I was let out of my ball for what felt like the hundredth time. I would not go back in it, I vowed.
I would take this no more.
There was a black-haired boy standing in front of me. To me, he looked no different from all the other despicable humans I had seen.
Except he had two lightning-shaped birthmarks on his cheeks...
But I dismissed that thought as unimportant.
Why was I let out again?
It would be no different from the other times young trainers had tried to get me to fight for them.
Why did he bother?
What made this boy different?
I blinked. Happy to be out of that confining space, I stated, "Pikachu."
Professor Oak spoke, "His name is Pikachu."
The Pokémon trainer complimented me, "Oh, it's so cute, it's the best of all."
Dryly, the older man replied, "You'll see."
The boy reached out for me and hugged me close to his chest very enthusiastically. "Oh, hi, Pikachu!"
"Pika..." Needless to say, this didn't make me happy, and I made the youth easily aware of that with a low-powered Thundershock.
He started stuttering, making a "Yee-aaahhh," sound.
As I continued zapping him, Professor Oak explained, "It's also known as an electric mouse. It's usually shy, but sometimes has an electrifying personality."
I stopped, and, smoke fumes coming off of him, Ash weakly said in agreement, "I know what you mean."
"Shocking, isn't it?" The Pokémon Professor held out six red and white balls, along with a red flat computer-type object. "Now take these: your Pokédex and Pokéballs."
Angry at being disturbed, as well as being held by this detestable being, I let loose another lightning bolt.
"T-t-ha-an-kk Yoo-oouuu," Ash stuttered his gratitude during the electric blast I so graciously generated just for him and the Professor.
"You're weelll-coome," Oak stammered out as well.
We went outside.
I was still steaming over being constantly messed with by these creatures.
Leave.
Me.
Alone.
On the walk, a small group of people stood, a few playing instruments and a few holding a sign that in red letters encouraged, "Go Ash Go."
"Mom!" Ash exclaimed, surprised...And still charred from my earlier show of disapproval.
"Ash. I'm so proud of you." The boy's mother spoke as he put me down on the ground.
At last! A little bit of freedom...
"You're finally going to fulfill your dream and start your Pokémon training. But I—" She broke off, covering her motherly face with a green backpack. "—I'm going to miss you so much. Oh, my little boy!"
"Pikachu?" I kind of liked that woman, and stepped forward, with a, surprisingly enough, cheerful expression on my face.
The lady unzipped the bag, pulling out its contents and placing it in her son's arms as she spoke, "I packed your sneakers and jeans, nice clean shirts and underwear, and your favorite snacks, and some hot chocolate—in case you want something hot——but be careful not to burn yourself——and a pair of rubber gloves to do your laundry, and a new clothes line to hang it out to dry—" All this was said quickly and with hardly a breath.
She made a strange noise as Ash snatched the bag and whined, "Mo-om, you're embarrassing me...In front of all these people...Don't you know I'm a big kid now? Pokémon trainers can take care of themselves."
Right, I thought to myself sarcastically.
His mother answered back, sounding rejected, "I understand...Hm?" She looked down at me. I smiled just a little bit wider at the nice lady. "That's your Pokémon?"
She's talking about me!
Pikachu," I said, as if that explained it all.
"Yep." Ash sounded proud, something that almost hit a chord in me.
Almost.
"—That's my Pokémon!"
Stupid human! "Pi!" I turned my head away. Why couldn't I just go back to the lab?
Ash ignored my negative attitude, "With Pikachu at my side, I'll get all the Pokémon in the world!"
"But I thought all Pokémon stayed inside their Pokéballs. Why doesn't this one?"
No! Not that place!
"Unh," the dumb boy stuttered. "Oh, yeah. Right." Ash turned with the ball in his hand and ordered, "Pikachu, get in the ball, now."
He threw it at me.
"Ka!" I hit it right back with my tail.
This continued:
He threw it, "Oh."
"Chu."
"Unh?"
"Pi."
"Hauh?"
"Ka."
"Uh-ah?"
"Chu."
"Dih."
"Pi."
"Duh."
"Ka."
"Unh."
"Chu."
Ash's mother smiled cheerfully, and she squeezed her eyes shut in happiness, "Oh! You're playing catch! You're friends already!"
Ash wasn't as confident, "Uh, sure." He picked me up and held me up to his face. "Pikachu and I are real pals. Right?" He looked to me as if for an answer.
"But," she said. I glanced at Ash who, in return, looked at me. "It's a little weird."
Weird?
"Uh-oh," he whispered softly. "Weird?"
GRRRRRR! I was angry now.
"Unnnnhhh-ooohhh," Ash saw the look on my face.
"Pii—KAAAA!"
I showed them who was boss.
Various members of the crowd gave weak screams as I bombarded them with Pika Power.
Professor Oak was safely out of the electricity's reach, hiding behind several bricks...as he had learned to be very cautious around me. "Those rubber gloves your mom packed will come in handy."
"Whhhyyy?" Ash managed to inquire through the electric jolt he was receiving.
"Rubber blocks electricity," Oak informed him.
"Hoooo-rraaaayyy," the boy managed, half-heartedly.
"Waaaahh," came Ash's mom, and Ash was "Dyah"ing. I stopped the attack, figuring they'd learned their lesson.
Everyone remained standing for a fraction of a second, but then they all fell sharply to the ground, with the exception of Ash, Oak, and, of course, me.
Stars in her eyes and lying on her back, Ash's mother managed, "Don't forget to change your underwear. Every. Single. Day."
"Ooo-ka-ay."
I closed my eyes, content. "Pika-chu."
