Edited: 07.05.2017
The morning Sun was shining through his bedroom window as he was putting his clothes on, getting ready to go to Prof. Oak's lab. His mother was preparing his backpack and filling it with the essentials, having promised she would see him off at the gates of the Professor's home. She would bring him his pack then.
He pushed his arms through the short sleeves of the black t-shirt with the folded collar, his azure jeans already on him. Initially, he had opted for a short-sleeved, blue jacket and a black shirt underneath, but Samuel Oak had insisted that he wear a light t-shirt for the duration of the summer, which were perpetually hot in the Kanto region. Covered in sweat isn't the new anything, he had said, and Ash couldn't fault his reasoning. Ergo, the new set of clothes.
He tightened his belt, designed especially for holding pokeballs. Six he would receive for free from Prof. Oak, one of them occupied by a Pokemon of his choice, his starter Pokemon. Excited jitters coursed through his body, though he hid it well enough with practiced composure. For a while now, he had felt the need to go out there, to train Pokemon and battle with them. To explore and conquer, so to speak.
He was not yet sure which of the traditionally offered starters he would choose, but he had already decided that Bulbasaur would be his last choice. He didn't really favor Charmander and Squirtle over it, the plant-like Pokemon simply didn't fit well with his preferred speedy combat style. Though Blastoise, Squirtle's final form, wasn't particularly fast either, it at least had a hard shell to protect itself, unlike Venusaur.
As he headed for the door, his eyes landed on a large book on his desk.
A Children's Encyclopedia On Pokemon Outside Of Kanto, by Samuel Oak
He remembered the day he received it, given to him by the very author.
The day the venerable Professor had accepted him as his student.
He had been such an excitable kid back then, with a heart full of love for all Pokemon and a determination-will-let-you-plow-through-any-obstacle sort of attitude. A naivete many adults would find endearing and adorable.
He fully understood why his mentor had thought it prudent to take him under his wing. In the real world, things were never that simple. He learned that particular lesson the hard way.
The excruciatingly hard way.
The raven-haired boy grabbed his left shoulder, the wound beneath the shirt there to remind him of his stupidity. Every day he would glimpse it in the mirror, the healed wound looking like a Spinarak had made a web underneath the skin of his shoulder. It had been a terribly painful injury he had received that day eight months ago, now dubbed by him, his mother and the Professor as 'The Incident'. It had changed him, for the better in his opinion.
But he didn't think the cost had been worth it.
He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the negative train of thought. No sense in brooding anymore. After reaching downstairs, he exited his house and set course for the lab. As expected, it was hot on the morning of July 1st in Pallet Town, the three heads of the town's Dodrio screeching in tandem. It took him near ten minutes to arrive at the old man's front door before ringing the doorbell. He waited patiently until the door was opened by said old man.
"Right on time, Ash. Come in," Samuel Oak greeted him with a smile. The boy returned the greeting with a nod and entered.
They passed various rooms that held the most cutting edge technology and equipment in the world before reaching the one where the Professor gave away the starters, which also happened to be the main laboratory. A large, cylindrical machine stood near the right corner, three pokeballs on the platform forming a triangle. The two of them came to stand in front of it and Ash could see that each pokeball had a sticker that signified which type of Pokemon was in each one.
"Tell me, have you decided which of the starters you would choose?" the 55 year-old man asked, his hands folded behind his back.
"Not really, but I'd take either a Charmander or Squirtle if they're available. I don't think I'd do well with a Bulbasaur right now," Ash answered promptly.
"Not to worry, I still have a few of each species, as you should know." The boy did indeed know that, having had a hand in raising them himself. "However, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind a bit of a breach in tradition. You see, I found a Pokemon that I think would fit you perfectly," Prof. Oak said before pushing one of the buttons, causing the hatch in the middle of the platform to open.
This surprised him, unusual as it was. Of course, not all Trainers began with one of the usual regional starters, but that was normally achieved through family or other familial connections, not through regional professors. It was more-or-less a privilege, he thought somewhat proudly. As a pokeball was raised through the hatch, he saw a lighting-styled sticker on the device, immediately alluding him to the type that resided within.
Electric-type, huh? He could work with that. Like lightening itself, most of them were naturally fast and nimble. For him, that was good.
Prof. Oak took the ball and pressed the button on it, causing it to open and release a beam of white energy. The energy materialized on the machine, close to the pokeballs. As the light died down, the raven-haired boy saw that it had formed into a small, yellow Pokemon with red circles on its cheeks and a rectangular tail. It's black, beady eyes stared forward at them innocently.
"I certainly hope you can tell me what species this is, my boy?"
Ash resisted the urge to roll his eyes, of course he knew it was a Pikachu. The Professor knew he knew. It was him that made damn-well sure that he would always answer that question correctly, regardless of what Pokemon he found in front of him, thanks to that encyclopedia he had given him.
It was a system he had designed especially for him. He would personally tutor Ash three times a week, twice during the working days and once during the weekend. He would assign him 'homework' before each lesson, which was to learn everything the book had to offer of about three to four Pokemon. At the weekend, if the old man determined he hadn't done well enough the previous week, as punishment, he would forbid him to play with the Pokemon in his corral the next week.
Back then, that had been more horrifying than if he had said he would pull one of his teeth out for each time he failed.
Needless to say, it was an effective motivator to study.
Since the encyclopedia only had knowledge on Pokemon native outside of Kanto, the ones indigenous to their region he was taught by the Professor himself at their private lessons. Results spoke for themselves and he was proud to say that he could put a name to the face of virtually every Pokemon species in the world.
Samuel Oak was a man who believed in careful preparedness and practiced skill, that they triumphed even over experience often enough. He emphasized the importance of rational thought and observations, as a scientist should, but he believed it was something that ought to be applied beyond just science. Discretion was the better part of valor, he liked to preach. Through his teachings - and with no little help from The Incident - Ash had come to accept it too.
"How come I'm receiving a Pikachu?" he asked with a confused frown.
"Well, we both know your fighting style is to hit hard and hit fast, and I thought a Pikachu would be a good way to start putting what you learned to practice. Consider it a parting gift if you will. After today, most of your lessons you'll be learning independently without my guidance," he responded.
Ash shook his head, "While that's mildly flattering, that's not what I meant. What I meant was why are you giving me a Pokemon that is in its evolved form? Don't you have to give rookies Pokemon in their pre-evolved state?" Part of the reason for his inquiry was also because he was worried that Prof. Oak was giving him an evolved Pokemon out of pity. Ever since eight months ago, some of his well-meaning sternness had evaporated and, after Ash had recovered from his injuries, he had taken the tutoring easier on him.
The notion that his mentor would lighten his load as a rookie Pokemon Trainer out of pity bothered him more than he was willing to admit.
Surprisingly, he smirked slightly and gestured towards the electric mouse, inviting him to approach it. Him, he could see thanks to his tail, as female Pikachu had a V-shaped notch at the end of theirs. However, when he took a step closer the Pokemon narrowed his eyes in anger and growled at him, electricity threateningly emitting from his cheeks. He stopped immediately. The deep mistrust in Pikachu's expression as palpable as a lit candle in a dark room, he dared not approach any closer. Still facing the Mouse Pokemon, he moved his gaze to Prof. Oak and noticed the light-hearted smirk still present on his face.
That conniving, old man. There was a catch. Ordinarily, all Pokemon that regional professors gave away to new Trainers were expecting to be taken eventually, and the professors taught them to be at least accepting of it, if not intrinsically obedient.
It seemed he was wrong. He wasn't going to make it easy for him.
"As I said, it's time you put your training to practice. You see, I caught this Pikachu two days back and despite besting him in battle, he is unusually uncooperative and rowdy. But earning a Pokemon's respect is a mark of a good Trainer and I figured this could be my final test to you." His mentor then gave him a look, "After all, trust is important in a bond, is it not?"
Trust, a concept he had fought with since The Incident. It was perhaps the most significant change the event had brought in him; his trust was no longer blind, whether towards people or Pokemon. He had to give the Professor props; he really was a conniving, old man, making him face his issues like this.
"Yeah, I guess it is," he agreed. Deciding it was best to do it from a distance, he graced Pikachu with a slight smile, "Hey, my name is Ash Ketchum and I'll be your new buddy." Long enough to become an old one hopefully was left unsaid.
Pikachu raised a non-existent eyebrow before stubbornly turning away. He stopped growling at least.
Ash just raised an eyebrow as well, not at all affected by the Pokemon's obstinate demeanor. He wouldn't be the first one, as not all residents of Oak's corral were friendly and meek. He turned to the Professor, "Can I have the Pokedex and pokeballs?"
The man nodded and reached into the pockets of his lab coat. He outstretched his hands after fishing them out, one holding the red device and the other holding the pokeballs, "Here. Like I promised, I've programmed the Pokedex to allow you to posses up to twelve Pokemon at a certain time. Should you feel overwhelmed at any point, I highly recommend you immediately send one or two Pokemon to the lab. Don't go biting off more than you can chew."
Ash nodded, having had this conversation with the aged researcher an almost-exasperating several times already.
"It's your responsibility to care for your charges," Samuel Oak said seriously, 'charges' meaning the Pokemon he would catch. "If either a league official or I myself find that you weren't able to take ample care of them, you may temporarily get your Trainer's license revoked, so I strongly advise you to not get ahead of yourself. Apart from that, the Pokedex has been programmed to contain information on foreign Pokemon as well."
"I understand. I'll be sure to take good care of all Pokemon I catch, starting with Pikachu," he said, purposely adding the last part for his starter to hear.
Pikachu looked curiously at the boy, but shook his head and looked away again. It was slight, but it was progress. Ash took the objects before activating his Pokedex and pointing it towards Pikachu. As soon as the scanner hit the electric rodent, an electronic voice spoke out.
Pikachu, the Mouse Pokemon and the evolved form of Pichu. It has small electric sacs on both it's cheeks. If threatened, it looses electric charges from the sacs. This Pikachu is male and has the ability Static. It has additionally unlocked the hidden ability Lightning Rod. He knows the moves Thunder Shock, Growl, Thunder Wave, Quick Attack and Agility. He also has the egg move Volt Tackle which has not been unlocked yet.
"Not bad for a starter. I'm especially impressed that Pikachu will be able to unlock Volt Tackle. It's the most powerful Electric-type attack along with Thunder," Prof. Oak said with his hand on his chin.
"I haven't heard of that move," Ash said, impressed by the move but contrite by his lack of knowledge of it, while Pikachu puffed up his chest in pride.
"A powerful move only those of the Pichu line are able to utilize. The Pokedex has all the information you need to know."
The boy nodded, observing the Pokemon's proud expression and posture, "Pikachu, do you like battling and getting stronger?"
Though he didn't answer him in any way, his distrustful eyes glinted with a restrained fire.
"I'd like to make a deal with you," he said, causing a bit of curiosity to overtake the Pokemon's visage. "I promise I'll do my best to train you and every other Pokemon that wants to journey with me, but you'll have to follow my orders during battle and any training regimen I make for you."
As expected, the suspicion was back on Pikachu's face with a scowl and he growled again, his cheeks expelling small but dangerous looking sparks of electricity. He may want to become stronger, but there was no way he was going to be anyone's slave to achieve that. Hell, if Arceus himself asked him, he'd have no compunction of giving the God of Pokemon the finger (not really, but the point still stood).
Knowing how it sounded, the raven-haired youth raised his hands in what he hoped was a pacifying manner, "I'm not expecting you to trust me as a friend or anything, but at least give me some time to prove that your strength and your health will be on the forefront of my mind. We'll be doing this as equals and with time I hope we can become friends, so feel free to let me know whenever you think I'm being unreasonable."
The Pokemon considered his words and calmed down soon afterwards, still a bit tense. With a relieved sigh, Ash took Pikachu's pokeball, which caused said Pokemon to glare at the device, something that didn't go unnoticed by his new Trainer. He paused, looking contemplative, before he put the pokeball next to the other ones. Taking a deep breath, a shudder going through his body as he steeled his nerves, he summoned the courage to slowly outstretch his arm towards Pikachu, who gave him a wary look of confusion. Neither saw the small but proud smile on Samuel Oak's face.
"You didn't exactly put any effort into hiding how much you hate your pokeball. I promised that we were gonna do this as equals, so I won't force you into it. This way, you can leave me anytime you want and I won't release you. What it means is that nobody would be able to catch you again because you would still have the pokeball's imprint on you," the ten year-old said, his expression sincere, but still looking somewhat discomforted.
Pikachu's eyes widened, obviously not expecting that. After about half a minute of the raven-haired boy patiently waiting for his starter to decide, the yellow mouse nodded and climbed onto Ash's shoulder. His body tensed slightly, but he remained composed as ever.
Prof. Oak watched proudly from the side, "You've gotten better."
"Practice makes perfect," Ash quoted his mentor's favorite line, causing him to chuckle.
"Yes, but young whippersnappers like yourself tend to rush into things, foolishly heedless of the advice given to you by those more experienced," he said, a nigh-unnoticeable teasing tone in his voice.
"And old men like yourself tend to be reactionary fence-sitters who complain about young whippersnappers, preaching about their outdated ways. All bark and no bite. We can simply agree that each have their own faults and leave it at that," Ash responded calmly.
The Professor's lips twitched upward, "Fair enough." Neither of them had been serious though. Well, not about each other. His mentor was a flexible, adaptable man who had the will and wisdom to readily change his previous beliefs in light of new information contradicting them. Meanwhile, Ash himself was a collected, perceptive and circumspect ten year-old, far more than most ten year-olds. Perhaps they both did it to remind each other not to adopt the less healthy habits of those their age.
The son of Delia Ketchum could freely admit that he was close to his teacher, almost like the father he had never had. The old man had taught him many things beyond just the scope of Pokemon training and had been a vital element of his life ever since he had taken him under his wing.
Ash could almost say the same thing about his grandson, Gary Oak, who the Professor had also educated with the permission of his peer's mother. However, from early on they had all noticed his interest in Pokemon research, preferring to watch his grandfather's experiments to watching Pokemon battles on TV. Ash believed the only reason he had chosen to start as a Trainer was due to their friendly rivalry, which had served as a motivator during their studies. But while Gary beat him in pure academics, he definitively triumphed over his friend in tactics and sheer cunning. Though neither of them was without the other qualities.
But all that had changed eight months ago, when she had died. He dispelled the bad thoughts from his head like earlier that morning. It hadn't been his fault, everybody said. Everybody but Gary... and himself.
Still, Ash often wondered if one of the reasons for Prof. Oak tutoring him was out of desire for some form of a legacy. While a Pokemon researcher first and foremost, he had also been an exceptionally powerful battler. He didn't regret becoming a professor, but he wouldn't be surprised if a small part of him longed to leave something behind as a testament to his years as a Trainer.
Gary Oak would become his legacy to Pokemon research and Ash Ketchum his legacy to Pokemon training. The raven-haired boy wouldn't resent him for it. Humanity was often obsessed with the concept of eternity and outliving their natural limits.
He noticed Pikachu switch his gaze between, rather bewildered by their exchange. The sight eased his nerves somewhat, glad that they were slowly getting more comfortable with each other.
"Ash, I have something for you, Wait here, please." Prof. Oak walked out of the main lab before entering one of the adjacent rooms. Less than a minute later, he came out with something big in his hands. When he came closer, Ash realized that the object was a large, military-style rucksack, with multiple pockets. It was a little worn, a few scratches here and there, but undoubtedly functional.
"I want you to have this. It has plenty of space and plenty of pockets. It'll serve you well, certainly better than any backpack you might have," the old man said while presenting him with the item.
The Trainer took it to examine it closer and saw that Prof. Oak was right. In terms of usability, it was definitively better than any backpack he had, but it obviously belonged, or had belonged to someone else. When he lifted his eyes up to his mentor to ask that, he was bemused and a bit alarmed to see a sad, nostalgic smile on his face and his eyes glassy. It was then that realization hit him like truck, guilt and sorrow following soon afterwards.
"It was her's, wasn't it?" Though phrased like a question, it was more a statement.
"She'd have wanted you to have it. I tried giving it to Gary, but it was still too early for him," the Professor said, slight blues seeping into his voice. A part of Ash wanted to deny it, but he stayed quiet instead. "Take it, Ash. I believe it can help you in more ways than one."
The boy was silent for a few moments, staring blankly at the item that brought up his most unpleasant memories, before nodding, "Mom's gonna be waiting downstairs with my old bag and all my stuff already packed in it."
"Delia is an intelligent woman, she'll surely understand. It's best you be prepared as well as possible."
That, Ash could agree on. His mother was the most understanding person he knew. She knew when to be hard on him, when to be compassionate, and she always seemed to know the right thing to say. Yes, his mom would understand.
When the company of three went outside, they were greeted by a cheering crowd of people. On the front of it was Ash's mother herself, holding a rucksack with tears in her eyes and a sad but proud smile on her face. Just as they reached the end of the stairs, the boy was promptly engulfed in a motherly hug, causing Pikachu to jump off his shoulder.
"Oh, Ash! My baby boy, I'm so proud of you. You're finally going on your journey and starting your Pokemon training. But I'm gonna miss you so much!" she said and began sobbing into his hair.
Despite the embarrassment at his mom's public display of affection, he was quick to hug her back, knowing that she'd be lonely while he's gone. There was at least Mimey to keep her company, a Mr. Mime they found hiding near their house, who took an instant liking to Delia and began helping her with the house work. It had been a bit rough at the start, with him appearing not long after that day, but fortunately, it had all worked out in the end.
"Pikachu."
Both of them looked down at the electric mouse, who was looking up at them curiously. Delia almost instantly had stars in her eyes as she bent down to pick Pikachu up and hugged him close "Oh, aren't you the cutest little thing?! Is this your starter Pokemon, dear?"
For a moment, Ash's heart stopped, afraid that the mistrustful, zap-happy Pokemon would happily zap his mother in a fit of mistrustful anger. Surprisingly, he didn't. He wasn't entirely happy either as Pikachu was obviously somewhat perturbed, though he accepted her petting without complaint. Maybe he was trying to make a positive impression on his Trainer, however unlikely.
She seemed to perk up when looking at him again, her eyes trained on his new bag, "Cool backpack, son. Very spacious. Definitely a lot bigger than this old thing."
Professor Oak smirked knowingly at him and he gave a small smile back. Yep, his mom was the best, "Yeah, we figured you'd like it. Mind helping me transfer the stuff from the old thing?"
Holding Pikachu in the crook of her right arm, she bent forward slightly to pinch his cheek, "Anything for my baby boy."
This time he blushed when the rest of the party snickered, including his starter. Composing himself, they began putting the essentials from his old rucksack into his new one, his mom explaining how to use them all the while, needlessly though. He had made sure to be as prepared as possible before departing, but Ash knew she did it out of motherly care and worry, so he just nodded along without commenting.
He didn't expect to find an item already inside it, in one of the bigger side pockets. It was a small book. After reading the title, he realized it was a manual on berries.
"This is a book on berries, what effect on Pokemon they have, which types of Pokemon prefer certain berries and so on. My wife always said that getting to a Pokemon's heart is no different than getting to a man's." his mentor said, much to the amusement of the women present. "I believe it will be quite helpful in 'sweetening the deal', so to speak, with Pokemon more reluctant to join you."
Not surprising, as Pokemon were all about survival. They led much simpler lives than humans, with food being their equivalent of money. If a newly caught Pokemon knew it would have a steady supply of nourishment by staying with the Trainer, it would be much more accepting of becoming the Trainer's charge. He stuffed the book back into the same side pocket before heaving the bag onto his back. Taking the cue, Pikachu wiggled out his mother's arms and climbed onto his shoulder.
As soon as he set his eyes on the road, the crowd parted like the Red Sea from the well-known Hoenn legend, which made him smirk internally in amusement. He looked to his mother, who was once again on the verge of crying. It hurt him deeply to see her like this, but he needed to do this. It was the only way to get rid off all that's been troubling him for over half a year.
She managed to control herself enough to speak, "Be careful out there. Call me when you get to Viridian City. I know they have video phones there, so don't even think on skipping out on that. Do you understand me?"
He nodded firmly before gracing her with a genuine smile, which he was aware were much rarer for him lately, "Bye, mom."
She couldn't suppress a sob and he wanted oh so much to comfort her, but he knew, after all that had happened on that day, that if he tried to she wouldn't let him go, no matter how much they both knew he needed this. Walking on as she looked at the ground with her hand covering her mouth and tears running down her face made his heart feel like it was being rent to pieces.
On this usual day of joy and celebration, he felt like the biggest shit in the world.
"He's too young, way too young. T-Too vulnerable. I shouldn't have let him go! I-" Delia Ketchum stopped her worried rant when Samuel Oak put a hand on her shoulder, causing her distressed gaze to turn towards him.
He fought off the urge to sigh; this wasn't going as well as he had thought, "It's the best way, Delia. Leave it be."
"I think I have a right to question this course of action," she replied bitterly, an offended scowl marring her beautiful features. "He is my son!"
"Then why didn't you force him to wait another year or two before sending him off?" he asked firmly, to which she responded by looking away in shame. This time, he did sigh while sitting down on the couch in the Ketcham's living room, "It's because we both know he needs this. A mentor's words of wisdom and a mother's words of comfort can only do so much. If the boy is to be healed as much as possible from previous experiences, new experiences that could remedy them is the best, if not only solution."
The compromise was that it could also make it worse and neither of them would be physically there to help him. He didn't feel useless, but he sure as hell wasn't hunky dory with the circumstances that were forced upon them. No matter how comfortable and snug a sanctuary Pallet Town was, it would only hinder the raven-haired Trainer. Ash had to step out of his and his mother's shadow if he was to get anywhere with anything.
"And if it all goes off the deep end?" she asked quietly, so much he almost didn't hear her.
"It can go either way, but he's already on the path of recovery and only this journey might provide the necessary push to finish it. You're his mother, have faith in him."
That seemed to be the wrong thing to say as she scowled even deeper than before, "I have all the faith in the world in him!" Delia seethed for a few moments before calming down suddenly, sadness overtaking her expression, "I just don't have any faith in the world."
For the sake of both Ketchums', Prof. Oak decided not to express his agreement.
So, this is the revised first chapter of Precedence Set. You like it? As you can see, multiple changes have been made, hopefully good ones. Watch out for the rest of 'em!