I've really never seen anything after the original pokemon, so yeah. Don't judge me. I used the American names to make it less confusing for me, too. So there. :3 Chapter one, yay.
"Did you brush your hair this morning?"
He felt the corner of his mouth twitch into a frown. "Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"It looks like-"
"I brushed it!" He cried, grabbing hold of the nearby brush and yanking it through his hair. He jerked when it caught a tangle, knocking the hat off his head, and scowled.
Mrs. Ketchum grinned. "You have terrible hat hair, Ash."
He muttered under his breath, and snapped the cap back on his head. If it'd been up to him, when he'd received a telegram from Professor Oak requesting his immediate assistance, Ash would have found some way to slip through Pallet without being noticed by his mother. But as he crept passed the house, she'd been outside chattering away to Mimie as the pokemon swept the sidewalk.
"I really need to get going, Mom, Profes-"
"He can wait." The woman cut him off. She pulled open the fridge and began to shuffle around inside for something. "It seems like I haven't seen you in months…"
And she hadn't, Ash realized with a thread of guilt. He loved his mother, of course, but there wasn't time to keep backpedaling to Pallet for a visit. That was the reason. Really.
He glanced to the chair at his right, where Pikachu had been ushered to sit on a pile of books. Only its eyes peaked over the tabletop, bored.
Mrs. Ketchum pulled her head out of the fridge, frowning at the cake now in her hands. The middle of it had deflated, one of the corners missing, and, well… it had seen better days. "I was saving this for you, Ash." She stared at the 16 and a half (Lord only knew why half of the last one was missing) candles stuck haphazardly into the green icing.
Pikachu wrinkled its nose. Ash grimaced. "My birthday was over a month ago."
"I know," she said slowly, as if this was dawning on her for the first time. Mrs. Ketchum sat the cake down on the table, Ash and Pikachu watching her closely. She brought a hand to her cheek, lost. "My little boy's… growing up so quickly."
He groaned. "Don't do that, Mom. I still have a while."
"I know!" She perked up suddenly, smiling again. "Mimie and I'll just make you a new cake and then we can have a real birthday party for you! Won't that be lovely, Ash?"
:---:
The lobby was cold. Ash shifted his weight, standing uncomfortably at the reception desk. A woman in a white coat sat at a computer, phone on her ear, occasionally bobbing her head as she scribbled something down on a yellow memo pad. Pikachu sat atop his shoe, ear twitching, impatient.
He raised a hand, hesitantly, "Excuse me, ma'am?"
She let the phone fall to her shoulder a minute, and turned her dull gaze on him. "Let me guess, Mr. Ketchum."
"How did you-"
"You have your mother's nose."
He felt his cheeks get hot. "Ah, yeah, I guess… I'm here to see Professor Oak?" She pointed to an open door across the room. Nodding thanks, Ash followed the direction of her finger. Pikachu huffed, trotting along to his right.
He hadn't been down this hall before, Ash realized. There were no doors along the walls, only a different photograph of a poke'mon every other step. Charmelion, Squirtle, Scyther, Clefable…
The door at the end was slightly ajar. He hesitated, debating whether or not to knock or go on in. He could hear footsteps beyond, clapping across the tile, growing louder. Oak, he decided, and pushed the door open.
The first time, there is always hesitation. An inkling, somewhere, because entering the unknown goes against instinct. Slowly, confidence slithers through the cracks and fills the mind. Slowly. And over time, the lingering doubt of what is expected slips away…
"You're late."
He couldn't move. The greeting that had bubbled to his lips died in his throat. Tense, caught off guard, the confusion found him in its grasp. "Gary." He hadn't meant the name to sound so weak on his tongue, empty, and still with the uncertainty he found curled around it. He frowned. "I thought Professor Oak needed to-"
The man laughed, a smug grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "The old man's away on a trip."
"Should I wait for him to get back?" Ash asked quickly, before realizing his mistake. The sarcastic laugh that ensued made him scowl. And then just as quickly, he pulled the hat from his head and did a mock bow. "What do you need me for, then?"
Gary, still seeming to enjoy himself, leaned against the wall. He folded his arms across his chest, looking Ash over silently, and smirked. "You have terrible hat hair."