Yes, I know I said that I'd wait a week, but I was just too excited to share my writing with the world. You guys will have to forgive me for that.

This is easily the longest chapter so far, and I expect the next one to be even longer (although I haven't written it yet, I have an outline.) Whether you have been following since the first chapter, or if you just tuned in now, I greatly appreciate your readership.

Current music: Cure for the Enemy - Billy Talent

When Ash had first learned about his opponent, the initial stress of no longer running unopposed consumed him for several days. During this time, he could scarcely focus on anything but the campaign and the need to find dirt on said opponent.

However, just like any other shocking event, the initial effect of it wore off, eventually. That's not to say that Ash fully relaxed; after all, he still had a campaign to run, a relationship to keep healthy, and many other things to do.

But, slowly but surely, the candidate adjusted to his new reality. One morning, the fourth or fifth since Kodai's announcement, Ash woke up and realized that it no longer felt like a belt was around his chest, slowly getting tighter and tighter. He could breathe far more easily.

"That's good, Ash," Serena told him over breakfast. "It was bound to happen, eventually. You wouldn't have the race to yourself forever."

"Yup," her boyfriend responded between sips of hot chocolate.

"Pika? Pika? (What's going on?)"

Ash smiled. "It's okay, Pikachu. We're just talking about some things."

Serena shrugged. "I think it's good that you're not worrying as much as you used to. Maybe you can channel that stress into running a more active campaign - it's been almost a month, and you've still only done that one event."

During the last few days, Ash had been obsessively following the news of Kodai's campaign. Whatever else you could say about the man, he was working hard for the nomination - he held fundraising events seemingly every day. This, from a man who could self-fund!

"I know, Serena," Ash replied. "Sorry about that. I just…".

"Don't apologize to me," his girlfriend snapped. "You're the one who wants this. You're only hurting yourself by not holding more events."

Ash saw no reason to bicker with Serena about this. After all, she had a point; Ash was the one running for President. As some would say, the buck stopped with him.

After that, the days passed faster, and with a lot more of the click-clack of the keyboard.

The candidate spent hours upon hours at his laptop, pecking at the keyboard every so often - not because he couldn't find the keys, but because he spent countless minutes wondering what he should say when he went in front of his next crowd.

"I get that you're frustrated, Ash, but there's no better way to do it," his girlfriend told him one afternoon, when she saw the candidate pulling his hair out of exasperation. "You can't use an AI chatbot to write speeches, as tempting as it may be."

"I never suggested that."

"Well, it was kinda implied there. If you don't want to write the speeches yourself, you could hire Brock to do it for you, but that's an expense as well. And with two opponents now, you'll need every cent you can get."

"Wait a minute," Ash responded, his heart skipping a beat. "Someone else declared?"

"Yes," Serena confirmed. "But don't panic. He has no chance of winning - he's a perennial candidate. Joe Bidoof is his name."

The candidate frowned. "Perennial candidate?"

"Yes. He's constantly running for office, but he never wins. And yet, for him, the battle rages on - he seems determined to win this year. Which he won't."

Ash chuckled, his initial worry seeming silly now. And it was; if Joe Bidoof was as incompetent as Serena suggested, there was nothing to be concerned about.

Getting back to something else Serena had mentioned, a thought occurred to Ash.

"I had an idea, Serena," he said.

"What's that?"

"We could get Brock to set up a fundraising portal for the campaign," Ash suggested. "We could connect it to ActBlue or something. It would negate the need to spend hours a day on the phone." (The last several days of thumbing through that phone book hadn't gone much better than the disastrous first session.)

"We'd have to hire him for that," Serena told Ash. "I hope you're willing to shell out some money for it, unless he's okay with working for free. Usually, hiring a tech team isn't cheap."

Brock, however, was far more amenable to the idea than Serena had feared.

"Don't worry about it," he insisted. "And you don't have to pay me. I'll pay you. It'll be quite the honor to be the head of your digital media department."

"Really?" Ash asked, his heart climbing several feet. "You'd work for negative money?"

"Fine, I'll do it for free," Brock replied. Though Ash couldn't see his friend's face, he imagined the other man winking. "I'll be over later - I just have to walk the Lillipup."

Hallelujah!

When Brock arrived on the threshold of the apartment Ash shared with Serena, the candidate was there to welcome him with open arms. (Metaphorically speaking, of course; it would have been quite odd for Ash to hug his friend.)

"Let's do this," Brock said. "I know exactly how it works, trust me."

Ash's mind was blown as, seconds after he abdicated the swivel chair for his friend to use, Brock's fingers were feverishly dancing around the keyboard, inputting numerous commands that all worked towards one goal.

"Okay, I'm going to help you set up an account on Pokélife. You'll be able to post campaign videos there, as well as any other news people should know about. I'll just need your email address."

Ash told Brock all the relevant information for starting an account, and his friend typed this information in. Then…

"You should probably select a logo for your campaign," Brock suggested. "It can't just be your face - it needs to be more memorable."

"But everyone knows who I am," Ash replied.

"That doesn't matter. It looks a lot more professional to have a more proper logo, or else they'll think you're a joke. A perennial candidate like Joe Bidoof."

"Fine," the candidate said. "But I don't have a lot of artistic talent. I don't know if I can make a good logo."

"Then hire someone else to do it for you. I'm sure Serena and Pikachu could do a good job."

"That's the problem, isn't it?" Ash asked morosely. "I can't hire anyone without raising money, but I can't raise money if I don't have a good logo. But in order to get a logo, I need to…".

"I'll help. Like I said over the phone, Ash, I'll do it for free. I believe in the cause, and it's worth my labor."

"If you say so."

The men spent the next two hours in the office working on the logo. Since Ash didn't know how to use the paint application on his laptop, he deferred to Brock on the best way to color it in. But in the end, they had something that both men were reasonably happy with.

The logo read KETCHUM FOR PRESIDENT, just in case anyone forgot that Ash was indeed running for President. The words, printed in gargantuan black font, were contained within a white square surrounded by red.

"Well, that'll certainly stand out," Ash said with a chuckle.

"That's the goal, Ash," Brock responded. "After all, the worst thing an ad can make a voter feel is nothing. When you're running for President, there is no such thing as negative publicity."

"Pika? Pika? (What's going on here?)"

Ash, who was currently in the swivel chair, spun around to glance at Pikachu. The Pokémon had entered the room, wagging his lightning bolt-shaped tail back and forth as though he were trying to rock it to sleep.

"We're just working on the campaign, Pikachu. There are some things that need to be squared away."

"Pika? Pika? (What does 'squared away' mean?)"

Ash chuckled. "It means something that's dealt with. Something we've done."

"It will all be worth it", Brock interjected, "when your trainer sits in the Crimson Chamber." Brock was referring to the Unovan President's office, one of the most opulent rooms in the Presidential Palace.

Pikachu stood there for a moment, nodding his head as he understood. Then…

"Pika! Pika! (Will you take me to the park?)"

A few weeks ago, Ash wouldn't have hesitated. Of course he would take Pikachu to the park - both of them could use the exercise, particularly the pikachu. Besides, while it was still summer, the air wasn't nearly as oppressive as it had been before.

But there was something else to consider now. Ash was no longer merely Ash Ketchum, the best trainer like no one ever was. He was now Ash Ketchum, candidate for President of Unova. The reporters would hound him like they never had before - indeed, that's what happened when he went anywhere these days.

"I'm afraid not, Pikachu," Ash said, each of those four words causing a sensation akin to a bullet in the heart.

The pikachu's face immediately deflated. The electric mouse looked back and forth, evidently wondering if Brock could be persuaded to take him out instead. Of course, that was a pipe dream, not least because Brock didn't speak the language of Pokémon.

"Pika? Pika? (Why not?)"

Ash sighed. "Life isn't as simple as it used to be, Pikachu. I'm sorry about that."

Pikachu's expression was now positively morose, as he appreciated that all hope was lost. And Ash felt guilty about that. He really did. But a trip to the park, if not for a campaign event, would raise more than a few eyebrows.

The Pokémon, however, did not respond. Instead, the electric mouse turned tail and jogged back towards the apartment's kitchen.

Ash expected Serena to enter the office and yell at him to give Pikachu what he wanted. Honestly, the candidate would have preferred that, because then it would have been so much easier to say yes. To give his companion what he wanted, needed, and, most of all, deserved.

But Serena did not come, and Ash had to accept that ultimately, the buck stopped with him. That was true as a candidate, and it would be true if he got elected. The fact was, he just couldn't live his life like he used to.

And for that, Ash had no one to blame but himself.

The account on Pokélife didn't get as much traction as Ash had hoped at first. If the candidate had been expecting to go viral instantly with whatever he had to say, he was sorely disappointed.

"These things take time," Brock said when Ash voiced this worry. "It won't happen overnight. Just keep at it, and eventually you'll get more engagement."

Over the next few weeks, the follower count slowly but surely ticked upwards. Sometimes the number next to the "Followers" label rolled up like an odometer, which was kind of fitting, since the campaign's posts were receiving more mileage.

Of course, this was not without its drawbacks.

Some nights, Ash would spend hours at a time in front of his laptop, staring at the screen as the numbers slowly increased. He'd clasp his hands together as though praying for Arceus to bless him with more social media engagement.

Imagine that meeting at church the next day, if I were a devout member, the candidate thought bitterly. "Oh, what did you pray for?"

"I prayed for my child to survive his pediatric cancer."

"I prayed for the war in Hoenn to come to an end."

"And Ash… what did you pray for?"

"Oh, uh… I prayed for more attention on Pokélife!"

It was all quite trivial in the grand scheme of things. However, Ash knew exactly why he was running, and that's what kept him motivated when things got tough.

Pikachu would come to his side every few hours, clearly displeased with his lack of attention. And each time this happened, Ash would feel a tiny little shank to the heart, realizing that he was failing his best friend.

And yet, some things were necessary evils. One day, Pikachu would understand that his trainer had been fighting for what truly mattered: A better future for all Pokémon. But that didn't make the present much easier.

One day, things turned the corner.

Ash had been staring at the donations page, much like he usually did these days. The cash flow had been steady, but not nearly as rapid as he'd hoped. Compared to the tens of millions that Kodai could drop on anything he wanted, this was next to nothing.

However, on this day at the end of summer, the sort of day that the old Ash Ketchum would have spent outdoors, frolicking around in the park, the counter started rolling upward at a blistering pace.

The candidate pinched himself, then rubbed his eyes. He could hardly believe that he was seeing reality. After well over a week of anemic fundraising, was he finally gaining momentum?

It would appear so!

"Hey, Serena!" Ash exclaimed, a little louder than he had meant to.

The young woman raced into the room, eyes wide open as though she were expecting to find her boyfriend crumpled on the ground, moaning in agony. When she saw that this wasn't the case, she nonetheless gasped.

"What's going on, Ash? Why did you yell for me? It doesn't look like you're hurt!"

"On the contrary, I'm doing great!" her boyfriend all but yelled. "And so is the campaign! We're really raking in the dough!"

"Then bake some bread," Serena replied, winking. "Maybe a loaf of challah or something."

"Nah, I've got bigger priorities. Like raising more money, and figuring out how to put it to good use. Remember: Smarter, not harder."

"I've got an idea."

"What's that?" Ash enquired, his eyebrows and ears rising.

"You should go to the park and film an ad. Then you can post it on Pokélife. That's a good way to celebrate, and besides, it won't take too much out of your budget. What could go wrong?"

Ash snorted. "Maybe they'll make fun of the ad? It'll probably look like one of those biker gang ads where they make fun of themselves."

Serena chuckled in response. "Well, if you don't try, you won't know."

In order to celebrate the new windfall, having raised six figures in a day for the first time, Ash took Pikachu to the park for the first time in a week. The electric mouse squealed with delight, trace amounts of electricity exiting his cheeks; Ash had to step back to avoid it.

The fresh air was heaven on Ash's face. The summer was in its twilight hours, and autumn was about to take its place. Already a few leaves were turning yellow and orange, and the weather was pleasantly crisp.

"It'll just be a nearby park today, Pikachu," Ash told his Pokémon, who was walking beside him. "I don't care if I get noticed."

The park wasn't terribly crowded; it was easy for the few people present to spread out from one another. Ash led Pikachu to an area near the battling courts, then turned his camera on.

And then the candidate frowned, for he hadn't thought of anything to say. He hadn't spent much time watching Kodai's ads, which was pretty damning, since he'd had ample time to do his research.

Don't do tons of research, he told himself. You don't need to - in fact, it's better to sound genuine and unscripted. Just like your first campaign speech.

That event may have been "only" several weeks ago, but it felt like several lifetimes ago. Ash could no longer remember exactly what he'd said, but he was pretty sure he'd written a script for that address.

"Okay, Pikachu, we're filming the ad now," the candidate said, only to turn around and find that the pikachu wasn't right behind him. In fact, the electric mouse was chasing a couple Butterfree around a different section of the park.

Of course. He's been cooped up inside for so long - why wouldn't he get a bit restless and want to let it all out now?

"Hey, Pikachu, we're going to make an ad now. And I want you to be in it."

"Pika? Pika? (What do I have to do?)"

"All you need to do," Ash responded, "is wag your tail back and forth and squeal in joy when I talk about how I treat you like a member of my family. Because you are my family."

"Pika! Pika! (Will do, sir!)"

After a practice take of the ad, Ash got out his phone camera and held it over himself and Pikachu. And then he began delivering his message:

"Hey, I'm Ash Ketchum. Allow me to introduce myself - I'm the winner of a league, yes, but I'm more than just a celebrity. And I'm not running to make history - I'm running to make a difference-".

At that very moment, without any warning, Pikachu sneezed out some sparks, which gave Ash a "mild" electric shock. The candidate grimaced, then laughed.

"The point is, I'm just like you. Pikachu is my oldest companion, my best friend. And that's my reason for running, because I want to treat all Pokémon that way once I am elected. They inhabit this world with us, and should be considered equals. Right, Pikachu?"

When Pikachu nodded, squealing "Pika! Pika! (That's right!)," Ash winked at the camera.

"I'm Ash Ketchum, and I approve this message."

The trainer then turned the camera off and turned to face Pikachu. This time, the electric mouse had fortunately not run from Ash's side.

"There you are, Pikachu. We did it!"

"Pika! Pika! (We sure did, sir!)"

Ash snorted. "There's no need to call me 'sir', Pikachu. We're best friends, after all, and that will never change."

When Ash returned to his apartment, he uploaded the short clip to his Pokélife channel. Because he wasn't the most tech-savvy person, he was forced to ask Brock for assistance.

Fortunately, the other man didn't seem bothered, and before long, the video had hit the shelves. Not only that, but it was being viewed by as many as several hundred people at a time.

"Wow," Ash mouthed. "That's pretty incredible."

"Indeed, it is," Serena responded. "Just look, too - it tells you where all your traffic is coming from. Isn't that pretty amazing?"

"Hopefully it's mostly in Unova," Ash muttered. "Campaign finance law doesn't allow people from other regions to donate to campaigns here. Of course, there are more important things than money."

Right after finishing that statement, Ash realized something. He frowned.

"What's wrong, honey?" his girlfriend asked.

"My mother can't support the campaign financially. She still lives in Pallet Town, Kanto. I'm sure she wants to, though."

"She can still phonebank for you," Serena assured him. "In fact, she's probably one of the few people who will do it for free. Then again, you won't have trouble raising money from here on out, now that you've got an ad up."

Indeed, she was right. The donation portal was heating up, money pouring in from all corners of Unova. As more and more people saw the ad, they were attracted to the campaign and wanted to support it.

I'll try to keep things as positive as I can. Nobody likes a candidate who only trashes his opponent and does nothing else.

"By the way, Ash, did you hear that there's a debate coming up?"

The candidate gulped. "No?"

Serena brought her fist down on the table; it was clear she hadn't meant to hit her boyfriend (and she didn't), just shock him enough that he knew what was happening.

"It's all over the news. You just haven't been scouring the Internet enough, or rather, not in the right way."

Ash felt himself blush. He should have been more attentive, for sure; there had been times when he'd just stared at the donation counter for hours on end.

"Okay then," the candidate mumbled. "Where is the debate?"

"It's at Nimbasa University," Serena snapped. "Which is something you'd know if you had bothered to pay attention."

Great. Kodai's home turf.

"You'll need to qualify for the debate in order to appear on stage. If you qualify for the debate, then skip it, you're going to look like a coward. So if you continue the campaign, you should be ready to debate."

Ash put his head in his hands. "I don't know if I can do that."

"You can, Ash," Serena assured her boyfriend. "I'll coach you. We'll pull an all-nighter right before if we have to. Hopefully, it doesn't come to that, though."

"Okay!" the candidate shouted, trying desperately to hold back tears. "So, what's the threshold to be in the debate?"

"You know what? I won't tell you. Just look it up; you've got enough Internet literacy to do that, right?"

A few seconds later, Ash had his answer: In order to take part in the debate, a candidate had to register at least 5% support in at least two approved polls, and they needed at least half a million individual donors.

"Wow," Ash mouthed. "That's quite a task."

"It sure is," Serena told him curtly. "Which is why we'd better get started. The portal should tell you how many donations you're getting, shouldn't it?"

"Well, yeah. But the debate's in early October - it's late August now. Six weeks, to get half a million people to donate. That's…" Ash trailed off, trying to do the math rapidly; this skill was in Brock's wheelhouse, not his.

"Twelve thousand donors a day, roughly," Serena replied. "Yes, I know. It's not like we're starting from nothing, but we'll need to pound the pavement quite a lot. Give the campaign everything you've got. Ash, being a boyfriend isn't your highest priority right now."

The candidate sighed, pushing his swivel chair back from the desk. He glanced up at the ceiling, where a moth (not a Pokémon, just a moth) was buzzing around the light.

"I can do this," Ash promised himself aloud. "All those poor Pokémon are counting on me. If they can put up with everything they've been through - not that they should have to put up with it - I can run a strong enough campaign to win."

"That's the spirit, dear," Serena said.

Over the course of the next month, Ash and the crew significantly stepped up the campaign's footprint. From a shoestring operation run out of a church basement, it grew into something much grander.

Ash's first ad had gone viral. It appeared that, just as he had predicted, his positive style of campaigning had resonated with his would-be voters. And as the donations poured in, the organization was, for the first time, flush with cash.

With this money, the campaign was able to hire an opposition research team. They would comb the Internet day (and maybe night) to find any damaging information about Grings Kodai, Joe Bidoof, or another candidate who declared in early September, Senator Robbie Chilacoth. All of this would be reported to another person the campaign employed: The media consultant, who would use it to put together attack ads.

The campaign also hired a pollster, a move that Ash didn't understand at first.

"Why do we need a pollster?" he asked Brock over the phone, trying not to lose his cool. He wasn't angry; just confused.

"Even though there will be plenty of public polling," Brock responded, "we'll still gather plenty of data for our own campaign. That's how we'll decide what provinces to spend our efforts in, and which ones to ignore."

"Makes sense," Ash said, grateful that his friend couldn't see the candidate's face turn red.

"If you need anything, Ash, you know that you can count on me, right?"

"Of course, Brock. Other than Pikachu and Serena, you're my best friend. If I can't trust you, I can't trust anyone."

When he talked to Serena over breakfast the following morning, the woman's eyes lit up with what Ash hoped was joy.

"The donations keep coming in, you said?"

Ash nodded. "At this rate, we might actually reach the debate threshold. How many other candidates do you think will be there?"

In the back of his mind, he pictured having to share the stage with fifteen other people. If the room was that crowded, it seemed unlikely that he'd be able to get more than a few words in, and not knowing anybody's position on the most important issues could easily make voters tune out the election.

"Probably only a handful of others," Serena told her boyfriend.

"Pika! Pika! (Do you want to go for a walk, Ash?)"

The candidate chuckled. "I think I should indulge Pikachu."

"You do that," Serena replied. "I'll talk to the opposition research team while you're away."

Now that the campaign had a small army of employees, the days passed far more rapidly. It seemed like there was always something to be done, whether it be talking to employees and volunteers, hiring new employees, or searching the web for anything that might hurt Grings Kodai, Joe Bidoof, or Robbie Chilacoth.

Of course, there was one other campaign activity, one Ash soon found that he'd grown to enjoy more than the others. Yes, he saw the numbers on the screen; on some level, he knew he was gaining momentum. There were people out there who supported the campaign and wanted him to win; that was obvious.

But only when he left the screen and took the stage did he see it with his own eyes.

The campaign couldn't afford to charter a private jet yet, but that didn't mean Ash couldn't hold rallies in and around Crown City. As the summer heat receded day by day, as the leaves started turning color in earnest, he spent more time outdoors - just like the old Ash used to.

One rally on the Crown City Common, the largest green space in town, put Ash right on Cloud Nine. By this time, it was late September, and summer had officially abdicated its throne. A cool breeze ruffled the grass, as well as Ash's hair.

With Pikachu at his side, Ash strode up to the podium. His heart filled with warmth and confidence as he grabbed the microphone and adjusted it to the height of his mouth.

"Can everyone hear me?" he bellowed, peering out into the crowd. There had to be at least a thousand people there, some wearing red shirts bearing the KETCHUM FOR PRESIDENT logo. And yes, compared to some of the rallies President Fiddlesticks had held during his own election campaign, that was small potatoes, but crowd size isn't everything.

When the audience clapped and cheered, presumably answering in the affirmative, Ash grinned and read from his prepared remarks.

"All of you are gathered here because of some incentive. That may be a material incentive - maybe by paying to attend this rally, you received a red T-shirt. It could be a purposive incentive - perhaps you support the policies I have proposed for my first legislative session, should I be elected.

"But I'm guessing that many of you had a solidary incentive - that is, you're here because it's cool. I guess attending Ash Ketchum rallies is the new big thing, and I'm not going to complain about that. I mean, look at me! Does it sound like I'm complaining?"

"NO!" came an exclamation from the crowd in near-perfect unison.

"Good, because I'm not!" Ash shouted happily. "In fact, I'm the last person in the world who should complain! I'm running for President of Unova with my two best friends. Three, if you include Brock Banditt!

"And no, contrary to popular belief, Brock is not a bandit. He's not going to steal from you. On my first day as President, I will sign executive orders aimed at reducing corruption in the Unovan government - all of you deserve nothing less."

There were a number of audible chuckles from the attendees, but it was all in good fun, and Ash knew that, so he continued his speech.

As he looked at his script, Ash giggled nervously. He'd arrived at what he'd thought was a clever line when he'd been putting his remarks together. But there was no way to know how the crowd reacted.

Oh well. There's no going back now - if I try to make something up on the fly, they'll know.

"We're going to make the establishment squeal. And when that happens, all the Pokémon in this region will squeal as well, except that the squeals from the latter group will be from joy!"

More laughter erupted from the attendees, and Ash seized this chance to take Serena's hand in his own. Taking a quick glance at his girlfriend, the candidate whispered, "You know what to do, right?"

"No. What should I do?" Her expression suggested that she genuinely didn't know the answer.

"Just lift your arm up with me, and we'll pump our fists in the air. That's how we'll show that we believe we can win."

Serena nodded. Ash figured that, just as it was for him, many aspects of running for President were a work in progress for his girlfriend. But sooner or later, they'd be naturals at this.

Once the crowd had regained their bearings, Ash took to the podium again.

"Now, with every passing day, this campaign (which, unlike that of Grings Kodai, is powered by the people of Unova) inches closer to qualifying for the first debate. That is only possible thanks to all of your help - without it, I would not be able to get the word out to a wider audience. That being said, every cent helps, so if you're at this rally and not donating to my campaign, what are you doing?"

Yes, I'm openly begging for money. But that's fine, because all candidates do it… right?

Ash winked at Serena. That was their signal; it was time.

The couple held hands, then pumped their fists upward. And that's when Ash delivered the line that would become his catchphrase.

"We are the people of Unova. There is nothing we cannot do, and that includes winning!"