Kanto News Nightly," the announcer said. "… Thanks to Mr. Kenneth Blaine for joining us tonight!"
"Thanks for having me, Lisa."
"When Kanto News Nightly returns from commercial-"
She clicked the television off and stared up into the blackness again and thought about Ash Ketchum.
It seemed like just yesterday that he had inexplicably gotten himself caught on her fishing lure down by the stream. She thought back to that rickety old bicycle she had once owned and how he had managed to destroy it.
That overzealous little boy, quick to anger when teased, but always warm, passionate and thirsty for adventure. She always remembered him boasting about someday becoming a Pokèmon Master, which she had always dismissed as childish bravado. But, wow. There he was, an arms reach from his goals. He had actually done it, and at only fifteen.
"He must be so excited right now," she whispered to herself, clutching her heart.
She remembered how he would nearly pass out from excitement before even local gym battles. How must he be feeling before the biggest tournament in the world?
"I need to be there," she said suddenly. It was shocking to hear the words escape her lips, sounding so confident and firm.
She repeated it in her head a few times, trying to decide whether it was truly as crazy as it initially sounded.
"Come on, that's stupid," the girl growled, second-guessing herself. But as she thought about it more and more, the lunacy of the idea seemed to weaken.
She looked around at the dark, ransacked bedroom with weeks old laundry and food scraps strewn about. She thought about the old, run-down gym. It had been in her family for years, and while she felt responsible to keep it going, her life was one of lethargy and dullness. She had no purpose. She rarely ate, she always slept, and she no longer felt like a real person.
But while she felt like a trip to Sapphire City might do her some good, she worried that too much time had passed and too much distance had grown between her and Ash. She was a completely different person than the redhead in that photo, and the two of them had not even spoken in several years.
From time to time, she would receive word that he was back in Kanto, visiting home in between adventures, but every time, she seemed to make an excuse not see him.
"He's surely forgotten about me by now," she said sadly, taking another look at the photo.
Deep down she knew Ash could never forget about her entirely after all the time they shared together, but the fact that the two of them had drifted so far apart was far more hurtful than forgetting. It just meant that he didn't care anymore.
Tears began to well up in her eyes, but she forced them back, embarrassed. She knew that Ash had once cared about her, at least. She thought back to the day when their travels had ended and she was forced to return home to look after the gym.
"I don't believe it could be just a coincidence that I met you out of all people," she remembered him saying. "We were meant to meet and become friends."
She remembered seeing what she thought was a tear fall from Ash's glistening brown eyes just before they went their separate ways. All the memories of the days on the road, the campouts under the stars, all the gym battles and new experiences... thinking back on all those times seemed to energize her.
Ash had always been there for her as kids. They had been through so much together that she just knew that she had to be there for him now. She wanted him to know that she still cared about him. She remembered back to what she had promised herself back when she was ten years old.
"Ash will never really be alone because he has… me."
Even if he didn't need her anymore, and even though years had passed since she had last seen him, she felt like she owed it to him to be there to support him in person. She had to keep her promise. It was now or never. This was the biggest moment of his training life. She had to be there with him.
Predictably, her mind pleaded with her to remain in bed and consider all the reasons why she should not go. Did she really want to confront Ash out of the blue after all these years? What if he did not want her there?
But again using all her wonderful childhood memories as fuel, she huffed and stiffened her lip. She had made up her mind. The gravity of the situation cancelled out any awkwardness or fear she might feel about seeing him.
With her newfound determination, she climbed out of bed once again. It was the strongest she had felt in months. She glanced over at the digital alarm clock on her night stand. The bright read numbers told her that it was late. Normal people were all sleeping now.
She could catch an overnight flight if she hurried. She knew she wouldn't make it in time for his first match, which was early in the afternoon. Frustrated that she hadn't found out about his participation sooner, she quickly threw together her suitcase. Still, better late than never.
As soon as she was packed, she suddenly remembered the gym.
She contemplated for what felt like another hour over what she would do next. She could always close the gym for a few days and say she was going on vacation. There wouldn't be many trainers coming in this week anyway, as everyone would surely be glued to their television sets to watch the tournament.
But what will I do or say if and when I see him? Should I hug him? Will he even talk to me? Does he even want me there? He will remember me, won't he?
All of those thoughts and more began racing through the teenage girl's head as she prepared to take this giant risk.
Finally, with conviction, the teen stood up and turned her bedroom lights on.
She shielded her eyes, knowing they would protest the sudden blinding flash. The flood of white light washed away the darkness, revealing the deep sea green-painted walls and pearly white woodwork. Quickly gathering her backpack, she took inventory of her supplies and money.
Finally, she used the new light to take one final appraisal of herself in the mirror. She felt like she hadn't seen herself like this in months, years maybe. Her eyes were no longer bloodshot and puffy but twinkling with hope. Her once fire-red hair had softened with age and now flowed down just past her shoulders as earthy copper locks.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded and smiled at her reflection. For now at least, the weight that seemed to linger, pushing on her chest was gone. Her persistent feeling of anxiety seemed to be eased by loyalty and a sense of duty. No matter how scared she was, she knew she had to go on. It's what he would do.
"He needs you," she whispered to herself confidently as she took up her pack, turned off her light, and exited the room.
The girl thought about the statement she'd just said to herself as she made her way down her dimly-lit hallway. She corrected herself sheepishly as she made her way out the front door and into the dark, cold night.
"Or… maybe you need him."