"You hold onto friends by keeping your heart a little softer than your head."

March, 1964…

"…And as we go forward in this world, it is without question that we will continue to discover new species of Pokémon. The door will never close on what we can learn from them and what they can teach us. We must strive to share the world together, to interact in harmony for our mutual benefit. I urge everyone out there watching and listening to this talk to stop and take a step back, to think critically about how we really interact with Pokémon and how we could and maybe should be interacting with them. You don't have to be a researcher like me, devoting your life to such an endeavor, but everyone can make a difference." He pauses to let that sink in with some dramatic flair. "Thank you, and goodnight."

As the crowd starts to go wild with applause and cheers, the budding professor Samuel collects his notes, puts them into his folder, and makes his way from the podium on the stage. His talk went much better than he planned, but he is still fighting back some nerves from the experience. It is not the first time he has spoken in front of a group- far from it, actually. As part of his PhD track, he has had to guest lecture on several occasions. In those instances, however, the crowd was much smaller. Undergraduate courses can range up to one hundred individuals, but tonight, he was speaking to a sold-out crowd of over five-hundred. He was lucky to be able to find last minute tickets for his two friends, who kept swearing they would purchase them themselves but also kept forgetting. It kind of annoyed him though he kept it to himself. He knows the newly married couple is dealing with a lot right now, but still. They've always been there for each other since they became a trio last year, and he and Marcellus were friends for a year before that.

As he descends the stairs, it is them he is seeking out. Even if he was a little angry, he still values their feedback and encouragement. They aren't hard to locate because, true to form, Minerva dragged Marcellus through the masses right up to the front, not caring who she had to shove out of their way to get there. As he approaches, his pace slows just a little. Although she hates public displays of anything, Marcellus has still managed to hold onto her hand. Sam has never been envious of the man because they're friends and because you cannot help who you have feelings for. Still, sometimes, it does get to him. Marcellus must know because he lets her go. Sam has never said anything to either of them, but he has a suspicion that Marcellus figured it out.

"Great talk, Sammy," he says as the researcher finally reaches the pair. He claps him on the shoulder a little too hard. Along with being preoccupied with his thoughts, this causes him to drop his papers on the ground. Marcellus immediately feels bad, but he doesn't get a chance to say or do anything.

"Good job, idiot." She kneels down to help him collect his work while Marcellus stands and watches. Because she doesn't know what order they go in, she simply stacks them all the same way so he can easily figure it out later. When she hands them over, he takes them without meeting her eyes.

"Thanks," he says simply as he takes them and stacks them with the other half of the pile. Even though he probably isn't even doing it, Sam feels Marcellus' gaze burning into the top of his head. He scolds himself for being ridiculous.

"It was a good talk, Sam." That draws him back yet again, and he finally does look at her. She gives out compliments very rarely, but he knows she is being sincere. And with that, he feels like they are a trio again.

"I didn't bore you guys to death?" he asks with a small smirk. She returns it as they stand back up.

"It was a little dry in the middle. Marcellus was starting to zone out."

"I was not," he defends. Sam laughs at him.

"Be honest, I can take it. Did I go on for too long about the dual nature of human/Pokémon relationships?"

"I think you didn't go on long enough," a female voice suddenly says from behind him. Apparently someone else has decided to enter their conversation, he thinks as he turns around.

He knew there was the possibility of mingling in the crowd after he was done, but he was kind of hoping he wouldn't have to. The way the people started to disperse also fed into that hope. Then again, he never thought a striking young woman with dark green hair and piercing blue eyes would come up to him. His father brought him up with the utmost respect for women, but he cannot help himself from staring. Some guys would be intimidated by a woman taller than them, but Sam already decides that's something else he likes about her. Marcellus notices and decides to tease him later.

If the woman notices, she doesn't say anything or act on it. She speaks again.

"I'm studying Pokémon biology myself, but I do find your area of expertise very interesting as well." Sam's free left hand finds its way to the back of his head, and he laughs nervously.

"Thank you. It's fascinated me ever since I was a boy. Back then, I used to also like drawing the Pokémon I was observing. I guess you could say they've always been a part of me, and I want to know what that means for other people as well."

"Do you still draw?"

"No, I gave it up when I came here six years ago. I didn't have the time anymore."

"You must have been awfully young."

"Sammy here's a genius," Marcellus cuts in. "He entered Celadon U at age fifteen and is already two years into his doctorate. And that's after he crammed his Bachelors into three years and Masters into one. You really have to admire the man. I barely made the cut as a late entrant and a transfer at that." With each boast, Sam continues to get a little more embarrassed. Marcellus always talks him up this way to new people, and it always bothers him.

"Knock it off," Minerva finally cuts him off, coming to Sam's rescue. "You know he's not a boastful fool like you are." Marcellus feigns emotional injury, but she ignores him. Wanting to change the subject, Sam realizes he has not introduced himself or his friends and that he doesn't even know her name.

"So anyway," he finally cuts in. "I don't think any of us have been properly introduced."

"Oh, you're right. Sorry. It's just when it comes to Pokémon sometimes I get carried away. My name is Robin Makibi." She extends her hand to him.

"I'm sure you heard me say it up there, but I'm Samuel Oak." He reaches out and shakes her hand. When they break, he gestures towards his friends. "This is Marcellus Hakubi. He's here from Sinnoh studying business and trying to 'be his own man', as he terms it." Marcellus ignores the comment and simply smiles and says a hello. "And last but definitely not least, this is Minerva Sakaki. Don't call her anything else, or she'll fight you."

"Don't remind me," Marcellus jokes, remembering the first time he tried using his pet name for her (all he did was shorten it to Minnie, but it did not go over well). "She wouldn't even take my last name."

"You two are married?" Robin asks to confirm what he's implying.

"Yep. We're also having a baby. That's kind of what pushed us into tying the knot so quick."

"Marcellus," she scolds him with her fist to his shoulder.

"What? People are going to figure it out anyway when our anniversary is only six months before the kid's birthday." Even though he's right, it does not lessen her annoyance.

"Well, you two certainly have a hard road ahead." Marcellus' expression softens at that, and he looks to his wife of one month.

"I know," he says more to her than Robin. "But it's gonna be great." To an outsider, it looks like she has a non-expression to what he said, but Marcellus can read her better. Despite it being unexpected, both are actually happy and looking forward to being parents.

"I have an idea," Sam says, again steering the conversation in a different direction. (Marcellus isn't the only one who can read her non-expression.) "Why don't we all grab dinner and you can praise me some more?" Marcellus laughs and turns back to his best friend.

"And you said he was modest," he says as he slings an arm around over his wife's shoulders. She actually lets him this time.

"That does sound nice," Robin agrees. Sam noticeably perks up and starts naming off suggestions for where they can go.

As the foursome starts to walk off, they blend into the other university students off chasing their own dreams or at least this night's thrill, whatever that may be. For the first time in a long while, Sam isn't weighted down by his unspoken feelings and thoughts and is instead looking forward to getting to know this new person. It's a start, at least.

After being rudely awakened in his cell, the Pokémon professor is dragged away, leaving Max (Ash?) alone. He does not dare protest, wondering what that woman wants now. Why would she take him, of all people? He retired from most of his studies three years ago and focuses on new trainers and caring for their Pokémon. Even back then, he was hardly profitable. If anyone is doing anything of value, it is his grandson. That makes him concerned for the boy's safety suddenly. Maybe she did not plan on having him captured, but she was never one to waste an opportunity. 'How did things come to be this way?' he thinks as they enter an elevator.

Samuel doesn't bother counting how many floors up they go. It wouldn't make a difference. He's a prisoner and will be until she lets him go, if she lets him go. And to think, the way he used to feel about her when they were still pretty much kids. How close they were as friends. They may have been in college together, but they all had a lot of growing up to do.

His thoughts return to his grandson. He, too, has much growing up to do. He also has unrequited feelings for someone whom Samuel is sure will never reciprocate. That is what Oak men do, after all. He deeply loved his wife, of course, but she was the second one. His son suffered the same way, ending up with that woman who cared more about herself than her son and husband. Samuel raised Gary from a young age as a result so he knows what those looks and arguments mean in relation to a certain water-type gym leader. The cycle continues.

When the elevator stops, he is once again yanked along down a corridor decorated more like an office space. She always did have a knack for hiding in plain sight. At one door in particular, they stop. He knocks twice and waits for no answer before opening it.

"I brought him for you, Madame." She doesn't look up from her desk, where some papers have her complete attention.

"Thank you. Now leave." He salutes and does as ordered, shutting the door on the way out.

Unsure of what to do, Samuel stands there and watches her, remembering the last time they were in the same room together…

February, 1986…

"So what do you say, Sammy? Will you take the money?" A younger Samuel looks away from the woman with dark purple hair, from the eyes that used to make him melt in place. Long ago, he would give in to those eyes because his heart had no choice. Now, as he thinks about his former student and her yet-to-be-born son, his head has no choice. They need all of the help they can get the same as his ailing lab does. He wills himself to meet her gaze, and their eyes lock for the first time since they were in school together. She knows his answer. A slow smirk crosses her face.

From that day on, his former student had no money worries as she remained obliviously unaware of the true source of the income used to help restart her mother's business. Samuel, however, was never able to shake the feeling that for all of the good his research was doing, his wife was looking down at him and shaking her head for aligning himself with not only his messy past but organized crime. His work went on unhindered, and eventually his grandson loved the lab to death just as Ash did.

Still, behind each smile and joke was guilt and the fear that it would someday come back to hurt not just him but his family and the two he adopted into his group of loved ones. He would carry that with him when his son and daughter-in-law moved away, dumping their son on his grandfather. He even carried it through the day Ash chose Pikachu, hoping that the boy would go out and make his own way in the world, never knowing of his true parentage. Sadly that hope would be dashed not yet two years from that day.

"A penny for your thoughts, Oak?" she suddenly says, snapping him back to reality.

"I would have thought your price would be higher." She actually does smirk at that.

"Aren't you the clever one. I see some of Robin's snark must have rubbed off on you."

"What do you want, Minerva?" he finally asks, getting annoyed. Having not been called that in so long, she pauses for a second. It sounds so strange to her, just hearing her own name. She brushes it off and finally looks up.

"Take a seat, and I'll tell you." He comes closer and does as asked.

"Why do you have Ash? You promised on that day you'd never interfere with his life."

"That was before my idiot son had his worthless scientists use their so-called experimental brainwashing technology on the boy." Samuel, though shocked to hear the truth, plays it cool. It makes sense, though, given the boy's adamant claims to be named Max and how he did not recognize the professor.

"How do you know that?"

"I never trusted the brat to actually run Team Rocket efficiently."

"So you've been spying on him all these years."

"You could call it that. I prefer to think of it as protecting my investments."

"So what do you want with Ash? Is he another investment?"

"Actually, yes, he is."

"What do you plan on doing with him?"

"Nothing as bad as what Brat Boy has done."

Though Samuel lost contact with her before she began referring to Giovanni in such a manner, he knows she is meaning her only son. Then he thinks about Giovanni's son, who went missing five years ago, who has been under their noses the whole time. His friends and family meanwhile have been left to mourn and wonder what happened, all the while Ash kept living a new life.

"So you plan on undoing his memory loss?"

"Yes, but it must be done carefully. It can't happen overnight."

"It might damage his memories altogether," he concludes.

"Which would be yet another failure for Brat Boy," she confirms.

Silence follows, and he watches her pour some water into a glass. She shoves it towards him, but he reminds her of his cuffs, which have left his hands bound behind his back. Because she can do something about it, she opens her drawer and pulls out a key. When she moves to unlock his restraints, he questions why she would bother. It doesn't matter to her, though. What's he going to do, run away? Try and take down her organization alone? His better days are long past. When she returns to her side of the desk, she drops the cuffs down and pours some water for herself. Normally she would be celebrating success, but until Ash is brought back to the surface, she needs to keep a clear head. Samuel finally takes a drink having been parched since they were captured. He quickly downs it all, and she refills it without asking if he wants more or not.

"You need to tell his mother," Samuel starts again. Disdain flickers across her face just long enough for him to notice. He knows she never approved of her son dating his student, but he doesn't know just how deep those feelings run.

"I'll fill her in when I'm good and ready." He doesn't like that answer.

"She's been mourning him for five years, Minerva. We all have."

"Then maybe she shouldn't have gotten tangled up in Rocket business and the Sakaki family." He knows exactly what she means by 'tangled up', but she is a hypocrite.

"You mean like you shouldn't have gotten tangled up with Marcellus? That is why you married so quickly, to avoid the shame for your and his families."

"You know my parents couldn't care less that it was out of wedlock. They were just happy I landed someone with as much power and money as he had."

"So it was never about love?" He watches her expression, looking for any sign of the person he remembers. That woman died long ago. He knows that, even though the fool probably always hoped his friend would return. His romantic feelings were never mutual on her end, but she did care about him, back in those days. She'll grant him a short glimpse then.

"Maybe in the beginning. But love is for the weak. At least I managed to pass that down to my idiot son." She finishes her own glass of water, and he takes another sip from his.

"You don't think your son loves Ash?"

"I'm sure he does in his own, twisted way. That's exactly why I'm expecting him to come as early as tomorrow."

"How do you know that?"

"My agents have been keeping tabs on my dear ex-husband. I know his new woman has been spying on my son and your former student for years, so I've been keeping tabs on him. He went to Pallet, no doubt to tell her everything. I was hoping I would never see her again, but I'm afraid I just might have to." He suddenly becomes protective.

"Don't you dare hurt her."

"Like I would waste my time. If I'd wanted to do anything, I would have done it long ago, especially when I realized she was having brat boy's brat. Like the family needed another drain on its resources. Children can be so expensive, can't they?"

"So then why do you want Ash?" he repeats his question from earlier.

"Now that, dear Samuel, is a question for another time." She reaches over and takes his water glass, further signaling to him that their conversation is done. He expects her to slap the cuffs back on, but she doesn't make a move to do so. "You may have free reign over most of the place. I've taken the liberty of securing anything you don't need to peak at. I also have furnished you a temporary place to stay. I would get some sleep if I were you. You look like hell." His fists clench, but he holds his tongue. "I've already instructed my agents of where you are not allowed. Ask the one guarding my door to escort you to your room. I'll see you in the morning for breakfast."

May 9, 1964…

Sam stares ahead at the road somewhat idly as he drives himself and Minerva back to her hometown. Driving was never his favorite thing to do in the world, and the route there is nothing out of the ordinary. He could have taken the way that takes them by Saffron (he'd been wanting to check out the latest developments of Silph Co. or at least drive by the building like a fanboy). That would have taken longer, however, which is not ideal under the circumstances that have him heading towards Cerulean.

He doesn't mind the appointed task, however, despite his lack of enthusiasm for the first part of it. In fact, he was the one who volunteered. After her mother's late call the night previous asking her to come home, he turned out to be the only one free to accompany her. Marcellus had missed too much school already and would have potentially been up for dismissal if he took off again. He'd been running himself ragged at the coffee house he worked at trying to make as much money as he could, which would sometimes mean he ditched classes. Further, his co-worker Lauren kept leaving him on the hook for covering for her. Being the nice guy he is, he almost always stepped up, especially because it was also helping out Edgar and Eliza, the old couple who owns the place. As for Robin, she had an exam the next day worth a large portion of the class grade, and the professor expressly stated that one better be dead or close to it if they expected to be excused. That left Sam, who was wide open since he was working at his own pace on his PhD.

Still, he hates the silence that is lingering. She is not the most talkative person, especially when something is bothering her so he tried listening to the radio. Music sounded inappropriate, but he also happens to like talk radio. So does his companion, especially with the recent goings-on in the world of politics. He remains usually pretty mute when the conversation turns to topics he does not agree with, but she likes to argue back at the radio. When a Bauman surrogate kept going on and on about how great his candidate is and she said nothing, he thought it a bad sign. Then when they played some audio of the guy himself speaking and she didn't make a quip about the old man needing to retire back to his corner of Kanto, Sam knew he may as well turn it off. With no reaction on her part, he realizes she probably isn't listening. If he thinks about it himself, then he realizes he isn't listening, either. Maybe he should try making conversation. They left so quickly this morning that he didn't really get a chance to tell her of his conversation with Kavi.

"Hey, just so you know, my advisor was going to personally talk to your professors. He said Rye was probably going to be a jerk about it but that you shouldn't worry. If he tries to punish your grade, Kavi will go to bat for you."

"Thanks," she says simply. Sam decides to go on.

"The guy really is a jerk, though. I hated his class, but I had no other choice but to take it. I guess the same is true for you, huh? Who knew you could make the study of interpersonal communication between humans and Pokémon so boring?"

In his mind, he flashes back to that awful experience. The guy was impossible to please and wouldn't tell students what they did wrong so they could improve. He offered up office hours but never kept them, or he found reasons to not meet students who would try and make appointments. In Sam's opinion, the only reason he is even still there is because his family has donated a lot of money to the science department ever since he was in primary school. It was apparently always assumed he would not only get a degree from the place but also a job. And so it goes, who you know is more important than your own achievements.

"Only you would think a class titled that would be interesting in the first place." The sarcasm catches him off guard for a second, and he feels ever so slightly offended. Then he lets himself crack a small smile, glad to hear something normal coming from his friend.

"That's true, I suppose. Good thing you have me to help you get through it. You know, his was the only class I got a C in. What're you pulling right now?"

"It was an A- last time he posted scores."

"Really?"

"You don't need to sound so surprised."

"Sorry. It's just that guy loves to fail people. When he can't justify doing that, he'll pass them with a C and claim they lost points for 'participation.' You must have made a good impression on him."

"I doubt that."

"Why are you always so down on yourself lately?" In a way, the negativity kind of annoys him, but more importantly than that, he doesn't like hearing her criticize herself. In his opinion, there is no reason to. Out of all of the people he has met and known, he greatly admires her, especially after learning certain details of her childhood. The person he first met over a year ago could be haughty to such a degree that he would sometimes rethink his offer to be friends. Quickly he figured out it was mostly just a front, but there was still actual confidence behind the arrogant words that became less frequent.

As he figured, he doesn't get an answer. He wasn't really asking a question so much as he was pointing out this habit he was unsure if she realized she was exhibiting. Even still, the silence tells him enough (that she does know but also that she is going to keep any reasons to herself). He decides to steer the conversation in a different direction.

"So what exactly is wrong with your dad?"

"He's sick."

"Obviously." Though he doesn't mean for it to, he lets some of that annoyance show. They're friends, and as he has explained before (one time even condescendingly as if he was speaking to a child), friends can tell each other things without being judged or having to worry about a negative reaction. This is sometimes still forgotten, but if he thinks about it, it is also a thing that has become more common in the last couple of months. He feels bad, though. "And that won't exactly make you want to tell me. I'm sorry. I can ask your mom, or I can just drop it if it's something you don't want to talk about." He decides to end this topic here before he does any more damage, but his words actually do stick with her. Behind the jokes and banter, there is a good young man who has actually managed to earn her trust. This isn't just some ordinary piece of information, though. Over the years, it became an unsaid family secret between her mom and herself. By Sam simply accompanying her home, she is bringing him into it whether she tells him or not. It'll be easier if he knows.

"He has a mood disorder." Not at all expecting to hear that, he takes his eyes off of the road and looks at her. She, however, is still staring out the window. Quickly he realizes the reaction he is about to have is exactly what will drive her further inward. Calmly, he looks back at the road.

"That must have been rough." Internally he smacks himself. "I mean, the way society still looks at mental health issues has a lot of room to improve." Again, he tells himself she obviously knows that having grown up with it. "But thank you for trusting me with that." Finally, he feels good about something he has said. Then he immediately scolds himself for his personal congratulations. Why should it matter how he feels about himself? Being a compassionate, normal human being should be expected, not a position to receive accolades for.

While he goes back and forth with his internal struggle, he doesn't realize that she, too, is going back and forth with something. It would answer his question from a just a couple of minutes ago along with the observations he has kept to himself. It might even be beneficial for her. This is yet another thing that has remained a topic within the family, and even though she never set out to make it so, Sam has become part of her family (this sentimentality she still tries to scoff at, however).

"It's hereditary," she tells him suddenly. His inner monologue shuts down at hearing this. He doesn't want to jump to any conclusions though he is fairly certain of what she is alluding to. So that he doesn't come to the wrong idea (because she knows him so well), she elaborates a little bit more. "He has it worse. I just have to deal with anxiety."

"Really?" Again, he internally smacks himself for such a dumb statement. What he says doesn't seem to bother her at all.

"The medicine helps. But I stopped taking it four months ago." Right away he understands the reasoning for it. That was when Marcellus asked her to marry him. As he confessed to both her and later Sam, he was working up to popping the question, but her pregnancy announcement spurred him on. Truth be told, Sam knows very little about human medicine and not much more about certain illnesses so he briefly wonders how safe it was to stop taking something so obviously important. Quickly he corrects his thinking, though. She is far from an idiot and probably waned off of the medication under the watchful eye of a physician. Something else then occurs to him. Obviously he had no idea of this, and he wonders if his friend knows. In his opinion, it is something of importance that he cannot imagine not talking about.

"Have you told Marcellus?"

"It hasn't come up." Against his better judgment, he gets irritated.

"Why not? It's pretty important." Without missing a beat, she counters him.

"Why haven't you told Robin how you really feel?" Again, he recognizes what she is trying to do. He is not going to let her use him to deflect the conversation, however.

"My obvious insecurities about rejection aside, there is zero reason you should keep this from him. Nothing you do or say will make that man leave. It didn't work a year ago, and it won't work now." She says nothing, and he gets a little frustrated. "Do you remember back in February just before you two got married?"

"Maybe if you were more specific."

"Fine, I'll pinpoint the exact afternoon then. Marcellus was trying to finish up his project for that short-term arts class he was finally taking."

That day is far from a forgotten memory. It was his last lower division class, something he had been putting off finishing for some time. He settled on an accelerated-pace exploration class that would introduce various types of art to students, and thus the final project was open to various interpretations. Unlike Sam, he cannot draw if his life depended on it. Painting was equally hard for him. His one sculpture was a lumpy mess that left people guessing. Almost last but definitely least, he personally found concept art to be no more than taking random objects, gluing them together in no particular order, and pretending you are making a political or cultural statement. It was stupid. That left one last field, the world of photography.

He decided to make a book about various aspects of the city their university claims home, and so he dragged them both out to the city limits. Where the wild met civilization, where safety ended unless you had your trusty Pokémon companions with you he wanted to capture on film. For someone with no experience operating the complex piece of equipment (he had used cameras before, but they were always the simple, rudimentary kind meant to be used in a casual manner), he had good vision on his subjects. Just for fun, this ended up including her and Sam as he finished off the roll. Although he swore he would tear hers up if it came out badly, everyone knew he was lying. So long as he didn't go around showing it off, then they could pretend it didn't exist.

"I'm sure you can tell where I'm going with this," he cuts into her thoughts. "He didn't destroy the picture he took of you. In fact, he keeps it on him nearly all of the time. I caught him once and asked about it, and he actually got embarrassed. From what I could gather from his mumbling, he uses it as motivation when he gets frustrated or too tired." Although she was not expecting that to be Sam's big reveal, it is not surprising. Marcellus is a sap. He means well and is good-natured about it, but he's a sap nonetheless. "And if that doesn't convince you enough, just remember that he actually married you. Yes, I'm partly being sarcastic, but it's true." Having finished saying his piece, he turns his full attention back to driving. He hasn't looked away from the road since the beginning, but speaking also divides one's attention, especially when you let emotions take enough control. For someone as stubborn as she is, he doesn't expect an answer so he is extra surprised when she does say something.

"You're right. I know." He thinks to himself that of course he's right. He won't dare say that aloud, however. "I'll deal with it when we go back."

"Good." It's a start, he thinks.

Silence then returns between them. To drown this out, he flicks the radio back on. They are still talking politics but have moved on to Ogden, the extremist whom both of them find appallingly ignorant and yet dangerous at the same time. His comments are enough to make even the least-interested person in this process rage, and Sam kind of wants to avoid topics that could be further angering. In the end, though, he decides to leave it. Although he is usually quiet, he decides to let his thoughts be known. Hopefully it can take her thoughts off of her father and Marcellus for the time being. Plus he has been getting more vocal lately when it comes to his views, and that man makes him feel stabby each time he opens his mouth. Venting is good, he tells himself as he turns the volume up.

TBC...