1.

Gliding in from above the canopy of clouds, a medium sized commercial jet lazily floated down towards the Kalos region and (in no particular hurry) the lush green earth rose up to meet it. An air of familiarity settled in around the craft as it grew closer, brushing the air with a sense of preponderance. Great things were coming on this airplane, it seemed; and all nature was poised... Waiting for it.

That's what Satoshi thought at least, as he stared out the window from the comfort of his reclinable chair; his partner, pikachu, asleep on his lap. Desserts and forests rushed below them at mind melting pace, and the teenage Pokemon trainer's brain was agog with dreams of all the new creatures he'd meet below. Every region he'd visited before held its own unique flavors, and this new one was no doubt the same – but Satoshi promised himself... he wouldn't cheat. Despite the fact that, in his backpack, he had a copy of the Kalisian pokedex, Satoshi hadn't even looked at it. The young trainer preferred to experience these things first hand, you see; though the anticipation was getting to him.

Pikachu nuzzled in to Satoshi's lap just when (as if to whet his appetite) the universe tossed him a bone. At first, the sky was empty of all life and then – apparently from nowhere – a streak of crimson hot flame blazed past his window. "What's that!?" Satoshi yelled, perhaps a little too loudly at no one in particular, though the young woman who was sitting next to him responded. "Pardon?" She asked, staring blankly at the foreign boy.

Satoshi knew only a few words in Kalisian, and 'pardon' was not amongst them. Maybe it was a Pokemon? Pardon... no, there was no way they'd name a fire bird 'Pardon'. Trying his hardest, Satoshi attempted to communicate through a combination of Kantonease, hand gestures, and broken Kalisian. "What..." he said, raising his hands into an exaggerated 'w'. "Was that..." pointing out the window. "Pokemon?" Finishing his query, the young trainer flapped his arms like a bird.

"Oh! Pokemon!" The woman responded with excitement. "Ce Talonflame." revealed the other passenger.

"Ce Talonflame?" Satoshi repeated slowly, marveling at the sound. Ce Talonflame must be really powerful.

Smiling bashfully, the woman shook her head. "No, no, no... Ce nes pas 'Ce Talonflame.'" Satoshi stared at her, still baffled. "Pas Talonflame."

"Not 'Ce Talonflame', huh?" Satoshi thought for a moment – eventually smiling. 'Talonflame' was just as cool a name as 'Ce Talonflame'. That, and it'd be way easier to pronounce. "Thanks – er – Merky."

"Mercy." The woman corrected, smiling. "Ce bon."

Unsure what that meant, Satoshi just grinned and nodded. Before he could get another word in, however; a gentle bonging sound leaped through the air. A flight attendant said something in Kalisian that Satoshi didn't catch, but luckily for him; she repeated it in Unovan (a language Satoshi had been taught in primary school). "We're coming in for landing, please fasten your seat belts." Or something to that effect, at least. The flight attendant's accent was pretty thick.

Leaning back in his seat, Satoshi decided it would be a good time to thumb through that Kantonease to Kalisian dictionary his mom had packed for him. Ever since his first journey throughout the Kanto region – where he'd grown up – this had been a bit of a tradition between them. She'd try her hardest to embarrass him with spare sets of underwear and seemingly useless knickknacks, while he'd try his best to get away before that happened. As of now, the score was 3 to 1 – she'd packed his bags for Kanto, Hoenn, and Johto; but, when he went to Unova, his step dad was the one who bought him to the airport – thus sparing Satoshi the embarrassment. Of course this time, his mom had cottoned on to him, and gotten Oak to do it for her.

Still, Satoshi had to laugh. When in Unova, it was all he could do to get by on his elementary Unovan – though he'd gotten nearly fluent in his time there. Having a translation would come in handy this time around, however; and so he started flipping lazily through the dictionary. Satoshi came to the 'S' section and looked up his own name. "Satoshi... Ash." He muttered to himself. "Here, I'm Ash."

Down on his luck and tired of begging for food, Citron was in another pickle. When he'd first been locked out of his home (and incidentally, the national landmark Prism Tower) Citron didn't think he'd starve. At the time, he and his sister had a thousand poke to their name, and for a while; could eat like kings (well, a king and queen), but that was a week ago and with Eureka's appetites their money had evaporated quickly.

Of course, being the unreasonable little toad that she was, his sister had gone back to their father – always willing to take them in when they needed help, Citron's father had extended the same offer to him. Of course, Citron was quick to decline.

When he was ten, Citron and his dad had a falling out – of course, the paternal figure claimed that it was 'all good' and 'under the bridge', but Citron didn't share this optimism. Even though that was years ago now Citron had always been stubborn. That was why he'd never ask for his father for help directly, but his sister on the other hand... "Come on, Eureka. Just a little." Though Citron was on his knees, hands clasped in front of his sister (and despite the fact that she stood two steps above him) they were still on eye level. "I'm really hungry!"

"I already told you." Eureka spat. "If you want food you can come inside!"

"But I don't want to come in!" Citron rose, thinking that perhaps looking down on his sister might put him at a stronger debating position. The opposite, however; proved to be the case. Although Eureka was half his height she looked down on him with no difficulty. "Please... just a loaf of bread."

"You and dad have been fighting way too long. It's time you made up."

"Eureka!"

"Citron!"

"Fine." Defeated, Citron's shoulders fell. With a smug grin, the little girl turned around and started to lead her big brother inside. The smell of warm crepes floated through the open door, and Citron's stomach rumbled louder and louder with ever taste of this stimulation.

Then it hit him. An idea that would solve not only his hunger, but something that would delay Citron's homecoming. "Wait, Eureka!" The little girl stopped in her tracks, she'd heard that voice before. "I know how to get us back inside."

Without turning around, Eureka considered. "Go on." She eventually responded, very carefully.

"The future is now, thanks to -"

"You don't need to say that."

"Right..." Citron hung his head. "Well, it's simple." The young scientist continued, adjusting his spectacles. "Clembot wants to fight a trainer with four badges, right?"

"Right..."

"Well... all we need to do is find a trainer who's got four."

Slowly, Citron's little sister turned – locking her steely blue eyes with his watery ones. "What does that have to do with science?"

Thinking about it for a second, Citron realized that he had no answer. "Will you help me?"

"Dad has eight badges."

"No!" Citron sunk to the floor, his face resting on the stone step. "We can't ask him..." he grumbled.

Eureka rolled her eyes. "Well, I'll be here when you change your mind." and with that, she was gone from the doorway.

"Wait, Eureka! I -" The door slammed. "Fine." Slowly, but with rising frustration, Citron got to his feet. "I'll find a trainer with four badges who can challenge Clembot! Then we'll see who's..." Realizing that she was no longer listening, Citron stopped. A little frustrated that he couldn't get the last word in, he decided it'd be better if he just turned and walked away dramatically.

That too, was unsuccessful, however; as he tripped on the bottom step.

Some time later, Citron found himself on the side of the street outside Prism Tower – where he'd spent the last few days. "Pokemon battles!" He yelled to no one in particular. "My bunnelby can take anything!"

After a moment of silence, an especially cruel passerby shouted back "What moron trains a fucking bunnelby!?"

Filled with rage, Citron considered very seriously swearing back at him – but he didn't know any good curse words, or how to use them; and anyway, the moment had passed. Disappointed, Citron looked down at his only pokeball. "They're right..." he muttered to himself. "How am I 'sposed to battle with just one pokemon?"

In his depression, Citron leaned back against the steal buttress which supported his monument home. From just inside, he could almost feel the electric surge of his other pokemon. Magnemite, magneton, heliolisk – to name a few. They were all in there without him. No doubt battling unsuspecting trainers at the command of his robot... What a mistake Clembot had been.

"Wow, science is so amazing, huh pikachu?" The voice came as a surprise to Citron, and he looked up to discover its source. Unsurprisingly, a Kantonease tourist with a pikachu. Even though Citron's Kantonease was rusty, he could pick out most of what the boy said... of course, what he really understood was how excited the tower made him; something about that caused Citron no small amount of happiness. Another electric trainer, coming here. Now. Was it kismet?

Jumping to his feet, Citron ran up to the boy – hand extended. "Hello – you me, very much hi there" was about the extent of Citron's Kantonease, and he could tell from the look on this young trainer's face that it made as little sense to him as it did to Citron.

Still, in typically Kantonease fashion, the boy was polite. Smiling, he extended his arm and introduced himself in just as terrible Kalisian. "Hi, me Ash."

Citron squinted. Was Ash his name or more a state of being. Desperate to solve this equation Citron focused his keen scientific mind to the issue. "Orren?" he asked, but the boy just squinted at him. "Sinhouease?" Still nothing. Getting a little worried, Citron tried what he thought would be the least likely for this Ash to speak. "Unovan?"

And like a lightbulb, Ash's face lit up. "Yeah, I speak Unovan."

Citron thanked his lucky stars, and proceeded to introduce himself properly. "Hi, my name is Cit -" his own name didn't sound right in Unovan, so the young scientist quickly scanned his brain for a suitable equivalent. "Clemont."

"Wow, not so fast." The other boy blushed. "Clemont, right?"

"Yes, Clemont." he responded, realizing that although this tourist spoke Unovan, he apparently didn't speak it especially well. "You said your name is Ash, right?"

"Yup, Ash Ketchum." Beamed the boy. Clemont tried his hardest not to laugh at that last name – perhaps it didn't translate well, or maybe Ash was more football star than science geek. "I'm a pokemon trainer. This is my partner, pikachu."

"Pika!" The small yellow rodent added cheerfully.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Clemont extended his hand again, but Ash only stared down at it uncomfortably. Suddenly, Clemont remembered something he'd read about Kanto – how physical contact was impolite, and a simple bow was the respectful way to great strangers. "I'm so sorry." he said, bowing deeply.

Ash grinned and took Clemont's hand – shaking it roughly. "That's ok. Hey, pikachu and I are looking to challenge the gym. You know where it is?"

This was all too perfect, Clemont thought to himself. For the last week he'd been waiting around in this spot for one person to challenge the gym – someone who would stand a chance against his robotic counterpart, and here he was. "It's right behind me." the young gym leader grinned.

"Great!" Ash all but yelled. "Come on, pikachu!" and with that, he walked towards the gates.

"Wait, Ash!"

"What?" Turning on a dime, the young trainer looked back at Clemont.

"You need four badges to challenge him."

"Just four?" Ash laughed. His pikachu also joined on the joke, saying something that only Ash could understand. "Pikachu and I have thirty."

Clemont's eyes bulged – this wasn't just a tourist, as he'd previously assumed. Ash was one of those jet setters who traveled the world, clearing Pokemon leagues and breaking hearts. Though he was impressed before, Ash's casual confidence suddenly made sense and (for the first time in a long time) Clemont did something without thinking. "Can we battle first?"