Most heroes that are sent to an isekai (異世界) often are met with a gruelling and tragic demise in their home world. Whether it's through [Truck-kun]'s brutal embrace, or just a really bad slip-and-fall down the stairs, you usually have to die before you're allowed to slip through the cracks into an alternate reality. My own story was no different, perhaps lamer.

On paper, I'm as plain as anyone could be. In my previous life, I was just a first-year associate in a pretty big firm in Portland, Oregon. With a starting salary of just over ninety grand a year, I was finally making strides towards living debt-free and happy. Law school was a hellish ordeal, life in middle-of-nowhere Spokane, Washington. If I'd known that my first life was going to be this short, I'd have at least lived somewhere with a decent TRPG scene.

All it took was me not closing my door properly after a long day of killing myself at the firm. Somehow, an unexpected and hungry houseguest had decided that my crappy little flat was the perfect place to scrounge for food. Coyotes aren't normally supposed to attack humans. This one clearly did not get that memo in its formative years.

So instead of the pit stop to shower and dress before heading over to Hawthorne for a drink, I was viciously attacked by a scrappy-looking excuse for a mutt. No really, I was torn apart limb from limb. I still feel phantom pains from that brutal assault. The coyote ripped me into pieces.

Then after dying brutally and without a single soul aware of what happened, my spirit just sort of floated away from the mangled remains. Think of Ash Ketchum from the old Pokémon anime, in that one episode with the haunted tower. It was literally that, except without a small electric rodent by my side.

But anyways, I've lost track of the story. So I died in Portland and woke up in the middle of the road, passed out and my neck strained in a very uncomfortable position. There were tiny charred feathers strewn on the ground around me, almost like a mix between a pigeon and a falcon's. A few dozen feet ahead of me, there was a boy lying unmoving. He had sick red welts covering his arms and neck. I was no expert, but he seemed to be covered in electric burns. Though I'd just woken up myself, not feeling particularly healthy, a knot twisted in my stomach when I recognised the boy, who was in an even worse state than mine.

I had woken up in a parallel universe next to someone dressed like Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town.

"Hey kid, are you okay?" I ran over to the boy and roughly shook his shoulder. The static shock from just brushing against his arm was enough to zap my hand rather painfully. I ignored the pain and felt his wrist for a pulse. There was nothing. Not even the faintest thrum.

Since I wasn't a medical expert of any sort, I flipped him onto his back and tried to do the one thing I was actually qualified to perform: CPR. [Cardiopulmonary resuscitation] was just one of the certifications I needed to get hired at the YMCA as a swimming instructor. I made sure to line the kid's back up against the hard ground before pumping his chest to the beat of Another One Bites the Dust. Ominous, but I wasn't much of a Bee Gees fan.

"Come on. Come on. Wake up!" I slapped him across the face, a little harder than necessary. The kid didn't even stir, his relaxed face rolling over from the impact. He could've been a shoe-in for any live adaptation of the Pokémon anime, with how much he looked like the Ash I grew up watching.

Yet digging through his jacket pocket only confused me even further. Ash Ketchum, born in 1142, according to his trainer licence. A quick peek at the red phone-like device also in his pocket showed that it was currently the year 1152. This kid was ten years old, just like Ketchum.

Now, while the concept of getting sent to a parallel dimension might be easier to swallow with all the isekai content that is out these days, it's not any easier when it happens to you. I steadied myself against the ground as a fresh wave of nausea hit me. Away from the boy's still form, I regurgitated the remaining contents of my stomach. If anyone was watching me, it would have been a terrible sight to behold.

Cool air cut through my torn suit jacket. I buttoned up the front in a feeble attempt to trap in more body heat. The sun was just about to start setting in the horizon, while I had no idea what to do about this situation. I couldn't very well leave this kid here to freeze to death, after all. If he was the real Ash Ketchum, then he would be my only link to making any sense of what was happening to me.

I dug through the rest of his belongings to try and find anything else that could help me transport him. Since his iconic rodent friend was nowhere in sight, I assumed that the pikachu had either been taken by the flock of spearows, or just ran off after the big fight. With one hand still firmly pushing against the ground, I hoisted the kid onto my shoulders.

We made our way down what I assumed was Route 1, seeing as the path was relatively straightforward. I could see more feathers loosely scattered about along the road, singed from the giant blast of electricity that had been a last-ditch effort to save this boy's life. I had to stop and take several breaks along the way, not being in quite the best shape. Hours of walking and checking for any vital signs. Nothing. As far as I could tell, I was just delivering a corpse.

The lights of a city began to show up in the distance. It was a relief, almost making me ditch the kid and just continue on without the extra baggage. Of course, being the morally upstanding person that I am, I did no such thing. We continued on for another hour before reaching the police station that I knew housed my first big hurdle.

What the hell could I say to explain myself?

A smarter person than I could probably devise of a masterful plot, riveting in all the right places. Background, familial connections, maybe even spin it in a way to garner support. Instead, the best I could think of was a skewed version of the truth. That I was from the city of Portland, in the America region. I woke up in the middle of Route 1, next to the broken form of this boy I found.

Turns out, people were less interested in me than they were in the young Mr. Ketchum. The police officer, whose hair was an oddly natural shade of dark blue, rushed over. She introduced herself as the city's Officer J.E.N.N.Y.

"Did you find anything to identify this boy?" she asked me. I immediately fished out his pokédex and propped it open.

User: [Ash Ketchum]

[Pallet Town] Residency

Age - 10

Participant of the [Junior Trainer Acceleration Programme]

-Sponsored by Samuel Oak, PkD.

Her eyebrows scrunched together while reading through the basic information listed on the screen. She seemed to be a mix between worried and furious while reading it. "Fuck," she finally muttered under her breath.

"Is something the matter?" I asked. I was rather taken aback by her sudden use of profanity. After all, the anime wasn't exactly geared towards foul-mouthed teenagers or degenerate college kids. My knowledge of the games was fine, since I played through most of them. However, the presence of Ash Ketchum suggested that this world was closer to that of the anime.

Jenny turned towards me, eyes gathered up in a glare. She nodded towards something else in the distance, what seemed to be a line of blackness stretching from a building to the sky. A closer look netted me some valuable information: this was the Pokémon Centre!

"Viridian is under strict lockdown right now. We've been the target of a bloody terrorist attack on our Pokémon Centre by a group of people that… Well, that's none of your business. They were looking specifically for a boy that matches this young man's description, before they did anything else. When we told them that he hadn't arrived in Viridian yet, well…" Jenny's face darkened. "They released a few K-0FF1NG firebombs onto the Pokécentre Complex. We're looking at sixteen injured and another half dozen casualties."

My mind immediately turned to the events of the anime, where something very different had occurred. If the information from the show was at all reliable, which now seemed unlikely, then things should have taken a different turn. The Viridian Pokécentre was supposed to be where Pikachu received his massive power boost, defeating the primary antagonist duo for the first time.

Instead, Viridian was basically the target of a coordinated firebombing. And Ash Ketchum was stone cold and dead next to me. I had a lot more questions on my mind, but I didn't want to seem too suspicious. Not that it did me any favours, however, as Jenny immediately took on a wary expression.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about the firebombing, would you?" she asked. Although she tried to be accusatory, I could sense the thick layer of weariness coating her words. She was desperate for any kind of clue, any lead towards finding the culprits. And I wasn't going to just volunteer my knowledge of Team Rocket just like that. Not when they were potentially a far more insidious group than the kid-geared anime made them out to be.

"I'm sorry. I don't know much else. I ran into this Ash kid while walking down Route 1. He was surrounded by a bunch of singed feathers, possibly from an electrical attack of some kind. I brought him here for medical treatment but…" my words lingered heavily in the air. We both turned towards the black smoke still drifting upwards. There would be more lives lost, that much we were sure of.

"What's your name?" Jenny pulled out a notepad from her belt, clicking a pen.

"I'm Shiza. Shiza Heung," I replied. This wasn't my real name, of course. It was an amalgamation of a friend of mine from Discord and the Korean word for pleasure. It sounded just vaguely Japanese enough that I hoped it would work here in the Kanto region. In fact, I could almost guarantee it, considering that there was a ninja named Koga roaming about. If anyone pressed me for a backstory, it would have been fairly simple to bluff my identity as a Fuchsia citizen.

Besides, what kind of name is Shiza, anyways?

Jenny jotted down some notes, confirming the spelling of the first and last name that I gave her. Under normal circumstances, she might have pressed me for further proof of identification—a trainer card at the very least. However, the circumstances were anything but normal. I could tell that this ordeal with Ash and I was the furthest thing from her list of top priorities, just an extension of her obligations towards this city. She had to get back to figuring out more about the terrorist attack, not waste time with the death of a child.

The only problem? This was the very same child that the terrorists had been looking for. I had ended up in the middle of this mess without any plausible way to get out of it. In Earth speak, I was royally fucked.

"Ma'am, Officer Jenny? I don't have anything else I can tell you. Would you mind if I got some rest? I've been travelling for a long time…" I frowned, clutching my bruised forearms.

Despite being relatively boring, travelling through Route 1 with an injured boy on my shoulders was a taxing ordeal. We had a few minor brushes with overcurious pidgeys or the occasional straggler rattata. A stern shout from myself or the throwing of a pebble was enough to scare them off. Thankfully, it seemed like the pikachu's attack had taken care of the spearow problem.

"Huh? Well…" Jenny said. "You cannot enter the city limits of Viridian. The mayor of Viridian City has announced full lockdown measures. This means that I'll be forced to turn you away. Sorry!" she added onto the end. "You did a great service, bringing this poor boy to the city. We'll make sure to locate his family and deliver the news. Of course, if you'd want, we can leave them your contact information."

As much as it would have been fascinating to meet any more characters from the show, I was not particularly eager to console Delia Ketchum after she found out about her son's tragic demise. Neither did I relish the thought of encountering Professor Oak. Anybody with his connections and influence was bound to stick his nose into my background. I couldn't be sure that my association with Ash thus far wouldn't be enough to unleash the bloodhound.

"I'm fine. Just make sure that he gets back to Pallet Town in one piece," I told Jenny. She nodded before loading his body onto her motor carrier. Jenny gave me some directions to an inn that operated just outside of Viridian City limits. I'd have to technically venture into Route 22, but she assured me that it was a clean and respectable establishment. With this information and a final salute, Officer Jenny was off on her way, and I was finally alone for the first time in this strange new world.

For being an isekai hero, my next dashing act of valour was to immediately crumple to the ground once more. If I had been running on adrenaline, I was all out of it. If it was determination, then it had long since been undermined. I had nothing left in my system so I was just dry heaving onto the dirt. Hacking and coughing, trying to get the foul taste out of my mouth.

Guilt had a huge part in this. Firstly, I felt guilty for the death of the child, even though I was fairly certain that I had nothing to do with it. It appeared that this was the actual Ash Ketchum, protagonist of the Pokémon anime, and perhaps one of the most famous figures in all of animation history. In this world, he was very much real and now he would likely be going six feet under. Unless they preferred to cremate him.

Second, I felt guilty for what happened between me discovering Ash and leaving him with Officer Jenny. In my pants pockets, a fistful of tiny acorn-sized spheres were stacked neatly into rows. I'd probably swiped about fifteen or twenty of the pokéballs, unsure of how to use them but damned sure I wasn't going to miss the chance to try. I also took a little bit of pocket money, a shameful yet necessary course of action.

Once I felt that I could manage a full sentence without throwing up again, I tried to get back on my feet. It was now about nine o'clock at night, according to Ash's Pokédex. Oh yeah, I also pocketed that too. It wasn't like Ash was going to need it anytime soon, being dead and all. If Oak had placed a tracking system or some other security measure, it would be easy to explain that it was just an honest mistake. What kind of monster would steal from a dead child?

Me. Shiza Heung, name pending further review. I was the kind of monster to steal from a dead kid. Since he wasn't just any dead kid, I had really hoped that the plot armour of the anime series would rejuvenate him. Barring that sort of miracle, I took the only pragmatic approach towards surviving in an isekai world. I looted this guy's corpse then turned the case over to the authorities.

"I wonder if they have to read me any kind of Miranda rights," I said aloud, to nobody in particular. "It's all in the due process, yeah?" I laughed. If anyone had been listening, I probably sounded like a maniac. Luckily, there was just a faint cooing in the distance, probably a hoothoot more than a pidgey. I had gotten pretty good at being able to tell when a pidgey or rattata was in the area. It was all in the small noises they made while foraging for berries.

It was about a mile hike towards the inn, which I was able to do with about fifteen minutes of walking. My stomach was growling heavily at this point, all the fatigue of the day not exactly making things easier for me. When the puff of chimney smoke greeted me, I knew that I could at least expect a warmer meal than a bowl of granola.

Before entering the inn, I ran my fingers through my hair and straightened my tattered suit. It wouldn't do to look like a beggar when trying to ask for a place to stay overnight. I pushed open the sturdy wooden door and entered the inn called the Viridian Woodsman.

Immediately, I was hit with the most wonderful scent of berries and meat. It wafted over from behind the innkeeper's counter, presumably from beyond the doors to the kitchen. There were a few tables strewn about in the room, not in any particular order of rows. Other than myself, there was only one other soul in the inside of the inn, a gentleman who looked to be in his fifties. He had moussed black hair, short yet tidy. He had a very wide frame about him, a Gentle Giant vibe as I would've said in the real world. His arms were the sizes of small pillars, chiselled, bulging through his sleeves. The man wore a white button-up shirt, as well as a vest. His outfit was timeless, something that could be worn in both Victorian and Elizabethan England.

"Awful late to be travelling alone, yes?" the man asked. Even his voice was like velvet. It was smooth, like running a crush through a fresh can of mixed paint. It was a deep voice, earthy. It came from the stomach and the lungs, rather than from the back of his throat. He had the kind of voice to relax you, make you feel safe.

The only problem was, I recognised this man all too well. And unless my eyes were deceiving me, this man looked like the Rocket Boss Giovanni. True, a few more grey hairs and a bit shabbier in appearance, but Giovanni nonetheless. And my dumb ass almost let that fact slip through my teeth.

"Had some trouble on the road, sir. Entry to Viridian City is completely blocked. I'm just hoping to get a place to stay until I can start heading to Pewter in the morning," I lied, praying that it wasn't as obvious as it felt. While the part about the blockade was God's honest truth, I had no intention of heading to Pewter without figuring out what was going on. I was essentially a lame duck. Without a pokémon of my own, it wasn't likely that I would survive another venture into the Routes.

The man who most certainly wasn't a villain frowned, setting down the glass that he had been polishing. "Trouble in Viridian? Heh, figures. A lot of my usuals haven't been over tonight." He gestured towards an empty stool by the bar. "Have a seat, friend. What's your poison?"

I panicked, thinking about all the different ways he could poison me. Instead of letting this panic show, I gave him my most genuinely fake smile before sitting down on the stool across from him. If he really was the leader of Team Rocket, then he was responsible for the terrorist attack that had occurred not too long ago. This was a dangerous man. Yet he was also a potential source of much-needed information, especially since I was still very much lost in this world.

"I'll just have a beer, please," I said. I chose not to specify, hoping that he'd give me a couple of options to work with. This was a needless concern, as he just popped open a tap and poured me a frothy ice-cold tankard. I picked it up gingerly, placing it against my feverish lips and taking in a nice long draft. The alcoholic beverage trickled down my throat nicely, soothing the day's toils. Yet my sweet introduction to Kantonian beer also triggered the hunger that I'd been furiously suppressing. The growl of my stomach was akin to the noise that bears make.

The innkeeper just laughed. "I'll get you something to eat as well. I hope you enjoy venison. It's something of a staple around here."

"How'd you know that I'm not from around?" I asked, genuinely curious. I figured that if I had a tell, it'd be nice to find that out sooner rather than later.

The burly-looking man set down a wooden bowl filled generously with the delicious-smelling stew in front of me. It had chunks of meat, I assumed it was stantler, along with carrots, potatoes and something that looked similar to curry sauce. Except it was green.

He grunted, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. "No one asks for beer anymore. Young folk like you are all about the fancy drinks. Nothing that I have on me. I have a pomeg cider if you're really thirsty. Spiced oran berry wine if you've got some money to spare, though…" he gave me a once over, "I'd stick with the beer. It's good stuff, straight from the distilleries in Pewter."

"Oh," I replied. I know, it was a tactful response to his perfectly reasonable observation. Yet another roadblock in my path to figuring out my bearings. "So, what's your name, sir?"

"It's Antonin, my friend," he said, without missing a beat. This was surely a rehearsed answer, one practised several times to appear completely normal. Yet I had something that this guy surely had no idea about: meta knowledge.

"Antonin Giovanni? Like the Viridian City Gym Leader?" I asked, nonchalantly. I figured myself to be really clever for coming up with this brilliant follow-up question. This would cement myself as the greatest isekai character in all of the genre's history.

The man, Antonin, just stared at me dumbfounded. He almost dropped the other glass he had in his hand with how shocked he appeared. "How-"

"I saw your picture from a while ago, sir!" I shouted, wincing at the effort it took to even raise my voice. "You're not at your gym very often, so I kind of assumed…" I made shit up as I went along. One of the perks of being a trial lawyer is the ability to bluff, I thought. If I were a DnD character, my deception skill would be my only decent one. Plus, I had been reading the fanfiction story called [Catastrophe 23], which also made Giovanni's first name to be Antonin. If I ever got the chance to return to my home world, I made a note to track down the author of that stupid story. Give him a piece of my mind.

Antonin was unmoving, instead just boring his eyes into my own. I could see the gears turning in his head at this unexpected development. This whole inn, the whole facade that he had elaborately set up to distance himself from the Viridian Gym Leader image, it was all for naught now that I had discerned his identity. The ball was in his court, a fact that we were both aware of.

The tense silence was broken by him. He broke out into a weary-looking smile before nodding his affirmation. "Yes, I am Giovanni. Pleased to make your acquaintance," he said, offering his hand.

Not knowing what else to do, I shook it. The best course of action for when you run into a crime boss is to get on his good side as soon as possible. Not that he knew that I knew he was the head of Team Rocket. Probably. Meta knowledge is useful only to the extent that it's true.

"It's an honour to meet you, sir," I said, truthfully. Anyone that's been a fan of Pokémon for as long as I have would be thrilled to meet the primary antagonist for the first generation games. Team Rocket, the silly group from the Kanto titles, was my favourite evil gang out of all of them. Despite this, I was also terrified. This organisation was also the most likely suspect for the recent firebombing that took place in Viridian. I'd have to finesse my way into getting on his good side, or fading away out of his peripheral vision.

"So you were the one to find the Ketchum boy, I presume," Giovanni said. This was another punch to the gut, a turn of events that I had not expected. At my dumbfounded expression, Giovanni just closed his eyes. "While I'm not as active as I used to be, I make a point of staying well-informed. Officer Jenny and the rest of the police force has been keeping tabs on Viridian affairs for me."

He leaned forward. I could smell the scent of something pleasant coming off of his neck. Some high-end perfume, I assumed.

"Anything more you would care to share with me?" he asked me, breaking me out of my musings. "I'm not much of a gym leader, but I'm in charge of keeping an eye out for promising young trainers. Making sure they stay safe and all…" he spoke calmly, but I could sense a hint of sadness underneath his voice.

Was he genuinely upset at the death of the child? For all I knew, Giovanni wasn't even aware of Ash's existence up until much later down the line.

"I told Officer Jenny everything I know!" I said. A little too defensively, but this was getting out of my comfort zone. "I woke up in the middle of the road, where Ash was just lying there. It looked like he was just asleep, but when I checked his pulse…" The rest remained unspoken.

Giovanni was studying me at that point, listening intently. If I were a betting person, I'd guess that he was trying to discern any lies in my words. Not sensing any forthcoming response, I continued my elaborate story.

"I'm from the America region," I said, more anxious this time around. A well-travelled man like Giovanni would be much more difficult to lie to. "I'm from Portland. It's a city on the west coast, the City of Bridges and Roses. I woke up when…" A stroke of genius flashed through me at the last second. "This weird pokémon that I'd never seen before showed up and whisked me away. It looked like it was covered in steel plates. It had dark blue reptilian scales underneath." With my rudimentary art skills, I drew a picture of Dialga on a napkin.

Giovanni gave the napkin a cursory glance, but his eyes were still mostly focused on me. His attention was not on who I was, but rather on my connection to the Ketchum boy. Honestly, I preferred this dynamic. It would give me more of a chance to slip away should the need arise.

"The America region, huh?" Giovanni asked. "You've come a long way then. This is Kanto."

The first thought to come to mind was relief at the thought that Giovanni had taken my story in full stride. The second thought was excitement, knowing that I might be getting away from this unscathed. The third and most important thought was that America appeared to be very much a real region, contrary to everything I knew about the Pokémon Universe.

So in all, the beginning of my time in Kanto was a whirlwind of confusion and tragic circumstances. Ash Ketchum, someone whose story I had been following for years, was dead. Now all that remained was to figure out how the hell I actually ended up here.

As if some deity up in the skies heard me in that moment, my back pocket twitched and heated up uncontrollably. I reached around and my fingers brushed an object that I hadn't noticed was there. Without raising Giovanni's suspicion, I pulled it underneath the stool and took a careful peek.

It was a feather, spotting green white and red colours. An item that I had seen while playing Pokémon Heartgold as a child. The Rainbow Wing.

A/N: Dom Noct, you insufferable and irresponsible bastard! You're going to the military in less than four days, and you're starting ANOTHER story? Have you lost your damned mind? Fear not, my friends. For I can ease your concerns by saying… "Yes. I am indeed a lunatic."

Come on, y'all. I just wanted to write an isekai story. It's not that complicated.