Ash Ketchum jerked up. His eyes flared wide, he panted heavily as his dream took him from a deep, deep sleep to completely awake in a matter of seconds. His heart slammed against his ribcage. Each beat sent a whomp whomp through his ears. He ran a hand across his forehead, flicking off a sheen of sweat.
The young boy looked around his room. Doodads and other pieces of his life were scattered around. A small television set was set to a trainer battle highlight channel, featuring reruns of old conference and gym battles. As Ash tried to focus, he could tell the gym featured this time was the one in Vermillion.
He shook his head slightly and continued to look around. There, hanging off a lamp was his new Pokémon League hat, just one of a hundred and won by sending in so many postcards.
Everything seemed normal, just as he had left it when he went to sleep. He may need to clean, but other than that, there was nothing strange or different. At least, not that he noticed.
As he lay back down – it was the middle of the night after all – he didn't notice his window open and close, a shimmering shape slipping away. As his eyes drifted closed, he would not see a highly stylized musical note on the outside of his shoulder. A note that would change him immensely, tattooing him as touched, chosen.
It was clearly the work of a power beyond that of a tattoo artist. There was no scarring, no irritation of the surrounding skin, no need to treat the shoulder any differently, no infection, and most importantly, no hint as to how the mark came to be permanently attached to Ash.
When Ash awoke the next morning, he went to breakfast like normal. He changed to go help in the yard. It wasn't until late morning when the daily routine was upset.
It was a warm morning for Pallet Town, warm enough that Ash pulled his tee-shirt off to continue working.
"What is that Ash?" His mother asked.
When he blinked in confusion, she touched the black ink of the note on his shoulder with a finger.
"I don't know, I mean, I had a bad dream, but it didn't have anything to do with this. At least, I don't think so." Ash said.
Delia Ketchum sighed before asking, "What dream?"
"I was standing in a big room, I couldn't see very far because it was very dark and there was a really bright light shining in my eyes. I heard from around me 'What is Life if not a stage?' Then I woke up. It was still really early, so I went back to bed." Ash explained.
/\/\/\/\/\
Two years passed. Time played its game, of moving faster than imaginable some days and months, while other periods seemed to stretch into infinity. The last few days having seemed like a month all themselves, as today was an important day for Ash. Today was his long awaited, eagerly anticipated first day of his Pokémon journey.
And so he pulled on his jeans as he hopped out of his bedroom, his black tee-shirt tossed over his shoulder and hat clutched in his teeth.
Ash had not meant to oversleep. It was just something he did. Most of the time, he had no explanation or excuse, he just slept. Today, however, was created by a dream. Not just any dream, but one dream in particular.
This dream was the one he had experienced on and off for two years. He would stand in a dark space, sometimes he could see more than other times. Once he was on the stage in the Theater. Another, he was in the middle of a field. This time, he had been in the center of an arena. Sometimes there would be a crowd, uncountable eyes watching him intently. Other times, like this last dream, there was no noise, no movement, nothing except the sensation of being watched from every angle.
From around him came the same question that came to identify these dreams as different, because every one of these strange dreams asked the same question.
"What is Life if not a Stage?"
Ash pulled his shirt on over his head, hair wild and untamable, as he ran through the streets. Professor Oak's Ranch was just a couple of blocks away and he was definitely going to make it in time to receive a Pokémon. He put his hat on over his head. Finally, he was old enough before a journey day to be sent out into the world. Some people chose to stay around the area they were born or to skip the journey. Ash wanted to see the world and he was going to make the most of his journey.
As he skidded to a stop in front of the Professor's Ranch and Laboratory, he saw the dust of Gary Oak's convertible as the 10 year old rival of Ash had one of his groupies drive him away from Pallet. Ash shook his head slightly and headed onto the grounds of the Ranch.
Ash darted up a well manicured dirt path, leading up the hill to where the Ranch stood proudly. A tall windmill behind the main building gave the laboratory a distinct flavor and the sounds of Pokémon floated in the air from the pastures behind the building.
When he got to the door, he called out, "Professor Oak? Are you there? It is me, Ash, sorry I am late!"
A moment later, an older man stuck his head out the door, a smile on his face. "You haven't been late for a while Ash, what kept you?"
Before his first strange dream, Ash had been chronically late. After that first dream, Ash started appearing early, if not exactly on time. Eventually, his Mother asked him about it and all he could say was 'The stage waits for no one.'
"A weird dream, like the others. Anyway, am I too late?"
Professor Oak shook his head, "No Ash, you are fine. You are cutting it close, but are not really late."
The two headed in through the main door, past a comfortable living room with a beautiful coffee table and plush sofas.
It was only a few moments, but to Ash it felt like an eternity, for the two to reach the sterile and stark laboratory. The Professor continued forward as Ash started to fall behind.
"Every year, Ash, the regional Pokémon Professors are asked to identify three of their best and brightest. Those three are given specially bred Pokémon for their journey. Those Pokémon are rare in the wild, but not so rare as to be only found through the Professors."
Professor Oak turned around, Pokéball in hand. On the upper red half of the ball a jagged lightening bolt blazed proudly.
"In the past, I, along with my colleagues, have occasionally needed to expand that three to more, more frequently four than five or more. Regardless of how many new trainers there are, there is always the last one who is given a Pokémon without the benefit of choice. Today, that trainer is you."
"I understand Professor," Ash said, "I am sorry I was unable to get here on time to be part of the ceremony."
"Nonsense my boy, today is not one of regret or apologizes. You got here as soon as you could and now you are going on a Pokémon journey."
The professor put the Pokéball on a table between his workspace and Ash. The older man moved behind the table, getting into a drawer as he continued to talk. "Now, not all ten year olds want to become Pokémon trainers. We do our best to make sure those who do have the opportunity, regardless of what Pokémon they receive on or before their journey. On these days, those new trainers come to a Professor or a local Nurse Joy to receive this, their Pokédex."
A red device was placed next to the Pokéball, it was about twice as tall as it was wide. Ash could see some cameras and that the front would open like a door to reveal certain contents – such as a screen probably.
The Professor continued to move, now reaching up into another drawer as Ash inspected the Pokédex from afar. Unlike the first Pokéball, which was expanded, the five shrunk Pokéballs on the table had no embellishments.
"Talk with any Nurse Joy and they can help you get more Pokéballs or can direct you where to purchase more. Ash, it is time for you Pokémon Journey. Are you ready?"
Ash nodded, not trusting his voice. He reached forward, collecting the Pokédex and putting it in his back pocket while the extra Pokéballs went in his front pocket. Finally, his hand lightly grazed the specially marked Pokéball. Ash glanced at the Professor.
"May I?"
At the older man's nod, Ash triggered the device which emitted a stream of white which formed into a small yellow Pokémon. It's long ears ended in a dark brown and it's flat tail was stiff, though clearly in the jagged shape of a lightening bolt. Horizontal stripes ran up its back.
Ash knelt down and looked it in the eyes.
"Hello, I am Ash."
The Pokémon snorted, turning away, "Pikaa."
"I guess I am your trainer now. We are going on a journey."
The Pokémon let a few sparks from its cheeks, but gave no other response.
Ash looked up at the Professor, who answered the unasked question. "All Pokémon, like all humans, have their own personalities, joys, and desires. It can take some time for the bond between human and Pokémon to form and develop."
Ash stood up and gave a sharp nod. He pulled the Pokédex from his pocket. "Is there anything I should know about this?"
/\/\/\/\/\
It was about an hour later as Ash, Pikachu moping and irritable in Ash's arms, stepped off the Ranch's grounds. Waiting for him was his Mom, a big grin on her face.
"Everything go well?"
Ash looked at the surly Pokémon in his arms. "I believe so. It should just take a bit of time. Anyway, the show must go on."
Delia laughed, "Well, I brought your back pack with everything you need, including clean pairs of underwear."
"Thank you Mom, you are the best."
Ash carefully put Pikachu on the ground, Pikachu in response turned away from him. Back at the Ranch, Ash had scanned the electric type Pokémon with the Pokédex. For as interesting as the blurb on the species was, Ash was more interested in the Pokémon's attitude than anything. Ash stepped forward and gave his Mom a big hug.
"I am heading out Mom. I will call you from the Pokémon Center when I get there."
"Take care of yourself." Delia said, "Oh my baby boy, you are going to be amazing."
"Thanks and I will."
/\/\/\/\/\
That evening, Ash sat on the edge of the bed of the Pokémon Center in Viridian City. It had been quite the hectic day, what with meeting Pikachu, meeting Misty, running from a flock of Spearow, and Pikachu needing medical attention. Still, it had been a pleasure meeting Nurse Joy.
Then there were those three idiots from Team Rocket. It wasn't like they were too hard to deal with, but still, it had just been the cherry on top of the sundae. Well, it would have been had Misty not caught up with him yelling about her bike. Really, all he could hope for was that tomorrow would be a better day.
Still, there was something tickling the back of his mind. He had tossed and turned for a long time before sitting up to try and figure it out. Something about how he was talking to Pikachu. Something about not really wanting to capture new Pokémon yet. Something about elegance and grace in battle and life. Being something more?
None of that was strange exactly, but it was different. It was almost as if the voice from those weird dreams was constantly in his head. No, more than that, almost as if the voice was trying to comment on the decisions he was making at the time he was trying to decide what to do.
Of course, his headache was less from the dream voice and more from Misty. She seemed like she could be nice, but she had a set of lungs on her. Not to mention a bit of an attitude. Ash had tried talking to her, but all he got was more complaints. The rain was miserable. He ruined her bicycle. He owed her. It was all a bit much.
He had run into Misty as the rain started down and Pikachu was feeling the effects of illness. A stray ThunderShock attack had arced out a few minutes into Ash asking for directions. How was he supposed to know a sick Pikachu would strike the nearest metal object with lightning?
Pokémon and people get sick. It happens and there are side effects. What did she want from him? He had only been a trainer for a few hours by the time they met.
Still, it was interesting.
Misty had decided she was going to follow him until her bike was replaced. Ash took a deep breath, focusing on the fact it was after midnight. She had every right to do what she thought was best and it could be nice to have someone to talk with on the journey. Hopefully she would stop yelling soon so they could talk.
Yes, he had Pikachu with him and Pikachu was family. Or, at least, Ash looked forward to the day Pikachu was family. Ash looked over at the sleeping Pokémon, running an hand over his partner's head and back.
Underneath, no that was not the right word. Behind? Echoing? Maybe that. Echoing through his brain was the question that had woken him up from his dreams for years. The question he desperately wanted an answer for.
"What is life if not a stage?"
/\/\/\/\/\
/\/\/\/\/\
Ash sat down heavily, putting his pack to the side. Now deep in Viridian Forrest, the last few days had been interesting. Yes, interesting was the most positive way to spin it. A less charitable person would describe it as frustrating or stupid.
First, Pikachu was still being stubborn. Ash sighed, that wasn't a kind or even fair way of describing it. Pikachu was trying to understand his new trainer and Ash was trying to do the same. The understanding Ash was looking for would take time and dedication by both of them. While they both had taken steps, that was all, just steps.
While they had walked together for a while, Pikachu eventually had climbed onto his shoulder. Still, Ash felt the emotional distance.
It made traveling a bit awkward. After all, Pikachu was willing to listen and travel with him, but still did not completely trust Ash.
Then, and much more frustrating, was Misty stayed about fifteen feet behind him at all times. Just glowering, arms crossed. She refused to walk with him the entire day, but she also refused to let him go his own way. Behind his back, she muttered off and on all day about the ruined bike, completely ignoring every time he would apologize and ask her to talk with him.
Well, if Misty wanted to follow him forever, he would just have to get used to it.
The boy smiled as he worked to start a campfire. Other than those minor inconveniences, the day had been rather pleasant. It was fantastic getting the opportunity to see what was on the other side of the hill. Now in the Forrest, what was behind the next old, giant tree.
The fire sparked to life and started to burn merrily.
Ash dug into his pack. He had done so briefly here and there, mostly seeking something in particular each time. In doing so, he kept reminding himself to check and see everything his Mom had packed. This time, he pulled a book out.
It was a notebook, with a lime green cover. There was nothing else on the cover, so Ash flipped thorugh it quickly. It was a blank notebook, no lines, and almost no writing. The exception Ash found when he pulled a pen out of his backpack and turned to the first page. There in his Mother's handwriting was a note.
Ash, I am so proud of you! You have grown so much and you are ready for your Pokémon Journey. I wanted you to have a notebook to keep track of anything you want. Good luck! Mom – P.S. Don't forget to change your underwear!
Ash smiled, his Mom was the best. And he already had something to write, it had been bouncing around in the back of his mind for the last hour or so.
Drifting white clouds dance
Blue sky painted by tallest trees
Leading to new days
Ash blinked, looking over the short poem again. Haiku? It seemed like it. It was not a perfect poem, but still. This poem seemed to be something more. Was it because of that dream voice? Or because he finally had something to say? He turned to Pikachu.
"That was strange. I have written haikus for class before, but this seems to have come rather easily."
"Pikaaa? Pika pi pika pikachu?"
Not really understanding everything Pikachu said, Ash grinned. "It is not really a problem, it is just weird and I wanted to share it with you. Anyway, that wasn't what I wanted to write down to begin with."
Ash turned the page before putting pen to paper again. "Alright, Pikachu, nod if you know a move. ThunderShock? ThunderWave? Quick Attack? Agility? Thunderbolt? Growl?"
As Pikachu nodded or shook his head for each move, Ash's pen darted across the page, listing the moves Pikachu knew. After listing off all the moves he could remember in relation to Pikachus generally, Ash had a list of moves his Pikachu could perform.
He hummed, "You are awesome Pikachu, you know some really great moves. But moves and power aren't everything. "After all, what is life if not a stage?"
He froze as soon as the words left his mouth. Licking his lips, Ash continued, "I think at the next Pokémon Center, I need to talk with Professor Oak."
His eyes drifted back across the page, to the listed moves. Ash rubbed Pikachu's head, getting a pleased "Chuuu."
"I have the outline of an idea, but I want to think it through a little bit more. Why don't we go to sleep? Tomorrow is going to be a good day."
/\/\/\/\/\
That night, Ash dreamed. The darkness was around him again, but instead of panic, Ash felt like he was exactly where he needed to be. It was comforting to be on the theater stage, to see the bright lights hiding the audience, if there was one.
The dream voice spoke, distorted through distance, quietly echoing from beyond vision and dream.
"YOU ARE ALMOST READY. OUR BOND WILL BE VISIONARY AND I WILL BE YOUR MUSE. MANY FAVOR YOU, MANY HAVE CHOSEN YOU. YOU REACHED BACK TO ME AND ONLY ME. IN TIME I WILL HELP YOU TOUCH THE GIFTS OF OTHERS. WITH ME, YOU WILL CREATE YOUR OWN DESTINY. SLEEP ASH AND KNOW I AM CLOSE, YOU ARE PROTECTED.
SEEK TO ANSWER, SEEK TO BE.
WHAT IS LIFE IF NOT A STAGE?"
The lights seemed to dim and Ash drifted into a deeper sleep, a sleep uninterrupted by dreams.
Yet, when Ash woke the next morning, feeling refreshed, Ash could remember the entire message. Quickly, he wrote it down in the journal. Perhaps this visitor would return, but for now, he had something to take back to the Professor.
/\/\/\/\/\