Chapter One: A spark is what it takes


"Are you quite sure you are feeling alright?" Professor Oak asked, and it was all Ash could muster to keep himself from snapping at the good professor that yes, he was fine, as he had said about a billion times. He knew that Oak had his best interests in mind, and was grateful that the man found it in himself to be concerned with him at all, but it was starting to get tiring. Ash was not good with mindless repetition.

Especially since he came in after his mother, who was a worrywart of legendary proportions even when nothing happened. Since he'd nearly died this time, she'd every right to be concerned, but Ash did wish that Delia would have deemed it fit to keep some of her concern to himself.

"Yeah," he said instead. He'd had a few coughing fits at first, but he was mostly used to talking now.

It'd been two days since he first woke up, but only now could he be visited by anyone at all. The doctors had to run him through all sorts of tests to make sure he wasn't experiencing any side effects, like a change in his thought process, seizures at the sight of a Porygon (he didn't get it either), puking, etcetera. It'd been a handful.

Thankfully (and, if his instincts were right and going by the doctor's reactions, astonishingly), he seemed to be mostly fine. Not everyone had a good reaction to the technology used in his recovery, they told him; the utilisation of Ditto cells in Pokemon Medicine had already been a tremendous breakthrough in the way injuries were treated, but humans had only just begun experimenting on the use of the same techniques on treating other humans. After the Almia Event a few decades back, there had been far too many restrictions put in human-pokemon hybridization to properly advance the research at normal rates, but the excitement scientists had felt pushed them through nonetheless.

Ash was likely one of maybe a hundred people in the world who could say they'd received treatment by Ditto cell splicing. The 'we don't know how things will go in the future' remained unsaid, but as far as he understood, everything was fine and he'd have absolutely died without it, so there wasn't really much room for him to complain. Still, it was an odd thought, and one that he usually found he would rather not think about for too long.

"Good… Good." Professor Oak let out a sigh of relief. "I was beside myself when they told me you'd fallen into a coma. It 's…"

"Mom told me about it," he cut in, unwilling to let the Professor apologize. It wasn't his fault. "Someone switched the Pokeballs while they prepared the room, right? Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault."

"But it was. Though I was not the one who did it, I am, in the eyes of the Indigo League, responsible for the delivery of starters. That also makes me culpable for any accidents that may occur in their handling."

Ash frowned immediately at that, furrowing his eyebrows as he leaned forward with a look of concern on his youthful face.

"Is everything alright, professor?"

Oak turned to look at him, and Ash was forced to come to terms with how old the professor looked at that moment in time. The man had always been livelier than most when he was growing up, and thus, ironically enough, even the thought of Professor Oak and the words usually associated with old age such as 'weary' being used in the same sentence felt alien to him. But that was what the professor looked right then; his face of sharp features and turns was marked by the wrinkles he'd gained through time, and dark bags surrounded his eyes in a sign of his usual lack of sleep.

Most importantly, though, there was a tired steel to him that Ash had not seen in the man before, nor did he wish to see there again.

"Yes, don't you worry." Oak spoke with a deep sigh. "The League was all too eager to punish the Assistant who switched them instead and clear me of any guilt, despite my wish that they'd not done so. Poor Maria… her mistake was grave, but the fate that awaits her as a pariah is not kind."

Realization struck him instantly. Ash wasn't dumb, despite his sometimes overwhelming amount of energy, and he'd grown up around the Oaks, who all had encouraged logical thought above all else.

"They're using her as a scapegoat," he whispered. "To save your reputation."

"Bingo," Oak promptly answered, a grim smile on his face. He looked a little impressed despite himself, as if they were falling back into their routine. "Golden marks once again, Ash."

He got why the Professor looked so sad now. Ash wouldn't want to see that either, even if Maria had been the one responsible for the mistake. There was just punishment, and then there was exploiting that for one's own interests. The first was fair, the second… he grimaced to himself, letting his shoulders sag as he laid back down on the soft white mattress.

"Man, what a mess," he whispered. "I just wanted a Squirtle."

Oak couldn't suppress his snort at that, much to Ash's amusement. The man tried to recompose himself quickly, but the solemn mood was gone and they were both all the better for it. Neither were suited for it.

"Still, Ash." Oak said after a while. "I truly am sorry. Even if you don't think I'm guilty… that was supposed to be a special day for you."

Ash was a bright child, both in that he could be very sharp when he wanted and in that he was like a boundless field of energy. He was always doing something, playing, fighting, studying, dressing up as a Zubat to spook Gary, you name it. And, because he was young, he was also innocent.

But he wasn't devoid of his darkness. No one really was, least of all a boy who'd witnessed what he had.

"Oh, it was still pretty special." He said, a wry smile on his lips. "Bet Gary doesn't have Ditto cells. Bingo."

"It's all about the small victories, huh?" Oak retorted.

"You got it." A pause. "What about the Pikachu?"

Oak blinked at that. Had he not expected that question? Perhaps he hadn't; Ash supposed the old professor was waiting with bated breath for him to ask when he could get his real starter and set out on his journey. Ash himself was dying to ask that, so it was fine, but this was something he needed to know first.

He'd been asking himself about it since he woke up - what happened to the Pikachu. Asking, and praying to Mew and Arceus that the answer wasn't as bad as he feared. He'd seen what happened to feral Pokemon before. It wasn't pretty.

Oak managed to calm his fears.

"He wasn't put down, if that's what you're afraid of." The old Professor said, eliciting a sigh of relief from the bed-ridden boy… which in turn drew a smile from his lips. "We sent him to a training facility in Cerulean, handled by the Police Force there; He'll be set straight in no time, and then you can pick him up if you'd like."

That drew Ash's attention. He sat up again, ignoring the flaring pain in his back as he did so, and looked at the Professor with apt interest dancing in his eyes.

"Really?"

"Really," Oak confirmed. "As long as you're fine with it. He was given to you, mistake or no."

That made Ash grow thoughtful for a moment. Was he fine with it? He wasn't really sure. In a way, he hadn't really processed all that had happened quite yet; it had all happened way too quickly, and by the time he woke up, he'd been too concerned with the thought that Pikachu would be killed to really think about how he felt about the mouse that had almost killed him.

. . . He didn't hate it, he decided. He was a little scared of it, but he didn't begrudge it. It wasn't malicious, just scared. Wild Pokemon lashed out, and Pikachu had effectively been wild. But was he comfortable with it?

Ash really couldn't tell. He hadn't really had the time to deal with it. But he thought so, at least. He never got enough time to be scared of the thing, having gone straight from surprised to worried. If he changed his mind, he changed his mind. For now...

"I think I'm fine." He spoke after a while, his voice soft even to him. Still, he nodded to himself with a smile. "So Pikachu will still be my starter, huh…"

A weird way to start a journey. Really weird. But he supposed no one interesting had a boring start to their life as trainers, so why should he? This would only make his chapter in future history books cooler for people to read.

But Oak surprised him by shaking his head.

"No. As it is, Pikachu won't be ready for you for months still, and you'll be released with the permission to engage in light exercise in a week at most. I've no doubts you're leaving as soon as you can, and I won't stop you."

Yeah.

He was a month behind everyone else, after all. A month was plenty of time; Gary had likely already arrived and left Pewter by this point, though it was unlikely he'd already gone through Mount Moon. In a month, everyone else had likely gotten stronger than Ash could believe. Meanwhile, he'd been rotting away at a hospital.

Just like last time.

"But if Pikachu won't be my starter… What will?"

Samuel Oak smiled mischievously. It was a much better look on his face, Ash instantly decided. The professor should always remain lively; that world-weary look of a man who'd carried too much height on his shoulders was one Ash didn't want to see again for the rest of his life.

"That Bulbasaur is still waiting for you, you know." He said, and Ash made an 'o' sound with his mound, already imagining what it must have been like for the poor old fellow. "Your mother has been talking to her about you, and she's quite enamoured already."

Oh, so it was a her? Interesting. Though Bulbasaur hadn't been his first choice, Ash found that he was tremendously excited to meet her regardless. Hindsight is 20/20. He'd been too stuck up on the time he'd spent choosing his pick to focus on the cool things a Bulbasaur could bring to the table.

"Cool," he decided.

"Very cool," Oak agreed with a nod and a smile, though something told Ash that he wasn't finished. "But there's more!"

There we go.

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't think I'd set you back a month and not give you a single thing to compensate you for your troubles, did you?" Ash refrained from telling him that he wasn't responsible for his accident, but just barely. The Professor knew his thoughts on the matter. "No, no. I phoned up a... friend of mine, and he was more than happy to provide me with a specimen in the name of solidifying friendly relationships between our Leagues."

The way the Professor had hesitated before saying the word 'friend', alongside the comment at the end about solidifying league relationships, told Ash all he needed to know. Whomever he or she was, they were most likely from Kalos or Unova, and Oak had probably used his reputation to leverage them into handing him whatever it was that he wanted. His reputation as both scientist and survivor of a dishonorable attack near the end of the war got him at least that much.

Which was interesting, since Kanto had technically lost the war.

Before, he was curious. Now he was interested.

"What is it?" He asked promptly, leaning forward with stars in his eyes. Oak leaned forward conspiratorially, looking at the door as if making sure no one was approaching before withdrawing a Pokeball from within his lab coat.

"I've actually got her right here." He said, handing him a beautifully polished Luxury Ball. It's gorgeous black and gold surface drew his attention immediately, and he ran his fingers through the sleek and smooth material. "Feel free to bring her out if you'd like. I have it on good authority that they can't stop you."

Translation: He'd planned this little exchange out with the doctors. He knew the old Professor, after all.

Ash didn't mind, though. He was too busy being excited. With trembling hands, he pressed the button on the Luxury Ball, and marveled at the creature that was released from within it in as brilliant a flash of white as any, very adamantly fighting back the memories that arose when he thought of the last time he saw such a flash. Instead, he concentrated on the creature that now stood on his chest.

It was… a fox?

Yes. A fox, but not a Vulpix - even still, he was sure it was a fire-type. The little fox had large, red eyes and beautifully trimmed light yellow fur, alongside large ears that housed tuffs of red fur. It's tail was similarly puffy, and it's muzzle was pure white. All in all, the Pokemon looked cute - in fact, that was the first thing that ran through his mind when he saw it.

It has fangs, he dimly noted, so it's probably carnivorous. It's a fox, his mind soon supplied. Of course it's carnivorous. What did you expect?

"That there is Fennekin - it is one of the three starters distributed in the Kalos Region. I managed to convince Professor Sycamore to procure one for you." He paused again, and then chuckled a little sheepishly. "I initially asked him for a Froakie instead, to compensate for your desire for a Water-type, but it seems like Greninja are very picky when it comes to mating and rarely produce extra offspring."

"That's fine," he absent-mindedly replied, staring at the small fox on his chest. The small creature looked back at him with wide red eyes, a curious look on its face. "It's perfect."

"He," Professor Oak corrected.

Ash nodded once. That made sense.

"He 's perfect."

Seemingly content with his answer, the small fox nuzzled into his neck with a lighthearted yip he didn't know how to describe, and the boy settled for running his fingers through the small fox's fur rhythmically, which he seemed to appreciate somewhat. It was quite warm to the touch, he noticed.

He paused. Continued to pet Fennekin while the good Professor watched in pleased interest, then, once he knew how to form the words he wanted to say, turned to Oak with furrowed eyebrows as a show of his discontentment.

"I really love him," he said, "and I'm really grateful, but… you didn't have to do all this. It wasn't your fault."

Oak froze for a second or two, looking at him with an odd look in his eyes before shaking his head, though that didn't really tell Ash all that much. The silence was a little uncomfortable, but he decided it was probably for the best to leave the Professor to ponder instead of pressing him to answer immediately. He'd no doubts that the man was conflicted, to put it mildly.

"Yes, I did," Oak finally managed, a grave look in his eyes once again. "You may not understand it quite yet, but you will in time. Trust me on that."

Something about those words told him that there was no arguing with the Professor on this point, despite the discomfort they made bubble in his throat. Against his instincts, he nodded once and turned to look at the Fennekin that still laid on his chest.

Food for later thought, he supposed. Bleh.


After the weeks he'd spent in the hospital, going home felt a little… weird. His mom had long since taken Fennekin to stay there with Bulbasaur, which he was admittedly a little bitter about, but he knew he couldn't properly care for him while confined to a white room. Still, she'd made sure to send him pictures of Fennekin and Bulbasaur daily through the PokeNav she'd gotten him, which did a good job in assuaging some of his discomfort. His mother really was the best, for all that she could at times feel a little overwhelming.

Thankfully, there was no reception for them in Pallet. There would have been, had they simply driven in like Delia originally intended, but he'd been quick to call Professor Oak and ask his Alakazam to Teleport them instead, unwilling to look at the people who'd undoubtedly pity him. The 'trip', therefore, had lasted exactly a second before they were both unceremoniously dropped on their doorstep.

"I'll never understand how some people prefer… that." Delia whispered to the side, drawing a snicker from Ash's lips before he could even think of keeping them to himself. His mother's distaste for teleportation was legendary. "I understand why you chose it, but… eugh." She made a show of spitting out air, and Ash couldn't stop himself from giggling at the silly expressions, which was probably her intention in the first place.

Still, they opened the door to their house at once, and Ash admittedly relished at the familiar click and sight that reached him then. As much as a huge part of him wanted nothing more than to gather his Pokemon, grab his stuff and leave as soon as possible to make sure he wasn't even further behind everyone else, there was still a part of his mind that wanted nothing more than to relish in the safety of what's familiar after all that time spent in the hospital surrounded by doctors.

They walked in, and Ash immediately looked around the living room with wide, watchful eyes. To his right, his mother chuckled, clearly knowing precisely what he was looking for.

"They're in your room, sweetie," she told him, a gentle expression on her face that grew a little at his own starstruck eyes. "I've been telling Bulbasaur plenty about you, so she's quite eager to meet you! Be a dear and -"

He didn't let her finish, having broken into a sprint up the stairs as soon as the location was given. His joints protested just a little bit at the sudden movement, but not enough to be worth thinking about, and Ash managed to stumble his way into his room without any complications, practically barging his way into his own room as the door was rushedly opened for him to step in.

The sudden noise woke up the two Pokemon that laid within, who both had previously been comfortably sleeping on his bed. Bulbasaur, he noticed, was a little larger than she looked like in the pictures he'd been sent. Her skin was leathery, but appeared healthy, and her wide red eyes were a few tones deeper than Fennekin's own. Her characteristic bulb was large, but still quite tightly shut, which indicated she was still a bit far from her eventual evolution into Ivysaur.

Fennekin had apparently taken to sleeping whilst curled up next to her, which he found adorable. The fox was still clearly half-asleep, blinking frequently and letting out a soft yip that felt drawled in his sleepiness. Upon seeing Ash, however, his eyes widened a little and the fire-type made a point of standing up.

Ash's grin was so large that it threatened to split his face in half.

"Hi!"

It may have taken him an extra month, but he was finally meeting his partners. Properly, this time.

!

An oomph was forced out of his lungs as he was tackled aggressively by the Bulbasaur, who let out a very content growl as she launched herself into his arms. A giggle escaped his lips as he managed to catch her, though his balance was unquestionably sacrificed and he fell on his but as he did. It didn't matter, of course. The only important thing right now was meeting his new friend.

"H-Hey there, buddy!" Ash managed to say between his giggles, already looking at the Bulbasaur with joyful eyes. "S'nice to meet ya!"

Another happy noise was his response from the Bulbasaur, who pressed her head against his chest. His mother had told him she was a sweetheart, but he hadn't expected this; it was as pleasant a surprise as he could imagine. He absent-mindedly remembered Professor Oak's lessons about the Starters, trying to recall where the Bulbasaur line liked to be caressed. On top of their head and between their small little ears, if he wasn't mistaken. Bulbasaur let out a drawn-out and contented growl when he started petting her there, so he supposed his memory hadn't failed him this time.

Fennekin jumped off his bed, rushing over to them in as few movements as he could. Then, much to his surprise, he jumped on Bulbasaur and then from Bulbasaur, eliciting a small growl from the small grass-type who'd been made into a jumping pad. It also elicited a "Woah!" of surprise from Ash himself, seeing as the Fennekin had unceremoniously jumped on his head.

It wasn't particularly large, but it was still a lot heavier than you'd usually expect someone to carry on the top of their heads. Still, he struggled to remain immobile and let the fox have his fun. A chuckle from the doorway told him that his mother had followed him up and was watching them fondly, but right then and there, he didn't really care.

For once, things felt like they were on the right track.


The oppressive sensation that permeated all of their skins wasn't there for no reason. Though Bruno, Agatha and Lorelei were more than familiar with the strength possessed by the Champion under whom they served, there was a large difference between knowing it and fearing it.

The man who had once been the most powerful in the Indigo Elite Four, and the man who had taken over the Indigo throne after slaying his own Champion to end a bloody war - Lance Wataru. Around him lay the smoking remains of a dozen Team Rocket stooges and their Pokemon, all of them effortlessly destroyed by the man's Charizard, Helios.

Not a single one was left alive.

Lance had always been an imposing figure, even before he ascended to the throne. With the dark cape of the Drake clan enshrouding his silhouette in black at all times and his deep red hair framing a face of sharp and intense features, with thin black eyes that were sharper than one could imagine, Lance had been a popular contender for the title of strongest long before he proved his worth, and had arguably been just as feared by the Indigo League's enemies.

Now, though, he was different. Sharper. Angrier, in ways that words often failed to properly describe. The champion marched through the rows of corpses without as much of a spark of care in his eyes, a far cry for the usual smile he wore when dealing with matters that weren't as dire. Helios, enshrouded by the quasi-perpetual hue of Mega Evolution, his scales black and fire bright blue, followed suit, a snarling grin on his snout as he contemplated the destruction he had wrought.

The message sent was clear: no mercy for Team Rocket. But the Rockets weren't the only target of Lance's interest. Or his rage.

With a grimace in his features that emphasized the turbulence in his chest, he turned sharply to stare at his Elite Four, all of whom gazed at him with some sort of reverence. Agatha's was wry, condescending in the way she always found a way to be, but respectful of his power nonetheless. Bruno's was hesitant, understanding the necessity but condemning the excessive force. And Lorelei… Lance could never really dismantle her intentions. Hers was a gaze of cold reverence, analytical in every sense of the word. He caught the barest hint of fear, however, and let himself feel content: the message was sent.

Finally, he turned to Bruno with a cold nod, eyes wandering to the man's Medicham. The Pokemon was unshaken by the horror it was surrounded by, instead simply nodding back at him with strength of spirit he was somewhat impressed by. His concerns, however, stayed the same.

"Medicham," he called out. "Did you get it?"

Medicham weren't known for their subtle applications of psychic power. That usually was reserved for Hypno and Alakazam. But he didn't trust Will or Sabrina with these matters. Not nearly enough. Medicham would have to do.

Medicham paused, then nodded once. His grimace became more intense.

"Where." He demanded at once. The psychic answered promptly, not with words but with a vision - a sprawling city that expanded past where the eyes could see, with beautiful buildings and an awe-inspiring tower near the back. He knew this place. He knew it far too well.

Of course it would be there.

With a snort, he turned to his fellow Elite Four.

"It seems like we've sniffed out the Johto Separatists, finally." He informed them. "My suspicions proved to be correct; they were hiring the Rockets to gather resources. Buckle up, everyone; it seems like we're paying Falkner another visit…"

In truth, Lance couldn't wait to get there. He would crush Falkner like Surge had crushed his father, and burn down the remains of the resistance in full.

Then, just maybe, this nightmare would finally end.