Good Day, Sunshine

By Harper's Eloquence

Summary: It all started on that day. When I was running from my own fans. And to think I always thought that they were the ones that were supposed to help you, not tackle you whenever you stepped outside! But with all due respects, I thank them. I mean, without their reckless abandon of their lives just to chase me down that side street and in to that ally, I would have never found that little wonder. The one hiding in the hat box behind those trash cans. The one with the tan skin, caramel eyes, and silky black hair...

Rating: Rated T for hints of abusive behavior, language, and probably some other terrible thing I haven't quite thought of yet. Rating subject to change.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, but I do own... uh, never mind. Spolier alert! Spoiler alert!

Chapter One:

The Cardboard Prince

"Damnit! Stupid cops. Can't even control the freakin crown around here!" A tall, slender man cursed to himself in a rough whisper. His dazzlingly shiny black hair swayed about in front of his eyes as he dashed around a street corner. His pants and sighs were loud, and it was evident that he had not wanted them to be that way. Suddenly, a hoard of screams began to echo across the dilapidated old apartments and factories which lined the lower east side of Jubilife city. Come to think of it, how the hell did I even get this far down here in the first place? The man in question happened to be shopping on the upper west side of town, which was much closer to his home (and much more luxurious), when all of a sudden, a mob of young girls wearing 'I Heart Ash Ketchum' t-shirts started to form around him like a flash flood, quickly blocking all exits. I must have run pretty far, He figured, taking a moment to relax and search for a proper hiding place, Who knew I still had it in me. Normally, the mobs chasing Ash were small and controlled. They happened pre and post battle performances, as well as during red-carpet walks and talk show appearances. Almost never did his fans deliberately attack him so close to his home. Let alone in such vast numbers.

Ash ran his long, slender fingers through his hair, and groaned when he realized what was missing. "My sunglasses," He whined, "And that was my favorite pair too." But there was no going back for them now. In fact, he would probably never see them again, considering two very likely events. Either (a) A fan discovered the deluxe edition SPF 75 high fashion glasses after he had dropped them, either pocketing them for herself or starting up a gang fight over who would get to keep them, thus destroying them entirely. Or (b) The overflowing river of screaming teenage girls gushed right through the spot where the glasses had fallen, thus they were trampled and are probably made up of a million tiny pieces now.

"Well at least I'm still in one piece," The champion sighed, but quickly cocked his head back up as the screeching and chants got louder, "At least for now. I've gotta find somewhere to hide until I can call Barry to come pick me up."

On impulse, Ash ducked over into a near-by ally, using a row of shiny metal trash cans as a wall, guarding him from his fans. I just hope there aren't any of those super fans lurking around here. I swear, some of them even know how to track me by smell, Ash laughed in his head at the foolish remark. But to be honest, it was kind of true. Ash could have been scared of someone like that if he wanted to. He was sure those people existed, but would they really hunt him down like that?

All of Ash's petty thoughts were soon demolished by the rattling of the ground. It was like an earthquake had struck! When in reality, all of that force was coming from the battalion of hundreds of girls in a violent race to find their 'Pokemon Master Prince' as he was called, better known by his actual name of Ash Ketchum. Ash cautiously peaked his head over one of the lids of a trash can, as he could feel the immense rumbling had begun to die down, and it was best he escaped while he still could. But just as he was about to head out, a small tug on the bottom of his black jeans caused him to stop mid-step and turn around. Clinging to his leg was a very small hand, which was attached to a very small, bony arm, which in turn attached to a literally meatless skeleton of a young boy, around two or three years old.

"Why hello there," Ash whispered sweetly, smiling down upon him, "How may I help you, little boy?" Ash bent down on one knee so he could be a little more at eye-level with the child, who seemed to be quivering over how tall Ash was. After becoming a little closer, the League Master seemed to calm the boy down, and he quickly ran up to his leg and hugged it with all his little might.

"Daddy," The boy moaned into Ash's soft, tan skin, "Daddy, please help me." Just then, his leg started to feel a little damp. The boy was crying. His tears weren't crystal clear though. His face was absolutely covered in dirt. It was smeared all over his cheeks like frosting on a cake, and other wounds all over his body were obvious due to patches of sludge forming around them. The little child was very thin, and the small paper loincloth wrapped around his waist definitely wasn't helping to keep him warm. His dark black hair was in a million knots: Just like Ash's used to be. It was almost like looking back in time at his former self, except with more dirt and less fat.

"Are you lost, sweetheart?" Ash probed, hoping to get some answers before Barry arrived and started being a complete speed demon like usual.

"No," The small child answered in a very weak tone, "This is where I live. I am the cardboard prince. I live in these boxes. My bed is that round one over there." He pointed a very feeble and shaky finger, directing Ash towards a small hatbox in the corner of the ally behind several other larger boxes. Baffled, the Master Trainer stumbled over to the makeshift castle, inspecting it.

"But, you can't live here," Ash choked, trying to hold back tears, "This isn't where I little boy like you belongs." Ash was about to offer the young boy something when suddenly, the sound of a car engine and a horn honking came from around the corner, parking outside one of the abandoned brick buildings which made up the ally. Ash's personal assistant and manager, Barry, rolled down the window and removed his sunglasses. An annoyed expression was plastered on his face.

"C'mon Ash, we don't have time for dumpster diving right now! We have to get back home before the girls get smart and realize where you're hiding!" He shouted anxiously, honking the horn again.

"Coming," Ash replied, impulsively grabbing the boy and stuffing him inside the hatbox, then closing the lid and throwing it in the trunk of his limousine. After closing the door to the backseat, the car proceded to drive back uptown at a fair speed.

"So," Barry began out of nowhere, "What was in that box you, ya know, stored in the back so fast I could have sworn you were smuggling drugs or something?" Ash flinched. He couldn't tell Barry about the homeless little boy he had found! He knew for sure that he wouldn't be allowed to keep him. So he needed to think of a logical response, and fast.

"Uh, it was just some shopping that I had. It fell into a dumpster, so I stuffed it in the back really fast. Otherwise, I probably would have reeked of garbage for the next week or so," Ash muttered. Barry nodded, though Ash couldn't see it, and they continued their drive back to Ash's penthouse in complete silence. Because even though Barry knew Ash was lying, he couldn't say any more than he did. Otherwise, his plan to figure out what was going on could easily fail.

So there you go, chapter one of my story about a little boy a lot like our favorite upcoming pokemon master... Eventually this might turn into a comashipping story, so don't blame me when you get knocked off your feet by the yaoi factor there. Remember, you were warned. Anyways, don't forget to review if you want a digital cookie! Thanks! ~ Harper's E.