Who I Am - Lightning99

Chapter 4:

A Similar Story

Ash awoke at dawn the next morning to a soothing warmth that felt more than the sun. He peeled his eyes apart slowly because they felt glued together and stung where the previous night's tears had dried. But he threw them open and his body upright when, impossibly, he saw Pallet Town in flames flicker across his vision. He was seized by a moment of terror, thinking that his escape had all been a dream. But then his eyes adjusted, and Ash relaxed, relieved when he saw Infernape's flickering, fiery mane beside him. He puffed out a breath, fell back down, and saw the world for how it truly looked.

The dawn was blooming just above the trees, a warm orange glow expanding upon the vast black horizon like a door slowly opening, filtering light into a dark room. The few grey clouds slowly became violet, and the pale green of the dark forest slowly began to colour and gleam. Soon, the different flora was like emerald gemstones amid the shadows the canopy created. The darkness had made the lake beside him black, but now, rippling gently in the breeze, it gradually became transparent, revealing the Pokémon bustling beneath the surface.

It looked to Ash, whose last glimpse of the sky had been of one clouded by smoke and lit by fire, as if the world had reversed.

Ash sat back up and looked at Infernape, wondering why he was out of his Pokéball. He yawned and stretched his arms, brushing a sleek surface that fluttered against his touch.

Ash looked around and came upon Staraptor's feathers. Infernape, it seemed, was not the only one out of his Pokéball. Staraptor, who he had just accidentally prodded, had one of his wings resting over Ash's body like a blanket; Sceptile's tail acted as the pillow he had been sleeping on, and Heracross was asleep on his feet like a sentry at a castle's keep. Ash's lips upturned a millimetre, a growing warmth soothing his battered heart. He wondered how they knew to do that, despite not knowing what had happened.

Ash carefully slipped from beneath Staraptor's wing and traipsed around the sleeping doters. He sat against a tree trunk a short distance away, and for a moment, he was calm. But as his grogginess faded, his heart seemed to reawaken, to ache again. And then his thoughts resurfaced, and he heard their taunting comments again, and he saw their faces in his mind's eye, and all he could think was that this must be what it felt like to have everything you believed turn out to be a lie.

Ash quickly realised what he felt now wasn't like what had caused him to break down last night. He had been in hysterics last night, in a state of confusion and disassociation with everything, until he had broken down after enduring for long enough. Now that he was somewhat calmer and more coherent, he felt the loss, emptiness, and heartbreak, all twisted together as if replacing his DNA. The way his memories looped like a video flicked onto replay did nothing to ease the sensation.

So far throughout his life, Ash had rarely had to battle with sadness, aside from the few years of bullying in school he hadn't completely understood – a result of his over-infatuation with Pokémon. He wondered if his sadness now was making up for that or whether the ordeal was just that damaging. Whatever the cause, Ash felt like crying again.

But he held himself together. He refused to break again because he didn't want to.

Ash tried to distract himself by turning his eye to the glade instead. Now, awakened as he was, the beautiful sight he had woken up to moments ago may as well have been grey.

It was then that the warmth in the air hit him. The heat felt hotter than Kalos, yet more tolerable somehow. But it was still too hot to wear a jacket, so Ash took his off. He cringed when he saw the condition it was in: black ash, smoke, and dirt camouflaged the white lines, and rips ruined the fabric. He only vaguely remembered them doing so, but it was no wonder people had stared at him last night.

Guessing that he looked as filthy as his jacket, Ash decided to wash himself down at the lake. As he made to remove his shirt, he seized up and winced as an agonising stinging sensation shot across his side. Wincing all the while, Ash more carefully removed his t-shirt, then assessed the damage with a grimace.

He had a dagger-width cut slashed across his right side, edging around to his athletic torso by about an inch. Crimson blood had cemented on the skin lining the entire cut. The scar from that injury would be the worst of the countless he had accumulated throughout his travels. Other than that major injury, his chest and torso had purpling bruises tattered across them and minor scrapes, too. Somehow, though, it was less painful than the chaotic emotions inside him.

Ash reached into the water and patted himself down with handfuls of limpid water. It blackened with grime and blood as it cascaded down the folds of his upper body and onto the grass, telling Ash had been correct. At the same time, the water cleansed his fatigue and lessened his aches a little bit, too, a surprisingly revitalising feeling.

"Pikachu?"

Pikachu padded towards Ash, his big eyes exuding concern. "Hey, Pikachu. I'm ok, just cleaning up."

The small Pokémon sat at the banking, and after cleaning his wound and slipping his t-shirt back on, Ash sat beside him.

"Pika."

Ash rolled his eyes, "Yeah, I know I need some new clothes."

"Pika!"

"You look like crap, too," Ash said, allowing a small laugh because he understood why Pikachu's said such a thing. That was his way of coping.

"What're we gonna do now?" Ash asked after a pause. "We can't go back. I – can't go and see them. See her." Ash sighed. "How did it all come to this, Pikachu? Did we do something to hurt them?"

Pikachu shook his head, crawling onto Ash's shoulder. "Pika – chu…"

"No, I know I didn't do anything. I couldn't have done anything. We've been in Kalos all year. I guess I – I want to know why. It couldn't have only been losing the Kalos League. Maybe it's as they said. They've realised I'm a bad trainer and want me to stop. They wouldn't be wrong, though. What have I won besides the Orange League? I never win when it counts," Ash muttered.

"Infernape!" a half-groggy, half-spirited cry came from the Flame Pokémon behind them. Infernape, semi-awake, was sat on a tree stump, his mane conforming to the wind's current. The other three Pokémon were starting to stir around him.

"Thanks, Infernape," Ash said. "Knowing you think I'm the best is comforting."

"Infernape!" He grinned, "Nape?"

"Oh, right, you guys don't know what happened. I'll explain when the others are up," Ash said, sitting amongst them.

Five minutes later, he began the explanation. It became harder and harder to continue with each passing minute. By the end, of which he reserved for talking about Serena, Ash was tight roping over tears again. He managed to collect himself just before his Pokémon overloaded him with compliments and reassurances that they wouldn't leave. Ash couldn't express his appreciation for their comments with words alone.

Yet, despite it all, the negative thoughts clung on. He knew they would for a while. Maybe they would even be eternal.

As the conversation finished and they sat in silence, Ash felt a sudden need to do something, anything. To get up and walk, get some food, anything to occupy his mind for a while.

Recalling Pikachu's words about his clothes, Ash decided to go and buy some. He gathered his things, threw his jacket and Pokégear into his bag, noticing something inside he'd forgotten about, and turned to leave. He realised then that he did not recognise where he was at all. His memory of the previous night was filled with blanks. He must have been more on the edge of consciousness last night than he had thought. He could not even remember the path back to the city.

So, Ash asked Staraptor to find it for him. Pikachu quipped about Ash's awful sense of direction, yet Ash could not laugh, knowing the real reason behind his jokes. As Staraptor returned and they headed off, Ash hoped Pikachu would be ok more than he wished himself to be.

Ash was amazed to see the city wasn't a metropolis but a modest coastal paradise.

His first glimpse of the city was from the forest's edge, where several small, detached houses stood, jutting into and entangled in groves of long grass and trees. Their gardens were larger than any Ash had seen, brimming with brightly coloured berries and trees and with swimming pools. The bulk of the city was a shopping district adjoined to the beachfront by a large pier, filled with what appeared to be a blend of businesses, houses, and a couple of modest industry complexes. Cars were sparse on the roads, and the pavements were enhanced by curving palm trees and bordered by a spectrum of flowers from reds to purples to yellows. And it was all backdropped by a shimmering blue sea and the dense, healthy forestry.

Compared to most, it was a small-scale city, but its people strolled unrestrained, fearless of the roads and jovial to the Pokémon bounding to-and-fro. Lumiose, its noise and bustle of screaming vendors, cars, and bellowing conversations, was in a different world than this new city, in which the wind and chirping birds were the loudest audible sounds. Ash had never been to such an exotic, liberal place. He only wished his mood would allow him to enjoy it to its fullest.

Ash headed into the city, where he spotted – and mentally registered – the locations of a Poké-Center and a Poké-Mart adjacent to one another. He passed through a marketplace, where a Charizard flew overhead with somebody a-ride its back, and when Ash looked at the golden-sand beach which soaked-up the bubbly foam of the leisurely waves, someone was riding a Lapras out at sea. It made Ash curious, but the natives seemed more curious of him.

A short, ginger-haired boy plodding along had his eyes locked on Ash as they passed, specifically on Pikachu. His interest made sense. They were in a new region, after all, one in which Pikachu may not be a native species. Even if they were native, there were differences between Pokémon born in different regions.

That fact seemed to jump-start Ash's mind, reminding him that they were in a new region, which meant there were new Pokémon to find and meet. Sadly, he could not muster his usual excitement for adventure, an occurrence that had never happened in his career.

After half an hour of scouring, Ash found a clothes shop hidden between a café and a vendor van. Once inside, it did not take him long to pick out a white and blue striped t-shirt and a pair of three-quarter length black shorts. He'd rarely chosen his outfits himself, but they were his staple colours. He knew they suited him.

He opted for some blue sports shoes to accommodate his usual reckless adventuring and copped a black and blue bag from behind the counter. Pikachu leapt from his shoulder to a hat rack when he moved to pay, flinging a red cap onto his head. Jumping back, Pikachu grinned at him.

Smiling back, Ash took his Pokégear from his bag to pay, but it did not turn on when he clicked the power button. He groaned.

"It's broken…" Ash inhaled slowly, wondering whether there was anything else that could go wrong. He now had no money, no way to properly survive more than a week without scavenging the forests. He decided it must have been damaged in the chaos.

Ash paid with the pennies left over from purchasing his plane ticket. He changed his outfit in the changing rooms, exchanged everything into his new bag, and headed for the door. For a reason unknown to even himself, he kept his old, tattered outfit.

Ash left the shop to a routine 'please come again' and headed straight to the nearby vendor, which sold doughnuts, to procure a snack for the team. He bought a doughnut each with the last of his money, then moved to a secluded park bench nearby and recalled his Pokémon to give them their food. Their hunger proved mightier than he'd anticipated when the food disappeared in seconds, and their eyes pled for more.

"Sorry guys, that's all we can get for now. Until we can get this thing fixed," Ash showed his Pokégear, "we can't buy anything, which sucks. We can't even call home at the Poké-Center because of international costs. We could always go search for food in the forest?" Ash suggested, and it was not only to abate their hunger. It was all he could think of doing to pass the time, especially with how clouded his mind was, in a place he couldn't be bothered.

His Pokémon nodded their approval, and so it was decided. However, walking back through town with an entourage of foreign Pokémon abandoned discretion. Everybody stared at them when he wanted nothing more than to be left alone to cope with his emotions. He hurried into the forest again. From there, Ash allowed his Pokémon free to search for themselves. He trusted their instinct and abilities, and, honestly, he wanted some time to sort through his thoughts.

And so, they started searching for food, an activity that kept them occupied for most of the day. Every now and again, his Pokémon would rush back from the forest's depths with some berries, but Ash did not find any himself.

When he was alone, he thought of everything that had happened to him. He remembered all of the good times he and his friends had before everything happened. He wondered where it had all come from. He pondered everything that he did not have the answer to, and by nightfall, he had no more answers than when he had started. All he had were more questions, more heartache, and a hunger the mound of berries he and his Pokémon devoured did not quite satiate.

Ash was the last to fall asleep. His thoughts kept him up, but he did not cry this time. He wanted to – he desperately wanted to – but he didn't. He still didn't want to, so he looked to his Pokémon, for they were proof he was not alone. He had to cling to them or didn't know what he would do.

He fell asleep eventually, to a final question:

Why had this happened to him?

Another beautiful morning greeted Ash when he awoke, yet it was still dull to him. He was the first up again, and he waited for his Pokémon to wake up. When they did, he decided to go for a walk, another endeavour to clear his head. He spent a while just walking through the forest and the city, but like yesterday, it did absolutely nothing to stop his thinking. It made him think more, even, and the more he thought, the more he realised he had no idea what he was doing. He was just passing the day away doing absolutely nothing again.

As he passed a shop window, he surprised himself at how pleased he was to read that it was already two in the afternoon. Ash stopped, then, and sighed. He sat down on a park bench, shaking his head.

Sorry, everyone," he said, addressing his Pokémon, who had been following him around all day. "I have no idea what I'm doing. Do you have any ideas? I don't want to keep doing nothing, just walking around, and thinking 'what if?'."

Ash felt somewhat ashamed asking his Pokémon for ideas. Maybe, he thought, that was what made him such a terrible trainer: did he leave everything to his Pokémon rather than making his own decisions, owning his responsibilities? Ash was grateful, though, when they each offered solutions. Sceptile mentioned training, and Ash thought it was perfect. If there was one activity he could always rely on to take his mind off things, it was training. Deciding that was the best, they headed off to find a place to train, which turned out to be a small forest clearing.

At first, Ash could not muster the effort to say more than a move name. Their sparring was sloppy and slow, the opposite of Ash's usual dynamic, lively actions. Then, as time passed, Ash managed to focus and forget everything for short periods. As the first dreary hour came to a close, he found his rhythm and was able to battle through his thoughts.

Over the hours, Ash pitted each Pokémon against one another; he called out tactics and move names for them to perform; they leapt off trees and the rocks and fought hand-to-hand at close range. The longer they trained, the more mojo Ash recovered. His mind returned to that of a professional sleuth, determining the right moves for each scenario and the intricate movements needed to avoid each attack. For a random bystander, it would seem like an action sequence you would see at Pokéstar Studios. Something orchestrated over months of practice.

"Infernape, Mach Punch consecutively! Pikachu, dodge, and use Iron Tail!"

Watching his Pokémon enact his commands as perfectly as if they knew his thought process and feeling the adrenaline cleansing his veins, Ash became a mask of himself, revived on the outside, fighting on the inside. He smiled widely and, his eyes incandescent with their rekindled fire as he revelled in the sensation of the battle, commanded the next act, unaware of the onlooker peeking through the treeline, his expression a perfect mirror of the astonishment in his eyes.

"Infernape! Flame Wheel!" The Flame Pokémon rapidly tucked into a ball of vermillion flames, tearing towards the small electric type. "Pikachu, Quick Attack out of the way!" Pikachu did as Ash said.

"Pikachu, finish it!" Ash commanded next, not even realising his command didn't include a move. But he had a move in his head, one Pikachu had not used in a long time, and Pikachu dashed forwards anyway, knowingly, a veil of crackling lightning exploding over and behind his small frame. He slammed into Infernape's chest, who was caught off-guard and knocked him back into a tree. Pikachu flipped once in the air, landing coolly on his paws.

Pikachu yelled aloud, dashing side-to-side, leaping up and down. He ran to Ash's feet, who knelt and rustled the fur on his head.

"Woah, that was Volt Tackle! Nice work, buddy! How did you know I was thinking about telling you to us it?" Ash said. "Good work to you too, Infernape! That was an awesome battle! I guess it's a misconception that if you stop using a move, a Pokémon forgets it." Infernape cried his agreement, and Pikachu began bragging once more.

A sudden sound of clapping from the trees made Ash jump. He spun around, and it was as if a Stun Spore paralysed him when he saw who approached.

"Those were some incredible battling skills, young man! And that Volt Tackle, just wow!"

"What the…" Ash muttered, his eyes agape in disbelief.

Standing behind him was a man that could have been Professor Oak's twin.

"Allow me to introduce myself: I am Samson Oak."

The tanner, white-shoulder-length-haired version of Professor Oak led Ash through town to a quaint restaurant on the city's outskirt, beside the forest's boundary. It was a small building, but homely inside, its wooden décor a perfect representation of the island life Ash had so far seen. And it was busy there, a clear indication of its local status Ash only saw it in the background, however. He was too focused on staring at Samson to say or do anything. Samson did not seem to be Oak's envoy to Ash's relief. He did not seem to intend to bring Ash home. However, that fact did nothing to lessen his surprise.

They stood silently in line. When they reached the counter, Samson ordered a table-filling list of foods from a green-haired girl poised behind it. Ash saw her peeking at him a few times. Guessing it was most likely because of his injuries, Ash followed Samson to a table and slid into the booth opposite – his Pokémon clambered in beside him.

"Let me begin by saying, it's nice to meet you, Ash."

"Hang on. You know who I am?" Ash asked.

Samson nodded, "You won't remember me – Pidove – but I met you before when you were very young. I moved here, to the Alola Region, before you were at an age to remember me. I heard you started a journey some years ago now, and I have been following your journey since. I've searched online for footage of your league battles. I am especially impressed with your runner-up placement this year! Remarkable! As a Pokémon Professor myself, I am quite intrigued about your Greninja, but that should wait," Samson said, chuckling.

"Oh, thanks, Professor." Ash knew Samson was a different man but talking to him was uncomfortably like talking to Samuel. "But, uh, what has a Pidove got to do with anything?"

"Oh, no, no, nothing! I enjoy using Pokémon puns, and Pidove is a forgetful Pokémon! Hahaha!" Maybe it wasn't so similar.

"Pika…"

Pikachu was right. Oh, Arceus.

"Right… So how come you were watching us battle, Professor?" Ash asked.

"For two reasons, Doublade! Firstly, I wanted to see you battling first-hand. You can't experience it fully from a video screen."

"I hear that," Ash agreed.

"Right?!" Samson shouted, almost vaulting over the table – Ash nearly crushed himself against the seat to avoid him. Samson leaned back. "Ahem. The second reason. Well… I received a call from my cousin – for the first time in fifteen years, might I add – to tell me that you had died, and–"

"What?!" Ash exclaimed.

"Pika?!"

"Indeed–"

"Here you go!" the green-haired girl chirped, sliding their plates onto the table. Neither of them had noticed her approach.

"Ah, thank you," Ash said tepidly. He tried to be as polite as possible, though he couldn't ignore what Samson had just said.

"No problem!" She smiled widely, cutely, at him and skipped away. As the pair continued talking, the food quickly diminished, most of which was Ash and his Pokémon's doing

"Yes, he told me you died, so I was shocked when I saw you leaving the clothes shop. He said he thinks you died because somebody saw your body at the scene, and, apparently, he's kept it on the down-low, so your mother hasn't been told, and neither have your friends. So he says, anyway. I'm just disgusted that he sounded as if he was – relieved? Not that that is anything new," Samson explained, sighing at the end.

"Wait, anything new? Do you mean he's acted like that before?" Ash asked. The possibility that Oak had acted this way toward someone else was comforting, in a twisted way.

"Yes. You see, I didn't intend to move to Alola. An incident led to me moving here, which occurred because of that man."

"W-What happened? If you don't mind explaining."

"Not at all. That was my intention from the beginning. At first, he and I were partners. I started making discoveries and – immortalising my name in the public's eye. He didn't like it. He tarnished my name and reputation, almost forcing me to move out here for something I hadn't done."

"What did he do?" Ash asked, leaning forwards in tandem with Pikachu.

"Identity theft, in a way. He – used my name to fake some awful crimes, like abusing Pokémon, creating evidence for it because of our similarities. All he needed was a wig, and he could do it because of his influence. I became hated in Kanto, so I moved out here where people didn't know me. We don't get international television over here, so it is unknown unless you specifically search the internet for something from overseas. For example, nobody else would know about you unless they watch Pokémon League tournaments online. Because of this, I could start anew," Samson explained.

Ash couldn't believe Professor Oak had done such a thing. He was suddenly angrier than depressed, but only momentarily. "I guess I was lucky, then," Ash responded, looking at his feet.

"How so?"

"Well, something similar happened to me. I arrived home from Kalos after placing runner up to find that Oak had gathered a lot of my friends. When I visited his lab, they told me to give up on being a trainer, that I'm a terrible trainer. My Pokémon agreed – uh, they seemed to agree. The attack let me get away from them, and I decided to get a plane ticket to a random place. I came here. Alola, was it?" Ash said quietly.

Samson reached across the table and patted Ash's shoulder. "My cousin is despicable. I'm sorry you had to go through that, Ash."

"Thanks, Professor, and you, too. That must have been hard," Ash said.

"It was. But Alola is a wonderful place to live, so I'm content with my life now. You got lucky, indeed."

"If you don't mind me asking Professor," Ash folded his arms anxiously, "did your cousin say what happened to Pallet Town?"

"He hung up quickly, but he said the Kanto news channel – which Samuel now owns – covered the attack and that Pallet was destroyed."

"No way. That means my mum was in the middle of it all!"

"Oh, of course! I didn't even think."

"Arceus, I hope she's ok. If only my Pokégear worked, I could contact her! I can't even use the Poké-Center phone because I have no money! What am I gonna do?!" Ash put his head to the table, suddenly overridden by worry about his mother. He'd missed so much time with her while out adventuring, which was why he had decided before he left Kalos to stop adventuring for a year and spend some time with her. If she was hurt, he didn't know what he would do. At least she didn't think he was dead.

"I would offer my phone, but I don't have one. Could I pay for the phone?"

"Thank you, Professor, but I can't even remember the number, like a stupid teenager I am. I have it saved on my Pokégear, so I don't memorise it," Ash said, sighing.

"Kids relying on technology."

"You don't even have a phone," Ash said, unimpressed.

"I'm an old man on a tropical island. What use do I have for a mobile phone?"

"You make a good point."

"You were supposed to say I'm not old," Samson frowned.

"You said it, not me."

"Oh, never mind that! Don't worry, Ash, there's somebody I know that should be able to help you," Samson said.

"Really?"

"Yes, he'll be at a festival we're holding tonight called the Festival of Honouring." It was Ash's turn to frown. "By your expression, I'd say you're confused. Every year around this time, the citizens of the four main islands of Alola meet to honour the Guardian Deities of their respective islands in a manner befitting their natures. Here on Melemele Island, our Guardian Deity, Tapu Koko, likes to battle, so we hold a battling festival in his honour."

Four different islands, Guardian Deities, honouring festivals – Ash was suddenly interested by the notion of experiencing something new, something exciting. The idea of a journey in the new region had not occurred to him yet, but now it sounded interesting. That was the second quality of his to be somewhat revived after the events two days before. Maybe he would be ok, eventually.

"Guardian Deities?" Ash asked first, needing to know more.

Samson nodded, "Yes. They are Legendary Pokémon. Each deity overlooks the wellbeing of each island, and they each have shrines dedicated to them somewhere on the island. If you follow the trail going northeast through the woods, you'll come out on the path to the Ruins of Conflict, Tapu Koko's shrine. You can also go around the city and through Iki Town, but it takes longer," Samson explained, peering down at his watch.

"Ah, I'm afraid I have to be off now, business and all that. I'll be at the festival tonight. Come and find me, ok? If you want to know more about the Guardian Deities, visiting the shrine is a good way," Samson said, stacking the cleaned-off plates and sliding them to the table's edge.

Ash stood as Samson did, reaching across the table to shake his hand.

"Thanks, Professor, for everything. I feel better having talked about things," Ash said, putting his bag on. Pikachu climbed onto Ash's shoulder, raising a paw and stating his agreement. He returned the rest of his Pokémon.

"Me too, Ash. I'm glad we had this talk. Now, then, I'll see you later – Flygon!" With a wave and an expression that looked creepily like a Flygon, Samson paid for the food and left. Ash exited the restaurant a few seconds later, catching the girl watching him again, and followed Samson's directions.

The trek through the jungle-like forestry was longer than Ash had anticipated – he was sure he'd ventured the wrong way more than once. Dew-slathered overgrowth slapped against his legs, and the ferns were hard to avoid. He eventually stepped through a shield of bushes into an open gulley leading uphill. Wondering if it was worth it anymore – Pikachu was clearly tired of aimlessly walking, not that he'd taken a step – Ash started climbing a series of wooden steps that poked out from the earth.

Suddenly, Ash heard a terrified scream, forcing his heart into a frenzied acceleration.

"Somebody help!"