AN: Hey guys, its been a while…. Actually its more been like 6 months. I'm so so so so so sorry that you guys have waited this long. I know most of you are probably looking forward to an update to legend. I'm sorry, that fic… I don't quite know what to do with it really… It had no real… momentum.

But on the other hand, I have something new here. Spilled Ink. It's a take on the idea of, what if Ash Ketchum wasn't amazing? What if he didn't have his amazing group of friends? If he was just like everyone else(Well in this case, started off worse)? Not all this Arceus' chosen and all that. Would he still be able to succeed? Of course, it'll be realistic, and hopefully, so much more flowing and moving than legend was.

So… again, I'm sorry for the wait, but now that its summer. I'm back. And I hope you guys like what I'm churning out.

The Catalyst

Tap. Tap.

Tap.

A black haired teen groaned as he slammed a pillow over his head, muffling the noise with said piece of fabric.

Tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

"What!?" A rather annoyed black haired trainer screamed as he jumped out of bed and wrenched open the door.

A Post-Man smiled amiably as he held a package aloft to the irate trainer. "A Package for you Sir."

The package was a rather small affair. Covered in dark black wrapping paper and the sides were taped shut with black duct tape. It was like the sender had made a extraordinary effort to prevent light from reaching the contents of said box. It was also, probably the reason why the box had been delivered at the dead of night, on the night of the new moon.

Ash Satoshi Ketchum groaned and took the delicate box out of the man's hand and irritably chucked it to the corner of his small hotel room. It made a dull clunking sound as it bounced off the dresser and onto the floor.

"Thank you for using Murkrow delivery services. Have a nice morning." The postman said brightly. The door was slammed shut in his face.

"Arcues damned Postman…" Ash groaned as he threw himself into the welcoming embrace of his hotel queen sized bed.

There laid on the bed, was what most Pokémon professors would call, a fledgling trainer for all intents and purposes. He was rather ordinary among the leagues of Pokémon trainers . He, like most trainers had been handed his starter, a Pikachu, by his resident Pokémon professor. Beaten the respective eight gyms and participated in the tournament.

Lighting streaked across the sky.

"You lose. Again." Paul said finally, standing next to his towering Torterra.

He smiled at his so called "rival" and picked up Pikachu with his left hand. The poor yellow mouse had been flattened under a wood hammer within moments of the beginning of the battle.

"Good Job Paul. You won. For the last time." Ash said after a pause. He knew it was true. This was likely the last time he would ever talk to his rival again.

"No one else will ever be worthy enough to be my Rival."

The words were spoken towards the retreating back of a young trainer, Pikachu collapsed forlornly in his hands. The trainer froze, foot about to step into the lift that would carry him once and for all out of the stadium.

The trainer smiled, "You know that isn't true Paul. You'll face someone better, stronger, more driven then me someday. In fact… it won't be hard to find someone better than me."

His back was turned so he couldn't see the expression on his former rival's face. No doubt it would be doubtful, damning….

"Even if I have to wait until the end of my days, I want to battle you once again. Ash."

It was the first time he had heard Paul say his name without any hint of scorn or contempt coloring the tone.

He smiled at that. And left.

Even before that...

"Fight Ashy-boy! Get up and face me like a trainer!" His oldest rival Gary Oak yelled as he stood in front of him.

A bitter smile creased his sleeping face.

"Where's that passion?! Where's the kid who said to me, 'I'm gonna be a Pokemon Master?!' Cause you sure as hell aren't him!"

Gary finished his lecture with a snarl to his voice.

"Ash. Of all the people in this tournament. I wanted to face you the most. When the real Ash is back, come find me."

Ash sighed and looked at his collapsed team of Pokemon. His heart throbbed.

"Sorry Gary, that kid won't be back for a real while..."

Gary nodded and turned his back. "But he'll be back. Right?"

His voice was full of a mixed hope.

Then the crowds before him, booing him off the stadium with gusto. His sleeping body sagged.

Of course he had lost. He wouldn't be ordinary if he had won now would he? Then he had gone on to repeat the same pattern all through Johto, then Hoenn. Along with oddly, insisting on starting with new Pokémon each region except for his Pikachu. Some trainers might have called this gutsy, or daring, but in his scenario, it was rather foolish. His companions were non-existent and his Pokemon were similarly unimpressive.

Eevee, Pikachu, Feebas, and a random egg he had been tossed by a trainer who didn't want to be bothered with it.

He had won some praise for catching a Feebas, who were famously hard to spot in the murky river waters, and had a tendency to dwell around a particular food source for days. It was just his luck that he happened to drop a Poffin in that one particular patch of river.

Plop.

Snap.

Tug.

Toss.

"I Caught a Feebas!"

It had been as simple as that.

Ash Ketchum was all in all a mediocre trainer or rather, a unpassionate trainer.

Until he accidentally received a package, a package that wasn't meant for him, but rather, meant for someone in a neighboring hotel room, who was an avid collector of Eevees and their respective evolutions. The package would be what was known in Chemistry, as the Catalyst. It was the cause of what many trainers called, "Passion" a desire to see one's Pokémon become strong. It was the forerunner of what many heralded as success.

Yes. This is the tale of how a mediocre trainer, became a champion and in the process, saved the world. But we'll get there later.

0o-o0

So, REVIEW! And tell me what you think.