So I'm back again with the story that the majority of poll voters requested. This will be a gen-fic, meaning that there will be no romance. Sorry, but it doesn't fit the plot, and I like writing for things other than AAML fics once in a while. I will give a warning that there will be a major character death in the future (not going to say when or who, so don't ask), so if that kind of stuff is going to shake you to your core and make you curl up in a corner crying, don't read this fic. Otherwise, enjoy!
Featured story for this chapter: Step Up by suzukeii
Description: When Leaf Green is accepted on scholarship to the prestigious Whittaker Academy of Dance, she expects all work and no play: not drama, not dishwashing, and definitely not a ridiculously attractive player intent on making her his next conquest. But with the possibility of the school shutting down, she'll need to step up...or step out.
Thoughts: I wanted to start by recommending a good story that isn't AAML and targets a slightly different audience than most of my recommendations, so here you go.
Ash Ketchum pulled the handle on the side of his La-Z-Boy, jerking it slightly as it stuck a little. The chair popped back into its "lazy" position, the leg rest springing up in an instant. The young Trainer pulled his popcorn bowl a little closer, digging his hand into the buttery delight as his favorite movie rolled the opening credits.
He watched with the eagerness of a child as Zubatman soared through the streets of Lordtham City, his masked face scanning the alleyways for trouble. All of a sudden, he dropped like a black lightning bolt descending from the sky. He collided feet-first with a man who had been chasing a desperate woman toward a dead-end. Ash cheered as he saw, for the thousandth time, the dark hero beat the would-be rapist's head in with his rock-solid fists.
Just as the title of the movie flashed up on the screen, the footage was cut. Ash's smile quickly died as confusion flooded his mind. A moment later, the T.V. lit up once more, this time pushing forward the image of a well-dressed man with BREAKING NEWS flying every which way around him.
Ash let out a loud, angry sigh, throwing his arms up in the air. From his bed in the corner of the room, Pikachu lifted its head, giving its master a confused but tired glance.
"Honestly," Ash muttered, "I get so freaking sick of these stupid newscasters always interrupting everything! Why can't they just use the news channels for all their stupid 'breaking news'?"
Submitting to his fate, Ash gave most of his attention to the news, praying to Arceus that it would end before Zubatman and the Joker faced off for the first time.
"This just in from the World Health Organization," the caster began. "The recent outbreak of Pestis Petechialis has been declared a world epidemic. This virus is highly contagious, and is almost always fatal except when medical help is available in the early stages. The outbreak is said to be especially dense in the Kanto and Johto regions, although it now stretches as far as Alola."
The news coverage now had Ash's full attention. Normally, any breaking news that the local stations could conjure up was about a homicide or a storm. This time, however, it was about something Ash actually cared about.
"The virus can only affect Pokemon, so all humans are safe. If you spot any of the following symptoms on any of your Pokemon or on a wild Pokemon, you are urged to either rush to the nearest Pokemon Center or call the police: unusual red spotting, especially around the neck and chest, a persistent, hacking cough, extreme lethargy, fever, discharge from the eyes, and reduced power."
Ash found himself checking Pikachu from a distance, sweat beading on his brow as he attempted to confirm his best friend's good health. Fortunately, he didn't spot any noticeable symptoms, although he'd give the Electric Pokemon a closer look later.
"Due to the virus, the Silver Conference has been postponed until further notice," the man concluded. "We extend our sympathy to all Pokemon and Trainers affected by this horrific illness. We will now return you to your regularly scheduled programming."
The T.V. flashed back to the movie. Almost as soon as it did, Ash felt his phone vibrate beside him. Grabbing it, he saw the screen light up with a text from May. His eyes scanned over it quickly as he unlocked his phone. Apparently, according to May, who had recently taken over her father's Gym for a short while, the Pokemon League was asking Gym Leaders to consider closing their Gyms until after the epidemic was over.
Ash didn't realize until after talking to May just how bad this outbreak was. Normally, the young Trainer avoided the news, sick of hearing the same old crap about politics and crime. He knew it wasn't all that responsible, but he didn't really care. After all, he wasn't in the middle of journeying, so why should he care?
Of course, this spotted plague was giving him a perfect reason to do so. As he and May discussed the virus and its implications, he grew more and more anxious. What if it hit his house? His Pokemon? What about his mom's Mr. Mime? At least May's Pokemon were healthy, so far of course.
Before saying goodbye, Ash warned May to watch out for the virus among her challengers' Pokemon, for her sake. After he finished texting her, he pushed his chair back into its "dormant" position and quietly walked over to Pikachu, trying not to wake the tired Pokemon.
As gently as he could, he parted his partner's fur, searching for any little red spots that might indicate disease. Pikachu was his greatest Pokemon and friend, and to have him fall terribly ill would be devastating.
Fortunately, everything checked a second time. Sighing with relief, Ash made a mental note to check all of his Pokemon in the morning.
He watched Pikachu sleep for a while, smiling at the tiny creature's peacefulness. It had spent an entire day at a local daycare, helping the teachers there educate young children on the proper handling of Pokemon. It was no wonder to Ash why his little buddy was tired.
Feeling sleepy himself, Ash stripped himself of everything but his boxers, hit the lights off, and crawled into bed. As it was a scorcher of a night, he opted not to use any blankets and instead just lay on the sheets. He found himself staring at his ceiling fan, the twirl of its blades lulling him to sleep.
"Ash! Ash Ketchum, wake up!"
Ash's eyes flew open as his mother yelled up the stairs. For a fleeting moment, he felt as if he were nine years old again, being told to get up so he wouldn't be late for school.
However, any annoyance he may have felt at being abruptly woken dissipated as he heard Delia add that breakfast was ready. Before his mind could even notice - or process - the smell of pancakes and maple syrup drifting up the stairs, he had thrown on his slippers and was downstairs at the table. Pikachu greeted him with a quirky "pika pi!" from his own seat at the table.
Delia set a nice, warm, fluffy stack of pancakes down on the table. Ash and Pikachu quickly dug in, dragging pancake after pancake onto their plates. Ash smothered his with so much maple syrup that it started leaking off the sides of his plate.
"Oh Ash," his mother scolded. "Can't you for once keep yourself clean?"
He gave his mom a classic "Are you kidding me?" look. "Mom, you can't have pancakes unless you dump half a bottle of syrup onto them. Otherwise, they're dry!"
She rolled her eyes. "Just clean up what you spilled on the table when you're done, okay? If it dries, it'll make a huge sticky mess."
He nodded, unable to speak as he shoved two forkfuls of brown fluff into his mouth. Arceus, his mother's pancakes were so good.
Pikachu seemed to think so, too, because it immediately set to angrily chirping in Delia's face once the pile of pancakes had been reduced to none. It waved its arms at the empty but crumb-covered plate, and then at the stove.
The elder Ketchum laughed, almost a tad nervously. "I'm sorry Pikachu, but what I made is all I can make! I'm out of eggs."
As Pikachu grew cross and folded its arms, Ash gave his mom an incredulous look. "You're out of eggs? How? You just bought like, three dozen yesterday!"
"It takes a lot of eggs to make pancakes. Besides, I need the six eggs I have left for the egg salad I want to make."
Ash narrowed his eyes. "So then you do have eggs."
"Laura is expecting me to bring egg salad to the picnic."
"Just buy some from the store."
"She's expecting my recipe."
"Tell her you ran out of time."
"I'm not going to lie, Ash."
He set his fork down on his plate rather heavily. "Well, I need more pancakes! And Pikachu does, too!"
"Pika!" the little mouse agreed.
Delia sighed, but was interrupted by the ding of the door bell before she could say anything to further the argument. Her eyes lit up with excessive excitement, clearly overjoyed that she now had a reason to walk away from her son's appetite.
Ash watched from the table as his mother rushed to the front door. He couldn't see who it was, but could hear the conversation from where he was.
"Oh, hello!" Delia said, all of the irritation in her voice gone. "It's so nice to see you again. How was your trip to Alola?"
It must be Professor Oak, Ash realized.
"Terrible, if I'm being quite honest," the guest admitted. "Do you mind if I come in?"
"Not at all! We were just finishing breakfast."
A couple of moments later, Samuel Oak was standing in the entrance to the kitchen. Pikachu cried with joy as it saw its old friend, scurrying across the floor to nuzzle against his leg. Chuckling, the old man bent down and patted the Pokémon on the head.
"Hi, professor," Ash greeted.
After acknowledging the young Trainer, Professor Oak took a seat at the table. Delia sat across from him.
"Well," he began, "It was an adventure, that was for sure."
"What happened?" Ash inquired.
"My vacation quickly devolved into another research project," the professor explained, somewhat bitterly. "I'd only been in the region for two days when Professor Kukui found me, and then proceeded to invite me to join him on a work expedition. Him being such a good friend and close associate of mine, I couldn't just say no. And so, off we went.
"The purpose of the work was to find and isolate what few Alolan Pokémon have so far been affected by this terrible disease that's spreading around. It was interesting, of course, but also terribly sad. Those poor Pokémon."
He paused for a moment, suddenly looking somber. After a bit of silence, he continued. "We found enough specimens for a good group, so we brought them back to Kukui's lab for study. Unfortunately, negligence on behalf of one of Professor Kukui's assistants caused a malfunction in the caging system, and several of the Pokémon got loose. We managed to secure the site fast enough to prevent any of them from breaking out into the world, but almost all of the starter Pokémon were infected. And so, now dozens of Alolan Trainer hopefuls are stuck without starters."
"That's terrible!" Delia exclaimed. "Are you going to send them some starters? I'm sure we have plenty to spare, especially because I've heard that we aren't turning out as many new Trainers here as we used to."
Professor Oak nodded slowly. "While that is true, the Pokémon League rules state that Trainers receiving their starter Pokémon in Alola may only select from Litten, Popplio, or Rowlett. No substitutions allowed, unlike here in Kanto."
Ash slammed his fist down on the table. "Well, that's just stupid!" he burst out. "They should make an exception, what with everything that's going on!" He couldn't imagine being ten again, the night before getting his license, only to find out that he'd have to wait for more starters to arrive.
The professor sighed. "Very true, Ash. Anyways, Professor Kukui let me take one of the ill starters home with me. He asked me to log the progress of the disease, all the way from infection to... the end, whatever that may be."
Ignoring the implications of the end of that statement, Ash asked, "So then you have it here, at the lab?" There was a hint of excitement in his voice.
He nodded. "Yes. You can come see it, Ash, if you'd like. I only ask that you leave Pikachu here."
"Pikaaa..."
Ash smiled down at his friend. "Sorry, buddy, but it's for your own good. Maybe Mom will let you have some of her egg salad."
The Electric Pokémon made a face, as if to say, "Really?"
He laughed. "Yeah, who am I kidding. You've always hated that stuff. Maybe some ketchup and ham instead."
"Pika!"
And so, Ash and Oak set off for the lab, leaving Delia behind to figure out how she was going to explain to a very excited Pikachu that there was no ham available.
As they arrived at the lab, Professor Oak warned Ash to keep his hands off of everything and to keep back, since it was currently unknown if the disease could be passed on by humans.
The sick Pokémon, a Popplio, was being kept in a sealed chamber in the back of the lab. Two individuals in full protection suits were currently in with it, one scribbling notes in a journal as another examined the Sea Lion Pokémon.
As soon as Ash saw it, a lump formed in his throat. The poor thing looked horrible. It was perfectly still on the examining table, and not just because it was being held down by one of the assistants. Its coloring was horrible, and it was extremely underweight. If a big sign on the window hadn't told him so, Ash would have scarcely recognized it as a Popplio.
"Day 14," the professor reported softly beside him. "The disease is progressing especially quickly in this one. Normally, this advanced state is not reached until thirty or even forty days into the illness's progression. My theory is that the travel unintentionally stressed it, even though I did everything possible to make it comfortable."
Ash watched as the examiner slowly lifted one of the Water Pokémon's flippers. He felt bile rise in his throat as he saw the bulging red spots on the underside of it.
As the flipper was raised, the Popplio suddenly spasmed and cried. The shriek ended in a hacking cough, one that shook its entire body.
The professor shook his head. "Arceus... I wish there was something we could do."
Ash jerked his head to look at him. "There's nothing?"
"Nothing. We can only make it comfortable and give it a cough suppressant, although not even that seems to be working now. There is currently no cure for this late stage. There is one for the early stages, although it is extremely expensive and reserved for 'important' Pokémon."
"Important Pokémon?" Ash cried. "So you're telling me that this" - he gestured toward the Popplio - "could have been prevented, but it wasn't because this one wasn't important enough!?"
The man shook his head. "I know, Ash. But the fact is that there simply aren't enough samples of the cure, and each one costs a lot to make. Around $P500,000, to be exact. To cure every sick Pokémon... that would cost hundreds of millions, if not billions."
"So then what? We just let this sick illness kill everything?"
"Until we find a cheaper cure, we have no choice."
At that moment, Ash, overwhelmed with a sudden fury, slammed his fist against the glass. The whole panel shook, spooking the Popplio. It jumped, and in turn unintentionally scraped its fin against the surface of the table. It screamed in pain as several of the red spots started bleeding.
"Ash!" Professor Oak cried. "What were you thinking?"
He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as guilt washed over him. He took a quick glance at the Popplio, who was thrashing as the assistants tried to tend to its wounds.
He hung his head. "I'm sorry."
The professor, clearly angry now, snapped, "Maybe it's best if you leave now, Ash. I'm sorry to have upset you, but the truth is the truth."
He went to ask if he could stay, but decided against it. "Okay. I really am sorry."
Professor Oak didn't seem to hear him; he was too busy observing the Pokémon.
Dejected, Ash headed out of the lab. Arceus, why couldn't he have kept it together? Now that Popplio was even worse off, and it was his fault.
Stop it, he told himself. You have a right to be mad. After all, this wouldn't have even happened in the first place if the frickin' league would get their stuff together and find a cheap cure. No Pokémon is more important than another.
A mix of guilt, anger, and a little fear swirling within him, Ash headed for the gates of the pastures, eager to see his own Pokémon. At least they were okay. He was sure the professor would have told him if they weren't.
Still, as he put on a happy face and greeted his swarm of Pokémon, he couldn't help but think of that poor Popplio, stuck on that table, spending its last days in pain.
For us, there is no cure.