Ash awoke slowly to a cacophony of sound, his head feeling as though it had swollen to twice its normal size and throbbing painfully. He barely managed to open his eyes before he realised they were staring straight at the sun, and he could almost feel his retinas burning as he hastily rolled over—
"What?" grumbled Ash groggily, giving his eyes a few moments to adjust. Things remained blurry for quite a while, and he had to blink rapidly to be able to get a clear view of what was in front of him. When he did, though, he realised that he was lying comfortably in a large bed, still fully clothed in his usual attire.
And still, the unbearable noise continued.
'What the heck is that sound?' Ash thought crankily, slamming his hands down over his ears and trying to slip back into the sweet embrace of slumber, jamming his eyes shut. His hopes were short-lived, though, as a pair of strong hands gripped him by the shoulders and pulled him into an upright sitting position, gently shaking him. Doing his best to keep his head from lolling back and forward, Ash opened his eyes a fraction, and what he saw almost made him fall out of bed.
"Argh, a burglar!" he screamed, flailing his hands about like a madman, but the intruder's hands stayed firmly against his shoulders, preventing him from moving about too much.
"What are you—talking about, Ash…?" growled a male voice, struggling with the effort of keeping Ash in check.
Ash immediately recognised the voice, but it only furthered his confusion. "Brock…?" he gasped, lowering his arms to his sides, and he suddenly realised that the annoying sound had been Brock speaking to him. "What… what's going on?" he asked slowly, doing his best to ignore his headache. "Wh-where am I…?"
Although he couldn't see it clearly, his companion gave him a puzzled look. "Where are you?" Brock mimicked. "You're in your hotel room, obviously…!"
"My… hotel room?" Ash wheezed, looking at his surroundings. The bedroom was well-furnished; the bed on which he was lying had a high wooden headboard decorated with a Poké Ball carving, and a wide dressing table sat on the other side of the room, topped by a large mirror, which showed Ash a startling reflection.
Gingerly shuffling out from underneath the covers, Ash stepped in front of the mirror. "Holy crap!" he shouted, the face in the mirror staring back at him with bloodshot eyes and a sheen of paled skin. "What happened to me…?" he groaned, rubbing his hands furiously over his face in a vain attempt to clean it.
"I don't know," said Brock unhelpfully, shuffling alongside Ash and putting a hand on his shoulder. "I only just got here and found you like this. Wait—" he looked over to his friend with some concern, "you mean you can't remember what you did last night?"
Still focused on his decrepit appearance, Ash only half-registered the question as he licked his hand and tried to smooth some overly-rebellious patches of black hair with it. "Uh, yeah, of course I remember," he replied vacantly, now checking the inside of his eyelids.
"Okay then, run through what happened after we split off yesterday evening," Brock instructed, propping himself down on the edge of the bed and folding his arms.
"Umm… well," Ash began, turning away from the mirror; he was satisfied he couldn't make himself look any more acceptable. "Let's see, uh… after I said goodbye to you, I went straight here and met my new roommates. They're pretty nice—"
"Roommates?"
"Oh, yeah," he said brightly. "Anyone who's competing in the Championships shares their apartment with two other Trainers. Something about making new friends, I think… anyway, my roommates are these guys called Leoric and Gin. Wait—" he leaned over to peek past the bedroom door, and saw a door hanging ajar across the hallway, "oh, right, they probably went off somewhere—so, yeah, Leoric and Gin, they're pretty nice guys. Gin's a lot older than Leoric and me, though," he explained.
Brock opened his mouth to speak, but Ash took a seat next to him and continued recounting the previous evening's events. "So, we got acquainted with each other over some of this tropical punch that Gin bought at the markets yesterday – it tasted so nice, too – and then… there was something about a party… umm—" he rubbed his head and shut his eyes, trying to stimulate his memory, "and… we left."
"You left?" repeated Brock, raising an eyebrow at his friend. "Then… how'd you get back here?"
"I—" Ash hesitated, casting his gaze away. He couldn't remember how he made it back to the hotel. The last thing that was clear in his memory was walking through the street as he tried to keep up with Gin and Leoric; everything after that was a dark haze. "I have no idea…!" he exclaimed. Suddenly, he bolted upright, and then clutched at his head as he felt the blood rushing into it. "Wait, there was something—!"
"Whoa, take it easy, Ash," said Brock sternly. "If you can't remember, you shouldn't try and pressure yourself into it. You should just put it behind you for now and focus on what's in front of you, okay?" he advised, and Ash slowly nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, you're right," he replied, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Alright! Time to get out there and get back in the game!" he cheered, punching the air. Looking around, he spotted his cap hanging from a bedpost, so he snatched it up and jammed it down over his unruly hair, heading for the door. As he put his hand on the doorframe, however, he stopped and turned back. "Wait… where's Pikachu?"
"Oh, he's… having a bite to eat in the kitchen," said Brock cautiously. "He looked hungry, so I whipped something up for him."
"Good thinking," Ash smiled. "You need a hearty breakfast behind you if you're about to win your first battle of the Championships!" With that, he bolted around the corner and down the hallway, skidding over the smooth wooden floorboards in his socks and coming to a gentle stop in front of the kitchen's doorframe.
Pikachu, who had been nibbling away at a rather tasty watercress sandwich on the kitchen counter, gleefully popped his head up and bounded over, leaping up onto Ash's shoulder and licking his check affectionately. "Pii pika!" he peeped.
"Well, good morning to you too," Ash chuckled, petting Pikachu on the head. Pikachu, though, ducked under his hand and looked at him oddly. "What?"
"Ash!" exclaimed Brock, racing down the hallway. Seeing Ash, he tried to stop, but his shoes slid on the floorboards, and he was sent crashing into him, the pair falling to the ground in a tangled mess. Pikachu managed to jump off just in time, and looked down at them pityingly from the safety of the kitchen counter as they painfully separated themselves.
"Nice… Double-Edge attack, Brock…" Ash moaned, pulling himself up off the ground.
"Sorry…" Brock said, shaking the stars out of his eyes. "Ash, there's something I have to tell you—"
"Can it wait until afterward?" Ash asked, a little impatiently as he ran over to Pikachu's sandwich and tore out a huge chunk, popping it into his mouth despite the latter's protests. "I've got to get ready for the opening ceremony, and then I need to prepare my strategy for the first battle this afternoon!" he explained through a mouthful of watercress.
Brock stood in the doorway, purposely looking anywhere but at his companion. "That's… kind of what I need to talk to you about," he muttered quietly. "You, uh, well—you overslept."
Brock's words didn't sink in for a while; when they did, Ash almost sprayed the contents of his sandwich over the kitchen counter. Coughing violently before finally forcing the food down his throat, Ash spun to face Pikachu, who confirmed the horrifying news with a sombre nod. "I overslept?" he echoed, feeling the ground fall away beneath him. "How—what time is it now, then?"
"Oh, it's only noon!" Brock said hastily, forcing a smile onto his face. "So you haven't missed your batt—" he trailed off as he saw Ash's expression – he looked as though he'd just been shot.
"Only noon?" he roared, barging past Brock and lunging for the TV remote lying placidly on the coffee table. Mashing the power button with his finger, he rapidly flicked through the channels until he found the one he was looking for.
An unimaginably large crowd stood cheering in the stands of the World's Peak Stadium; children, adults, people of every colour standing side-by-side as they hailed the competitors slowly marching onto the dusty battlefield in the stadium's centre. Manning the stands were a multitude of vendors, selling all manner of merchandise – every few rows, someone in a brightly-coloured vest was handing out Pokémon hats, commemorative show-bags and the like. Even more employees supplied the masses with food and drink, being swamped with money as they tried to hand out enough hotdogs, sweets and cola to accommodate everyone.
Just a few minutes earlier, the crowd had been regaled with the last of many fantastic performances given by the groups hired for the opening entertainment. Gasping in amazement, the crowd had applauded intricate dance routines; formations of percussionists, beating out harmonious rhythms; and a legion of Dragon-type Pokémon breathing rainbow-coloured flames into the sky, while a multitude of bright fireworks exploded above the stadium's rim. The smell of copper and magnesium was still drifting down onto the field as it gradually filled with Trainers, striding onto the field in rows of four and waving to their fans, who responded with cries of adulation.
High in the stands, with a perfect view of proceedings from an executive skybox, Iato sipped a glass of his favourite champagne and crossed his legs, steely eyes scanning the crowd for any Trainers of interest. "I certainly hope this year gives us some colourful personalities," he said wistfully, tilting his head to look at four opulently dressed men seated next to him.
The one sitting furthest away from him gave a derisive laugh, leaning back in his comfortable armchair, folding his hands across an ample gut. "The only colour I want to see out of these pack rats is green. I've placed some lucrative bets on my favourites, and I'll be very surprised if something prevents them from making me a lot of money… if you know what I mean," he added slyly, slicing the back of his thumb across his thick neck.
"How 'savings and trust' of you, Simon," Iato countered. "Personally, I'm—oh, thank you—" he took a napkin from the waiter who offered it to him, placing it on his lap, "I'm more interested in the sport of it. A Pokémon battle isn't about money; it's about gladiatorial spirit, and that old-fashioned thirst for victory that accompanies it."
"There's a reason the words 'old-fashioned' and 'nonsense' are used together, Iato," Simon hissed, his fingers digging into the chair's dark leather. "Camaraderie and all that anthropic bullshit belong in the past where they were invented. The only thing that matters here in the present is the bottom line. Honestly, you're the youngest one in this room, but it's like your head is permanently stuck in the Dark Ages," he added bitingly, but Iato took the criticism with a friendly chortle.
As more Trainers filed in through the tunnel that led into the arena, Iato suddenly leaned forwards in his chair, something catching his eye. "Ah, there we are…" he whispered with a smile. "Some of my favourite little pikelets just came into the picture…"
Down on the battlefield, the pikelet formerly known as Leoric Reiger stepped out into the sunlight, shielding his eyes with one hand and waving jubilantly toward the crowd with the other. The spectators seemed to be cheering as loudly as they had been before, and he allowed himself to think that it was because they'd just seen him walk out, but a movement out of the corner of his eye saw the volume turn up significantly.
"Come on, man, why you gotta upstage me?" he whined, looking over to Ari, who was walking next to him, and had just raised his hand to acknowledge the crowd.
"Maybe if you didn't make it so easy," Ari snickered, taking a quick step away to dodge the playful jab that Leoric shot his way. "Don't be such a baby. Even if those cheers were for me, which they probably aren't, it'd only be because they recognise me from last year," he reasoned.
Leoric snorted. "Listen to this guy, huh," he grunted to the Trainer on his other side. "Thinks they're not cheering for him…"
"They could be cheering for me," Gin replied smartly, blowing kisses to a group of young women near the front row. "After all, this is my fifth tournament."
"Fifth?" screeched Leoric, flabbergasted. "How's an old geezer like you make it to five World Championships?"
"Well, not being a whiny little smartass is probably one of the more important steps," Gin answered, grinning cheekily as he blew another kiss, this time to a woman halfway up the stands who held a sign bearing his name. The woman instantly went into a fit of excited shrieking, jumping up and down on the spot, much to the annoyance of her two young sons, who tried their best to make it seem like they weren't associated with her.
Running out of room to march, the trio came to a stop behind another row of four Trainers. As the fans welcomed in another quartet of competitors, Ari shifted about uncomfortably on the spot, before leaning over to tap Leoric on the shoulder.
"What?"
"Where's that guy you brought along to the party you invited me to last night?" Ari asked, pointing a finger past Gin to the empty space that should have been occupied by another Trainer. "I thought you said he was yours and Gin's roommate or something."
"Yeah, but you saw what happened to him last night…" Leoric reminded him, and Ari nodded sedately. "Gin and I thought about waking him up when we were leaving to come here, but we figured he'd appreciate it more if he slept off the hangover."
Ari pondered his friend's logic, but ultimately shook his head. "Even so, I don't think he'd want to miss this. I mean, would you—" he prodded a finger against Leoric's chest, "want me to let you sleep through something as cool as this?"
He raised a sweeping hand towards the open roof of the stadium, and Leoric twisted his mouth to one side.
"Oh, I suppose you're right," he said, resigned. "But I can't exactly wake him up from all the way over here, can I? And—" he shook his sleeve and showed Ari the time on his watch, "I don't think it would make much difference – it took us long enough to get here, and from what Ash told me yesterday, he doesn't really know his way around this island yet."
This time, it was Gin's turn to lean over and tap Leoric's shoulder. "I think I can help you with that," he said confidently, unclipping a green Poké Ball from the inside of his jacket and holding it out in his hand. "Berecher, awaken," he called out, and the ball split open with a flash of white light.
"I can't believe this!" Ash shouted indignantly, stamping his foot against the ground. Blaring away on the television screen in front of him was live footage of the opening ceremony of the Championships, the network channel's commentators providing background information about the Trainers as they walked out on the field. "That could be me that those guys are telling everyone about…!"
"Just calm down, Ash," Brock advised, gesturing similarly with his hands but maintaining what he felt was a safe distance. "I know it's unfortunate that you're not there right now, but—try to think of the positives."
Ash stared at him in quite a deranged fashion. "Positives?" he repeated, ignoring the small white flash of a camera on the television. "I can't remember where I was last night, or what I did then, and I find out that I overslept, so now I'm missing the opening ceremonies! Where's the posit—ives… in…"
He trailed off, and Brock darted towards him with alarm, half-expecting Ash to suddenly collapse from some unknown ailment, but his worries subsided a little when he noticed that Ash was looking at something over his left shoulder. Warily turning around, Brock, too, was left dumbstruck when he saw a small machine floating in front of him, a large metal ball with magnets and screws jutting out from it.
"Wait…" said Brock to himself, rubbing his eyes. "That's not just a machine, that's a Magnemite…!"
"Mag…" buzzed the Pokémon, hovering quietly in place.
Wondering what on earth a Steel-type like Magnemite would be doing in Ash's hotel room, Brock rounded on the latter, giving him a look that clearly demanded an explanation. Ash, though, seemed just as clueless as to its reason for appearing in the room so suddenly. To add to the confusion, the telephone in the kitchen rang a moment later; its sharp, incessant tone seemed to agitate the Magnemite, which started emitting sparks and circling around a dismayed Brock, who instinctively threw his hands up to protect his head.
"I'll get it," announced Ash grumpily, trudging over and picking up the receiver. "Hello?"
"Ash, is that you?" asked a familiar voice on the line.
Ash's eyes widened with surprise. "Gin?"
"Oh, so it is you!" said Gin happily. "Yeah, it's Ash," he added, but he seemed to be talking to someone else on his end of the phone call. "Glad to hear you're finally up and about! You sound like you're in better condition than when we found you last night, let me tell you."
"Wait, you know—?"
"I'm gonna keep things short for the moment," Gin interjected, cutting him off. "You see that Magnemite in the living room?"
Overlooking how Gin could possibly know something as absurd as that, Ash took a deep breath to calm his jangled nerves. "Yeah, I see it."
"Yeah, he sees it. I told you it'd work," Gin told his unheard accomplices. "Okay now. Ash, that Magnemite is mine. Its name is Berecher, and it can Teleport you and your Pikachu down to the stadium, so you can join me, Leoric, and Arty—"
"Ari!" came Ari's voice through the receiver, and Ash deduced who Gin had been conversing with.
"—yeah, whatever!—and Ari, for—well, what's left of the opening ceremony," Gin continued, clearly irritated at being interrupted. "Once you've got yourself looking presentable, just put your hand on Berecher and say 'go back', and it should bring you back here to World's Peak."
"Umm, sure thing!" said Ash. "Hand on the Magnemite, tell it to go back," he added, making sure he understood the instructions properly.
Gin's laughter came through the line. "That's the one! Alright, see you down here in a minute or two," he said brightly, and the call ended.
As he placed the phone back on its hook, Ash felt like clicking his heels together; he couldn't believe his good luck. Before Brock could even open his mouth to ask what the call had been about, he was sprinting down the hallway and sliding into his bedroom, thrusting his feet into the shoes placed neatly beside his door and snatching up his rucksack. His headache utterly forgotten, he ran into the kitchen and clipped the Poké Balls he'd left in the china bowl the night before to his belt.
By this time, Brock had managed to regain control of his senses and blocked his way out of the kitchen for the second time in five minutes. "Whoa!" he cried, throwing his arms out in front of him to stop Ash from sending them into the ground again. "What's the hurry, Ash?"
"That Magnemite belongs to my roommate!" Ash told him excitedly, looping the bag over his shoulders. "He's going to use its Teleport to send me over to the stadium!"
"A Magnemite that knows Teleport?" Brock wondered aloud. "That's exceedingly rare…"
Ash took Brock's momentary lapse in focus to sneak under his arm and out into the lounge room. "Pikachu!" he called out, and the Electric-type sprang up to sit on his shoulder, having heard every word with his keen ears. "Okay, Magnemite…!" He placed his hand firmly upon the Pokémon's body, and its visible eye crinkled with happiness. "Go back!"
"Mag—magnemite—magne-magne-magne—!"
The world around Ash began to spin; first, slowly one way, and then it rapidly changed direction and became nothing but a bright blur. Gasping in awe at the sight, Ash faltered a little when he felt his feet leaving the ground, but he found safety in Berecher's continuous buzzing, and a few seconds later they became enveloped in a bright flash of light.
As the light faded away, Ash found the scene around him completely different. The quaint and cosy feel of the hotel apartment had instantly given way to the ear-splitting and delighted screams of waves upon waves of spectators, all cheering for their favourite competitors. The sun was blazing brightly in the sky directly overhead, and the heat washed over Ash like the downy blanket back in his bedroom. Closing his eyes and tilting his head upward, he took a deep breath of fresh air.
This was what he wanted to come to the ceremony for; not the entertainment, not the empty speeches by the organisers – although he certainly enjoyed them both – no, it was for the thrill of being on show for the whole world to see, so he could prove the talents of he and his Pokémon.
"Glad you decided to show up," Leoric snickered, digging an elbow into Ash's ribs. Gin nodded and smiled in his direction, preoccupied with thanking his Pokémon for its assistance before returning it covertly to its Poké Ball.
"I'm pretty glad, too," Ash chuckled, rubbing the back of his head while Pikachu greeted his Trainer's roommates.
Ari, unlike the other two, merely glanced at the new arrivals in acknowledgement, his attention seemingly elsewhere. "Uh, guys," he said, sounding a little flustered, but his companions took little notice as they turned towards him. "I'm just gonna… head over this way. I just saw someone I recognise from last night, 'kay?"
"Hey, speaking of last night…!" Ash piped up, as Ari drifted away. "What the heck exactly happened? The last thing I remember was trying to make sure you two didn't lose me in the streets!"
Leoric and Gin exchanged glances before bursting into laughter, despite the appalled expression on Ash's face. Wiping away a tear, Leoric threw an arm around the latter's shoulder and waved his free hand in front of the pair of them. "Let me tell you a tale, Ash…" he said dramatically, although he was restraining another bout of giggles, "and trust me, you're gonna laugh when you hear this…!"
"Oh, now there's something," grunted one of the businessmen in the skybox, leaning forward in his chair. The others, who had been absorbed in conversation and other trivialities, all looked around to find him pointing at something down on the battlefield. "Who's that black-haired kid? I didn't see him come through the tunnel."
"Which one, Reeve?" Simon asked, squinting to try and get a better glimpse. "The one with the ridiculous outfit, the one with the gigantic glasses, or the one with the Pikachu on its back?"
The mention of a Pikachu brought Iato forward in his chair; now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen Ash walk onto the battlefield, something he'd found quite disappointing at the time. "A Pikachu, you say?"
Reeve let out a harsh, grating cackle. "Yeah, fancy that! A rat carrying a rat!" he sneered.
'Well, it seems that Gin and the pikelets are getting quite chummy,' Iato thought merrily, framing his cheek with a finger as he watched the three roommates talking down on the stadium floor. "Splendid," he muttered, the corners of his mouth curling upward as a hand snaked towards his cell phone. "Just… splendid."
...Which brings us to the end of chapter five. Dun dun dun, indeed. I feel like the fifth chapter in any story is a milestone, since it's like ten divided by two, so you're halfway towards double digits. Is five chapters a milestone for you guys?
While providing an answer for the above question, why not ask me a question of your own in a brand-new, never-before-seen review? They're environmentally-friendly, I swear. No animals were harmed during their construction, either. Well, no animals that will be missed, at any rate... to be fair, that penguin had it coming, and Billy has a diverse variety of prey; he can't just keep eating you guys whenever you get lazy, you know.
Many thanks to the reviewers; past, present, or future, they're all appreciated very much. Time for an answer, too: for "CrimsonAccent", yes, I stick to the yearly-journey theory, so I like to put Ash at around 15 for the setting of this story.
I've got some good news, though... Chapter 6, "Gear One", kickstarts the tournament proper, with the beginning of Ash's first battle! Awwwright, we've got a battle chapter coming up, amirite? But seriously, I'm pretty stoked to be getting back to my forte, and you'll see the fruits of that particular labour when it's released tomorrow. Fingers crossed you're as happy with it as I am!
So, until next time... Be sure to review and, if Kanye will let me finish this,
Happy birthday, Diddy!