Disclaimer: I will never own Pokémon. Not in a thousand years. I probably wouldn't live that long.
Ash had reached Rubidium before he'd known it. There weren't really many landmarks to mark how far he'd gone, anyway. It was mostly just tall grass and very tall grass.
And don't forget the trees… wait. Why am I thinking this…?
And trees, of course. Very dense trees that you couldn't walk through, for some unspecified reason.
Rubidium was another example of a generic city. It had a small PokéMart, a large Pokémon Center, and an even larger Pokémon gym. In some strange fashion, the organizers of the Pokémon League had decided that this gym was to be the weakest gym of all the official gyms; that is to say, gyms that actually were authorized to give out badges. The buildings here were mostly high-rise, and interestingly, most of them looked like they were merely ornamental.
Ash noticed that when he first walked up to one. The façade just looked too perfect to be real; the windows were made of a glass that could hardly be said to be see-through, and, most inexplicably, most of them lacked doors.
These architects sure are weird, he thought, shaking his head.
The Pokémon Centre was an unfamiliar sight. Whoever had ordained that Pokémon laboratories were limited to one or two cities had also somehow made sure that the towns either had a Pokémon laboratory or a gym and a Pokémon Centre. Of course he knew that there wasn't much of a point having a gym, a Pokémon Centre and a Pokémon laboratory in the same city. Heck, the last time that'd happened, they'd burnt it down.
The Pokémon laboratory in Cinnabar, that is. Why am I clarifying my thoughts to no one in particular?
He stepped on the welcome mat, pursing his lips as he surveyed the giant Pokéball dome which made up the roof of the PokéCentre. The sliding doors silently slid open, a cautious Ash waiting till the doors were fully open before daring to step through.
In the era of backpack trainers, PokéCentres had developed to provide lodging for trainers. Of course, they weren't expected to supply food as well, but the PokéMart was always ready to solve that problem. This PokéCentre was relatively empty; most successful trainers rarely revisited past cities. Directly in front of him was a counter with a small bell shaped like a Pokéball. Ringing it, he'd hardly waited three seconds before a red-haired woman popped up out of nowhere, frightening him and his Ditto out of their wits.
"Welcome to the Rubidium Pokémon Centre! How may I help you?"
Ditto shook itself up to turn its colour back to pink, then sat on the counter docilely.
"Err… could you just heal my Ditto here, please?"
The nurse (her nametag read Joy) smiled in a way that seemed sincere and plastered-on at the same time.
"Of course. Please return your Ditto to its Pokéball and I'll heal him in a jiffy."
Taken aback, he looked at Ditto, then looked back at Nurse Joy.
"My Ditto… he doesn't have a Pokéball."
The nurse's smile was still plastered on her face.
"Then I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. Goodbye!"
Ash stood there, wordless for a second, then blurted out a single "But-!"
"Yes, we do have facilities for taking care of Pokémon outside their Pokéballs, but it's only for severely wounded, abandoned, or overly dramatic Pokémon. Since your Ditto isn't any of the three, I'm afraid we don't have the means to treat him. Bye now!"
Ash would've sweatdropped again, but he didn't. For reasons why, please revisit chapter five. Since Ditto was technically a Japanese character (not like some totally original character I did; har har har), it did sweatdrop. A big pink drop of some indiscernible liquid dripped to the ground, only to be reabsorbed into Ditto. Ad nauseam.
He turned and plonked himself down on one of the cushy loveseats that seemed to have been placed there for that exact purpose. There were three of those, all lined up nicely against a wall. Lined up not so nicely against the same wall were a dustbin and a cactus. It was several seconds before he realized which side the cactus was on.
Why does the author do this to me…?
Cursing, he picked the spines out of his black-and-white Official Pokémon League jacket, which had been conveniently left out of any description of Ash so far, for the express purpose of being able to be turned into a really cool trenchcoat if the need arose… but it's too late now. Anyway the OPL brand was a really popular one in the region, so it wasn't all bad.
He wasn't sure what he'd do now. The assumed truth that had spread around was that once a trainer entered a town, he healed his Pokémon at the PokéCentre, looked around for interesting side quests, completed the interesting side quests (if any) and defeated the Gym leader (again, if any); in that order.
Since he couldn't heal his Pokémon, he was pretty much buggered on that front. He turned to look at Ditto, and realized that it had already fallen asleep on the cushy surface of the loveseat. Watching it, he wondered why it would actually need healing anyway. Any wounds it sustained could instantly be covered up; it was a transforming Pokémon, after all.
The only thing it needs is rest.
He was close to falling asleep himself when a shadow loomed over them.
It was kind of surprising that a shadow could loom over him, since the only lights were against the walls so it'd be highly improbable that a shadow might actually fall on them; but of course no one cared. Boo.
The shadow belonged to a girl; a really tall girl. Or maybe it was because Ash was sitting down because she seemed really tall. Even though her face was in the shadow she was wearing sunglasses. Which was remarkable, firstly because he could see the dark glasses, even though her face was entirely in shadow; and secondly because she could actually see.
Her hair was purple and cut to her shoulders. Ash stared, his mind in turmoil.
Why can't I be cool and special like that…!
She was wearing an outfit that was entirely black, except for a purple Pokébelt from which hung three Pokéballs; two of them were blue and red, with a lightning bolt on them, while the last was a normal, red-and-white one.
She's not a new trainer, then.
She sat down on the same couch, poking his Ditto into consciousness. He would've protested, but the shock of having an utter stranger play with your Pokémon can be mind-numbing.
Her mouth turned up at the sides as it woke, noticed her, and turned into a potato; almost as though she was trying not to laugh. She stood up, opening her mouth for the first time.
"That was amusing…"
And then she was gone. Curling up again, Ditto went back to sleep. Ash did the same.
A few minutes later Pidgeotto girl walked in. But she was alright, of course. She still had her Ultra ball.
A/N: And so another chapter is up! In case you haven't realized, these updates are getting later and later each day… so the next time I submit it might be tomorrow! Err… I mean the tomorrow after the tomorrow. Yeah; that one.