AN: I've generally never liked the inclusion of paratext before a fic - generally I sort of prefer that the text speaks for itself. However, I did feel like it might be helpful to include my perspective.
I haven't actively engaged with the anime canon in a very, very long time, now - I keep up to date on where our boy's at in his travels, but I am nearly twenty years removed from the last time I regularly tuned in to watch the thing. With this in mind, I'm painting with some very broad strokes, here: this is a 30-year old version of the Ash that I remember watching on the VCR collections I kept. As for everything between then and now, I'm familiar with the peaks if not the valleys. This is sort of my attempt to put all of the unresolved feelings I have for this show to bed.
Twenty years is a long time to be doing this.
It was a long time to spend on the road, on his feet - his body kept up for the first fifteen, and it kept up in the best shape a young man could ask for. But at thirty, he'd long since started to notice the hills getting a little steeper. The routes started getting a little longer. And it got even harder than it used to be to wake himself up every morning.
It was a long time to spend on a pursuit with so few other people involved - yes, there had been his friends, at least in the beginning. But people don't stay in the same place in life forever. They start to want different things. They acquire responsibilities. It's no-one's fault - just the way things are sometimes. And now, he found himself to be the only human around more often than not.
It was a long time to stay competitive. That first world championship, so many years ago - the first of quite a few since then, as it happened - it was really just the end of the beginning. Years had passed before he'd even started thinking about the metrics by which one may be judged a "Master." And the face of the game had changed so much from when he'd first started playing that he barely recognized it anymore.
Most days, it didn't bother him. He'd known that he'd wanted this since he was ten years old. He'd made his living doing this, and a good one too - tournament prizes, promotions, the investments he'd made with all of that money on his old neighbor's advice - not to mention that a career spent backpacking across the world has a relatively low overhead.
This was a life that thousands would kill for. Most of them would just wash up by fifteen or so. He'd looked at the numbers, once: fewer than 1% of all competitive Trainers ever made it out of their first three years in the tournament circuit. The knowledge had floored him, given the relatively low barrier to entry on competitive training. But it made enough sense: life gets in the way. In the case of most people, it got in the way of idle childhood dreams of Mastery. But in Ash's case, Life and Mastery were just two words for the same thing. And he'd been able to back that up.
Most days, it didn't bother him. Most days, he felt incalculably alive, fulfilled, and happy to spend his life doing the thing he loved. Most days, he didn't feel tired, lonely, and out of touch.
Not today.
Today, he'd made the inadvisable choice to spend the afternoon at lunch with a Poketch Company rep at an expensive corporate restaurant in Jubilife City. Not that he hated steakhouse burgers on a company card - far from it - but this was a lunch he'd had many dozens of times before. And it always tasted the same.
"I'm getting that you don't feel too strongly about the cross-promotional potential that our new fitness app and your personal brand could bring us, Mr. Ketchum."
Ash caught himself staring into the old-fashioned the rep had ordered him. He'd immediately fed the cherry to Pikachu (now asleep on one of the empty chairs) and just watched the ice melt from there.
"I really don't," Ash said, "but I'll do the thing with the hat. You guys always love the thing with the hat."
He looked across at the rep - his name was either Joel or Josh, and at this point it was too late to ask him which. Josh was a pleasant-looking, razor-burned fellow in an expensive suit and a Voltorb-print tie. Ash didn't feel anything about anything as they talked.
"Yes, Mr. Ketchum," Joel said with an affected chuckle. "My son actually does that at home when he watches your matches on TV. He'll be ten in a few years and he's already knee-deep in all the analytics: he has a team of strong Pokemon all planned out, he's talking about typing, the way he'll train each specific Pokemon, all the math that goes into a matchup. He wants to be just like you!"
Ash's heart sank as he grappled with how much he hated hearing this. Not a word about the bond between a Trainer and his friends, the thrill of exploration, the joy of getting to know your Pokemon and seeing one another through the toughest times and battles. It all sounded so wrong, but he couldn't even be sure what was right. Was he just getting old and conservative? Or was it the children who were wrong? Whatever. It was time to wrap this up.
"Alright. Yeah. I'm in. Send everything to my lawyer. What are the broad strokes, again?"
"Nothing you haven't been through before. You'll shoot a television commercial, we'll do a photoshoot the same day, and you'll show up in the advertising push we do with the app's launch. Are you gonna need to get in shape for this? We've got people for that."
"The hell is that supposed to mean?"
Stunned silence. Ash let Josh think he'd bungled this for a moment and waited for it to be funny. It never happened. The restaurant felt smaller and colder than he'd remembered it being a second ago.
"Relax." Suddenly, he was angry for real now. Something buzzed in his chest, and his brain got hot. "My god, this can't be it. This can't be what being 'the very best' really is. I don't even like old-fashioneds. Hey, Pikachu."
The yellow rodent perked up its ear. The brandied cherry had been enough to make the old Pokemon sleepy. "Pi?"
"Let's get some air." He turned to the rep. "Josh. I mean, Joel."
"My name's Alan."
"Yeah. You can have the rest of my drink. I've had it with this place."
The rep said something as Ash left, but he could hardly be bothered. Seconds later, he was out the door and actively thankful for the sub-freezing Sinnoh air. He could think out here. Maybe. Honestly, that continued to be hard. But he still knew how to properly get out of there.
"Charizard!" Ash whipped the Pokeball up in the air, and watched the glow of red light give way to a shadow that darkened the street corner. There, twenty feet up and stretching his wings, was everything Ash still remembered about his love for this life. For a brief moment, he forgot what he was angry at.
The great beast bellowed in triumphant joy: Ash had not let him out in a while. He suspected it'd be a few minutes before he could get his Pokemon to come back down. That was just as well - he hadn't decided where they were going yet.
The Indigo Plateau, perhaps? It was quite a ways from Jubilife, but maybe it'd pay to seek advice from someone like Lance. He'd lost count of how many times he'd encountered the old dragon tamer now, either in tournaments or by happenstance. Maybe he'd understand the curiously bitter feeling Ash felt running through his heart. They'd traveled similar paths, after all.
No. No, maybe Alola. Seafolk Village. A few days of fishing might do him some good. He could look up Lana, even! She'd probably love to come along.
Wait. Not Lana. If he visited her, she'd ask questions. And if she asked questions, he'd probably answer them. And those answers would get back to Misty. No, bad plan. He wasn't ready for that phone call.
Ash went through another couple of ideas before arriving at Pallet Town and Mom. He'd needed to get his head back on straight plenty of times before: there'd been a few particularly brutal tournament defeats, the whole fallout from the Serena situation, Max's diagnosis. Pallet town was where that all got resolved.
"To be a master, huh?"
"Tell me about it," Ash sighed, before realizing that he was not, in fact, talking to himself.
He wheeled around to meet the familiar gaze of a tall blond man about ten years his senior: Volkner. The former gym leader was beginning to age - short gray whiskers dotted his stubble, and his tilted grin revealed the wrinkles that thirty years of Pokemon battling bring a person.
"I would," said Volker, "but you seem to have figured it out for yourself."
Ash looked back at Charizard - the fire lizard had found a low rooftop nearby to rest on, and was currently in the middle of cracking all his various joints. He noticed Ash - with Volkner - watching him and, getting the idea, gave him a permissive wave.
"Yeah, like you're in charge," Ash said before turning his attention back to his friend. They started walking. "It's great to see you, Volkner. How's retirement?"
"Over," said Volkner, kicking at some snow. He held eye contact with Ash for another moment before looking up at a streetlight. Around them, a few passers-by had made them both and were whispering to one another with excitement. "Again. You'd think upgrading Sinnoh's entire power network would be a job they'd let you get done with already, but Cynthia…well, she made me an offer I couldn't refuse."
Ash blinked.
"She threatened to murder you?"
"I–no." Volkner laughed, remembering who he was talking to. "No. Why would–no. She gave me one of these."
Volkner reached into his coat and pulled out a small, orange envelope. He held it out for Ash.
"You know, the last time someone invited me to a tournament like this, I died," Ash said, plucking the envelope from Volkner's hand. "Worse than died. They turned me to stone."
"Sure they did," said Volkner as he watched Ash open the envelope. "Didn't you tell me once that Latias - like, the Latias–"
"I said maybe she did," Ash said. "What's this about, anyway? Invitationals tend to be a little less, I dunno, analog? They tend to be a little less analog than this. Usually I get an email."
Not waiting for Volkner to answer, Ash tore the envelope open to reveal a simple white card, embossed with a stylized pokeball design and the letters "AK." He flipped it open, and Pikachu hopped up to his shoulder to see what could be written inside.
Ash Ketchum,
The game's changed, hasn't it? I know you've struggled to change along with it. We all have. I know you've been thinking about leaving it for good. They say you can't go home again, so why not try building something new?
Look for me on the final island. You might find what's been missing.
-R
Ash turned the card over, looking for more - nothing. Frowning, he tapped it against the back of his hand in thought for a moment before looking back at Volkner.
"What did yours say?"
"Some stuff I've never told anyone," Volkner answered, brow furrowed. He waved to a couple of kids who'd recognized him before turning his attention back to Ash. "Same with Cynthia. And Flint. I'm guessing yours had something similar."
"Maybe it did. Where did these come from, anyway?" As he asked, Ash reached up to give Pikachu a quick scritch under his chin. The old mouse had retired from battling a few years prior, but that didn't mean he was ever going to be done riding on Ash's shoulder. Or giving him an electric reality check every once in a while.
"According to Cynth, a whole stack of them were just sitting there on her piano's music stand at her beach house in Undella Town."
"Man, I've got to start keeping a permanent address," Ash moaned. "I was lucky this time. Do you know how many calls I get from my mom about mail she's 'accidentally' opened? She just sits there and reads it off to me. I had some blood work done earlier this year, and she spent fifteen minutes lecturing me on cholesterol."
Volkner made a muted popping noise with his lips, declining to comment any further. A moment passed, then another. Ash wanted to die.
"So, the thing that's been bothering us is that whoever sent this is talking about the final island," Volkner said, refocusing. "We're almost certain they're talking about the Sevii Islands."
Silence again, for another reason this time. Neither of them wanted to be the one who broke it.
"Volkner," Ash finally said, "there are no Sevii Islands anymore. We all did what we could back then, but–"
"Yeah," said Volkner. "We don't have to talk about that. Here's the thing, though: Cynth got a call from Lorelai - Lorelai got the same invitation. It didn't sit well with her."
"How could it? That was her home!" Ash said, eyes wide. "After Floe Island, Misty and I sat up with her for the night. That was-that was one of the longest nights of my entire life. I couldn't sleep for a week."
"She told Cynth that she was going to investigate," Volkner said, not eager to dwell. "That was two weeks ago. We haven't heard from her since."
Ash put both of his hands behind his head, letting his fingers run over the snaps in the back of his cap. Pikachu, now without any room to sit, jumped down to the sidewalk. He gave Ash a dirty look and kicked an empty soda can into the road.
This failed to distract Ash from his thoughts. It had been a while since his last tragedy, but not so long that he was dying - or even ready - for a new one. It also didn't sit well with him that Lorelai - one of the world's strongest trainers - was missing. He could count the things capable of laying low a member of the Elite Four on one hand, and he hated each one more than the last. And the invitation–that settled it.
"I'm going home," he finally said. "There's a few questions I need to answer before I get involved with whatever this ends up being."
"I respect that," said Volkner. "But you can't take too long. I don't know how many of those invitations have gone out yet, but a few of us who've received them are going to meet up in Vermillion City in three days."
"Three days," Ash repeated, more to himself than anyone else. "I'll be there. Charizard!"
From a few blocks away, they both heard the great fire lizard bellow with excitement. In seconds, he was upon them, the snow he'd kicked up with the beating of his wings shimmering in the fading afternoon sun. He suspended himself about thirty feet above them for a few seconds before touching down on the street. A few cars screeched to a halt behind him - he looked back at them, daring them to honk. They didn't.
"We're going home," Ash said as he leapt on the beast's back. "No scenic routes this time. Let's get there as fast as we can without killing me."
Charizard snorted his approval, accepting Ash's challenge as Pikachu leapt up to join him inside his coat.
"Put your strongest team together!" Volkner shouted as Charizard began to beat his wings for takeoff. "One for the ages!"
Ash was already two blocks gone by the time Volkner finished.