Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon. Any similarities between real people, living or dead, or places, standing or demolished, in this story are just coincidences.

But if you like what I do and want to support me, you are more than welcome to donate on Place of Patrons.

I awoke to the soft murmur of "Pika," only to find Pikachu staring at me with those big, expectant eyes.

"Pikachu?" I muttered, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Suddenly, the realization that yesterday's events weren't a dream hit me like a bolt of lightning. In my shock, I jolted upright, inadvertently sending Pikachu tumbling off the bed.

Yesterday wasn't a dream?!

The smell of ozone snapped me back to the present as Pikachu sparked, clearly startled by the sudden movement.

"S-Sorry, buddy, you startled me. Did you want something?"

"Pika Pi," Pikachu murmured, rubbing his belly in a way that was impossible to misinterpret.

"Okay, buddy, let me just wash up, and then we'll go down to eat," I said, glancing over at Spearow, who was still asleep. There it was, curled up in a ball, one wing draped over its body like a makeshift blanket.

For such an aggressive Pokémon, it sure slept like a cutie.

I shuffled into the bathroom.

Under the cold shower, the chill water cascaded over me, yet it couldn't quench the barrage of questions flooding my mind. I was living a dream—literally stepping into the shoes of a Pokémon trainer, embarking on adventures, befriending Pokémon. The coolness of the water normally soothed me, sharpening my thoughts, but today it only seemed to heighten the surreal reality of my situation.

The mystery of how I ended up here hung over me like a dark cloud. Why was this world so similar to an anime I knew? Was I actually Ash Ketchum, caught in some twisted version of reality? The questions spun in my head, piling onto one another in a dizzying torrent. As the cold water continued its relentless flow, I knew I needed to ground myself.

"No need to worry over questions you won't get answers to," I murmured to the rhythm of the water, trying to shake off the dread. "Let's just enjoy this journey until you get to Sinnoh and meet God."

I snorted at the thought, the absurdity of my situation washing over me as starkly as the icy spray.

How long would it take to reach Sinnoh? I pondered, the water from the shower already turned off, but the cold dampness still clinging to my skin.

If the series progression was anything to go by, and assuming Ash does age—I should be around 16 during the Sinnoh chapter. That means I might be living in the Pokémon world for about six years, assuming I could meet up with Arceus in Sinnoh.

But then, how canon are the Pokémon movies to the anime? That could throw all my calculations off.

"Shit!" I exclaimed, louder than I intended.

I pressed my forehead against the cool bathroom tiles, trying to push back the onslaught of overwhelming thoughts. "I'll deal with this when I get to Sinnoh," I told myself, my voice echoing slightly in the enclosed space. "Let's just enjoy these six years away from school and studying and..." My voice trailed off as I thought of my family. A pang of sadness hit me.

How would they cope without me?

Did they even realize I was gone?

How would they react if I come back?

How would they react if I don't?

I closed my eyes tightly, leaning harder against the tiles, willing myself not to think too much about it.

But another thought crept in, unbidden but inevitable.

Wait, since I am ten and by Sinnoh I'll be 16, that meant going through puberty all over again.

Spearow was jolted awake by a loud scream from the bathroom. Confused, the bird Pokémon turned its head toward the sound, its feathers ruffled. It noticed Pikachu nonchalantly licking ketchup packets and chirped questioningly, "Spear?"

Pikachu, with a ketchup packet hanging from its mouth, gave a casual shrug as if to dismiss the noise.

As I walked through the Pokémon Center, I couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious. A few trainers glanced my way, their eyes curious and slightly amused.

I guess I wasn't your typical trainer yet; everything from my step to my puzzled looks must have screamed 'novice.'

"Oh, good morning," Nurse Joy greeted me with her usual cheerful tone, but her eyes quickly darted up to my head. I reached up and felt wet hair, only to realize that Spearow had decided my head was the perfect spot to make its nest.

"I don't think Spearow is going to pay you for that nest," Nurse Joy chuckled, bringing a smile to my face despite the awkwardness of the situation.

Pikachu tapped my feet to hurry me along. I am getting to it, I murmured to him, then turned back to Nurse Joy.

"Sorry, I'm still new to this Pokémon trainer business."

"Don't worry, you'll do great. Just be patient. Pokémon, like all of us, have their own personalities. Some are easier to work with, and some are harder," Nurse Joy advised kindly.

"Thank you," I replied, feeling genuinely reassured. "I just wanted to ask a few questions." Just then, I felt a tug on my hair. "Spearow, I'll go bald if you keep pulling, and you won't have a nest," I half-joked, half-pleaded.

Spearow paused and seemed to consider this, tucking its wing beneath its beak thoughtfully.

"What were your questions?"

I cleared my throat. "I wanted to ask where the cafeteria is and if I can use the kitchen to make some snacks for my Pokémon."

"Well, the cafeteria is down the hall to the left, and as for the kitchen, you'll need to bring your own ingredients and be in the presence of a slave... I mean, intern," Nurse Joy said, her smile broadening as the three of us—me, Pikachu, and Spearow—sweatdropped at her slip.

"Thank you," I said slowly, processing her instructions.

"How's your back?" she continued, engaging in small talk as she often did to make everyone feel at ease.

"It still hurts somewhat, but I'll manage."

"I'll send you some pain relief ointment," she offered, and I nodded in appreciation.

As I was about to leave, Nurse Joy's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Before you go, I wanted to inform you that your Rattata will be available to pick up in the next hour after Nurse Chansey assesses whether any additional post-treatment observations are necessary."

I nodded, acknowledging her update with a grateful smile.

"Oh, also," she continued, "we got a call from Professor Oak asking about you. He asked that you video call him as soon as possible."

Pulling out my Pokédex, I began searching for any saved contacts.

"Have a nice day," Nurse Joy called out cheerfully as I waved goodbye.

I headed toward the cafeteria, my eyes still on the Pokédex.

As I stepped into the cafeteria, my eyes were drawn to the small garden that opened up at the back. It was a serene spot, with trainers and their Pokémon lounging under small gazebos. The whole scene had a tranquil, almost pastoral vibe that immediately put me at ease.

Pikachu, on the other hand, seemed to have only one thing on its mind as it practically flew towards the food table. There, a tired-looking intern was handing out plated meals—eggs, some berries, toasted bread, and a glass of milk. For the Pokémon, there were bowls filled with what looked like kibble. Finding a quiet spot near the back of the garden, I settled down, preferring the peace and quiet.

As I gazed down at my plate, particularly at the eggs, a curious thought crossed my mind.

Are these made from Pidgey and Spearow eggs?

The anime did show Pokémon as food sources sometimes, but here, I noticed a distinct lack of meat.

Maybe the Pokémon world is like India; they don't use much meat in their cuisine.

The thought of eating Pokémon made me shudder.

Eggs and milk were fine, but eating Pokémon was a line I couldn't cross.

Taking a bite of the egg, I was taken aback. They were the creamiest eggs I'd ever tasted. I almost moaned aloud, the flavor was so rich and delightful. I quickly glanced around, hoping no one noticed my reaction—that would be embarrassing.

"Pika."

The sound snapped me back to reality. I froze as I caught Spearow and Pikachu giving me a look that clearly said, WTF.

As I noticed Spearow and Pikachu slowly eating while giving me a look that clearly hinted at their less-than-thrilled experience with the meal, a flush of embarrassment rose to my cheeks. Desperate to change the subject, I blurted out, "So, how is the weather?"

In the awkward silence that followed, with both Pokémon still eyeing me dubiously, I impulsively picked up a piece of their Pokémon food, hoping to shift the focus. "Are you two enjoying this?" I asked, my voice slightly higher than usual. Then, curiosity getting the better of me and much to the duo's shock, I popped the piece of Pokémon food into my mouth.

It was like eating styrofoam, bland and utterly tasteless. I grimaced.

"This literally tastes like nothing. Do you guys even like this?" Both Pikachu and Spearow shook their heads in agreement.

"Must be some cheap Pokémon food," I muttered, remembering how Ash's Pokémon would devour Brock's delicious meals. Clearly, this was nothing like that.

That's when I remembered the cookbook. "Let's make some real food. What do you say, you two?" I suggested, flipping open the cookbook to a random page. "Frozen yogurt berries covered in chocolate. That sounds..." I trailed off as I saw their mouths watering.

"Let's just quickly eat our breakfast, go to the store, and get some ingredients for the snacks. These seem simple enough to make—just chopped berries mixed with yogurt, frozen, then covered with chocolate, and frozen again. So, roughly two hours to make them," I calculated aloud.

The duo began to devour their kibble-like Pokémon food with renewed vigor, excited for the promised snacks. I chuckled at their enthusiasm and began eating my own breakfast, pulling out my Pokédex almost out of habit, like I used to pull out my phone back on Earth.

This Spearow is male, and his ability is Keen Eye. Currently, this Spearow knows Peck, Leer, Focus Energy, and Fury Attack. The age of this Spearow is one year and two months.

I was surprised.

"He didn't know Fury Attack the other day," I muttered to myself.

Then it hit me— He must've gained enough experience from that scuffle with Team Rocket to learn a new move. I paused, my thoughts racing. Wait, do Pokémon actually gain levels here, or was that just in the game?

The idea of a four-move limit suddenly worried me.

"That would really suck," I whispered, hoping the complexities of the game didn't apply here in the same way.

Thinking it over, I decided I could ask Professor Oak about all this.

My eyes caught a weird symbol on the Pokedex sidebar.

Curious, I swiped, revealing a label that read "Encyclopedia."

Intrigued, I clicked on it, and a video of Professor Oak began to play.

"Hello there, looks like you finally found the secret function of the Pokedex. Well, think of this function as a fun quest. As long as you are able to encounter a Pokémon, their encyclopedia entry will be automatically unlocked for you to read. So enjoy."

I smiled, looking over at Spearow and Pikachu, who had finished eating and were now paying close attention.

"Which one should I play first?" I asked, more to engage them than anything.

"Spearow," one chirped.

"Pikachu," the other buzzed, their voices overlapping as sparks almost flew between them.

"Alright, I'll choose based on who joined the team first," I declared, hoping to settle the mini dispute amicably.

Spearow seemed to accept that reasoning, its glare softening as I selected Pikachu's entry on the Pokedex.

[ Encyclopaedia Entry Number#25 ]

Pikachu are a small species of pokemon which many people find cute, and for this reason have become quite popular as pets, even among people with little interest in pokemon battles. This is an unfortunate fact which leads to many electrocutions, for a Pikachu can be quite dangerous to handle.

Pikachu are a pokemon which store electricity in their cheeks, but this electricity must be released on a semi-regular basis lest the pokemon use powerful electric attacks at random, shocking everything in sight. Typically this is handled by occasionally hooking the rodent up to a special battery which is recharged by its shock, then using the electricity to power the household. Furthermore, they do not only use thundershock to release energy, but also when startled or angry, and they do not have especially forgiving tempers. Many a trainer has been hospitalized or worse when quarreling with their pokemon, some passing away from shock wounds which could have been properly treated were the trainer not embarrassed for how this reflected upon them as a trainer. Moreover there is the issue of weather; Pikachu can seldom be cooped up inside for long, but they are prone to causing nearby people to be electrocuted in rain, and its tail can attract lightning in thunderstorms. Proper care involves the usage of a pokeball in inclement weather, but Pikachu are often reluctant to be so confined. Many inexperienced owners are equally reluctant to use them, fearing it will mark them as pokemon trainers and force them to accept challenges and see their precious Pikachu injured.

Despite this, with a gentle spirit and proper caution, Pikachu can make for excellent pets.

As the encyclopedia entry played, I noticed Pikachu looking nervous, almost afraid. It struck me that despite his sometimes brash demeanor, he really did care. Reaching over, I gently placed my hand on his soft, fuzzy head. "Don't worry, we're going to train every day, so the chance of your random discharge is next to zero, okay?"

"Pika," Pikachu responded, his expression still reflecting uncertainty. I could feel his tension beneath my hand.

"Look, I'll put this special battery on our to-buy list. We'll ask about the price and try to buy it for you, okay?" I assured him. He nodded, his eyes brightening a little with hope.

"Spearow!" came a sudden chirp, loud enough that I had to rub my ear with my pinky.

"Well, aren't you excited?"

[ Encyclopaedia Entry Number#21 ]

When children are too young to train pokemon, their mothers typically give them two pieces of advice: "Don't go into the tall grass" and "under no circumstances make a Spearow mad." It would do more trainers well to heed the second piece of advice, even once they get their first pokemon; alas, many are too hotheaded to listen.

Spearow are a rare and cowardly pokemon, but quick to anger; if a trainer is too weak to capture or kill one they antagonize (and they are quick to anger) a Spearow will call for backup from its friends, and young children who struggle with one of them now battle a whole flock.

Sometimes trainers have already captured an electric, ice, or rock pokemon and can use its type advantage to survive, albeit typically in critical condition and dire need of a pokemon center. Far more often, young trainers are pecked and scratched to death, and their bodies along with those of their pokemon feed the victorious flock for an entire week.

I blinked a few times, lost in thought.

Why does this world feel like it's more than the anime?

This lingering question was interrupted by a Spearow's proud display. The flying type strutted around proudly, puffing out his plumage as if he were the king of the tall grass.

"Well, aren't you the big bad of the tall grass?" I teased, poking Spearow gently. He seemed to bask in my sarcasm, while Pikachu barely held back his laughter.

"Well, let's get going to the snacks," I announced, standing up.

"Pika."

"Spear."

"Are you two nervous?" I asked Pikachu and Spearow as we returned from shopping. The trip had surprisingly set me back 200 Pokédollars for berries, yogurt, chocolates, and some chips.

Pikachu and Spearow didn't seem to care about anything but the snacks, their focus unwavering.

I rolled my eyes at their indifference and released Rattata onto my bed, eager to greet her. "Hello ther—"

Before I could finish, I found myself on the ground, pain flaring across my face. I blinked in shock, trying to process what had just happened. "Pika?!" came Pikachu's alarmed cry, electricity crackling around him in the tense air.

In the chaos, Spearow, perhaps trying to defend me or simply reacting to the sudden violence, launched into action. He used Peck as he flew at Rattata, who agilely jumped aside at the last moment. With no time to correct his trajectory, Spearow's peck continued onward, striking the window instead of Rattata. The glass shattered with a loud crash, sending shards flying as the window broke apart under the force of the attack.

"Stop it!" I yelled, scrambling to my feet. My initial anger faded quickly as I saw Rattata cowering in the corner, her tiny body trembling and her eyes wide with fear.

She looked utterly terrified.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Nurse Joy rushed in with a Chansey by her side. "Look, I'm sorry about the window, I didn't realize Rattata would react like that, and—" I started to explain, but Nurse Joy cut me off.

"That's not important, you're bleeding," she said with a tone of urgency.

Confused, I touched my face and flinched at a sharp sting. Turning to the mirror, I saw blood trickling down from my nose, which was unmistakably broken.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Rattata making a break for it. Acting quickly, I pulled out her Pokéball and recalled her back before she could get far.

A few minutes later, Nurse Joy had treated my broken nose. She expertly adjusted the splint, explaining in her calm, professional tone, "Okay, so the fracture is clean and should heal nicely as long as you're careful not to stress it further. It's just a simple fracture, nothing displaced, so you're quite lucky in that regard."

As she packed away her medical supplies, I mustered the courage to ask the question that had been gnawing at me.

"So, uh, how much do I owe for the window?" I asked, my voice tinged with anxiety as I looked down, regretting not having managed the situation better.

Of course, Rattata acted in self-defense. She was barely surviving before I captured her. She doesn't know any better.

Nurse Joy gave me a reassuring smile. "I think I can give a hero a one-time pass."

I sighed with relief, gratitude washing over me. "Thank you, but what should I do with Rattata?"

"Can you show me her Pokéball?" Nurse Joy requested.

I handed it over, and to my surprise, she twisted the front button. The reddish top began to fade, revealing a miniature Rattata inside. My mouth fell open in astonishment.

That's like something from the Pokémon manga! I thought, rubbing my eyes in disbelief.

"Talk to her," Nurse Joy advised simply, handing back the Pokéball. "I need to go and do my job now," she added before departing.

An awkward silence hung in the air as I stared at the transparent Pokéball, baffled by its mechanics. How was this even possible? The soft squeak from inside the Pokéball pulled me from my thoughts.

"Ratta!" The sound echoed, small but clear.

"You pack quite the punch," I said, noticing Rattata eyeing Pikachu warily.

Pikachu's glare didn't help the tension.

"Don't worry, he's just concerned about what happened last time," I reassured her, though Pikachu's ears spiked up.

Rattata shivered slightly, clearly scared.

"Pikachu, let's not blame her," I urged gently. "She was just scared in a new environment."

"Pika," Pikachu complained, still not convinced.

"Last time I checked, you shocked me when we first met."

Pikachu huffed and turned away, while I turned back to Rattata. "Look, we got off on the wrong foot last time. Let's start over. My name is Austin, and I'm your new trainer." I smiled, trying to make the term 'trainer' sound as friendly as possible.

Rattata's face twisted in confusion at first. "Trainer... like we go on adventures, we battle, we eat..." I explained, pausing as I noticed a spark of interest light up her face.

"Do you want to eat?" I asked softly, and her response was immediate. Her eyes widened, and her tiny body leaned forward eagerly, her tail twitching in anticipation.

"Okay, I'm going to release you and give you some berries, but you have to promise not to try to run away, okay?" After a hesitant nod, I opened the Pokéball and Rattata stepped out, more composed than before. I picked a handful of berries from the bag and held them out to her. Rattata approached cautiously, sniffed the berries, and then began nibbling. Watching her eat from the palm of my hand, her little nose twitching with each bite, filled me with a warmth I hadn't expected.

Suddenly, a loud screech broke our peaceful moment. I turned to see Spearow, his beak glowing, ready to peck at Rattata. "Spearow, stand down or no snacks for you." The threat of missing out on treats was enough. Spearow's posture relaxed, and he settled down begrudgingly. I looked back at Rattata, who was still nibbling berries contentedly.

"Don't worry, as long as I am here, you'll be safe," I promised her sincerely.

Spearow and Pikachu seemed taken aback by my promise.

"Are you okay?" I asked the tired intern helping me in the kitchen. His pink hair was disheveled, and shadows under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion.

"Yes, now what will you be using? Dehydrator? Freeze Dryer? Or..." he trailed off, barely keeping his eyes open.

"Why would I need to use those?" I glanced over at Pikachu, Spearow, and Rattata, who were all gazing around the kitchen in awe. The room was a culinary wonderland, with gleaming surfaces and every gadget imaginable, yet it all felt a bit overwhelming.

"You freeze-dry or dehydrate fruit and other things for when you go on the road. They last longer," he explained, stifling a yawn.

I nodded, mentally adding yet another item to my growing list of things to learn.

Okay, at this point, I am convinced Brock was Ash's plot armor.

"Well, I'm just going to be making some snacks with a double boiler and a freezer," I told him.

The intern's eyes widened as if I'd just revealed some ancient secret. "You are the Messiah," he blurted out, a hint of awe in his tired voice.

"What?"

"I'm going to sleep," he declared, already turning away.

"Wait, aren't you supposed to help?" I asked, slightly panicked at the thought of handling all this alone.

"You are the False Messiah," he muttered.

"Okay, man, just go to sleep."

The intern staggered a few steps and then, unbelievably, collapsed onto the floor in a heap, fast asleep.

"Thank you, oh great saint," he mumbled into the tile, completely out for the count.

I sighed, turning back to my Pokémon just in time to see Pikachu on the floor, having narrowly saved a cup from crashing down. The little electric mouse looked up at me with an 'oops' expression on his face.

I really need to get Brock to join me as soon as possible.

As I flipped through the pages of The Physics of Pokémon: Understanding Their Moves by Professor Magnolia, I came across an interesting section about the different types of Pokémon moves.

Instinctive Moves — These are moves that a Pokémon instinctively knows but requires the catalyst of a battle to, in layman's terms, 'unlock'. It's like they have these moves lying dormant until the heat of battle triggers them.

I nodded to myself, thinking of Spearow's recent battle where it seemed to suddenly know Fury Attack.

Egg Moves — These moves awaken in Pokémon due to interspecies breeding. They are passed down from parents to offspring, sometimes resulting in moves that a Pokémon wouldn't normally learn.

That concept was a bit tricky to wrap my head around, but it was incredible to think about the genetic memories being passed down like that.

Tutor Moves — A phenomenon known as 'Pokémon Mimetics' shows that Pokémon can teach some of their moves to other species. This can be replicated by professional move tutors, who help Pokémon learn moves outside their natural set."

"Pokémon Mimetics," I murmured, trying to grasp the concept.

TM Moves — TM, or Technical Machine, moves were created by Orrean scientist Konrad Zuse. He discovered that many Pokémon have vestigial organs that allow them to learn moves that their species naturally can't. The first successful TM was created in 1941 when an Eevee was taught the move 'Stored Power' using a combination of psychic type Pokémon and engineering."

I blinked, the term "Orrean" catching my attention.

'Orre? Isn't that the Pokémon region where Pokémon XD: Gale of Darkness took place?'

I thought to myself, my excitement bubbling. That was one of my favorite games.

A wave of nostalgia hit me, but it also sparked a flicker of worry—could Team Cipher become a problem for me in the future?

"Pika."

Pikachu's gentle pat on my leg snapped me back to the present moment. He pointed at the clock with his tiny paw, reminding me of our current task.

"Okay, let's see if the snacks are done." I put the book down and turned to the kitchen, feeling the trio's excited eyes on me as I pulled out a plate of freshly made snacks. I picked one up and took a bite; the rich, smooth chocolate melted immediately on my tongue. Beneath that, the cold, creamy yogurt offered a refreshing contrast, followed by a burst of sweet, tangy berries that filled my senses with a delightful flavor explosion.

Handing a snack to each of my Pokémon, I watched them eat, their enjoyment evident in their eager munching. For a moment, I allowed myself to just enjoy this simple pleasure with them.

A proverb floated through my mind: Cross the bridge when you come to it.

Focus on what's directly in front of you, I reminded myself. Talk to Professor Oak and Delia, sort out your budget, devise a training plan, and get through those books. Michael and Wes can handle Team Cipher if that ever becomes an issue. Right now, you have your own path to tread.

I settled into the communication room, surrounded by vintage 90s computers that hummed softly with age. Each bulky, beige monitor was encased within small partitioned walls, offering a semblance of privacy in this quaint setup. Nervously, I muttered to myself, Okay, you got this, as I powered on the computer and dialed the number.

After a few rings, a familiar voice answered, "Hello, this is the Ketchum residence." The video feed remained off initially.

"Hello, Mom?" I ventured, feeling a pang of guilt for the pretense.

A cry of joy burst through the speakers, making me wince before Delia's face appeared on the screen. "Hi honey, is everything okay?" she asked, her image finally coming into view. I was taken aback as I saw her casually curling 50-pound dumbbells, her arms toned and her expression focused. I never expected Delia Ketchum, the gentle and caring mother from the show, to be so... athletic.

"Where are you, Ash?" she asked.

"The Pokémon Center in Viridian City," I replied, still trying to reconcile this new image of her.

"You're already in Viridian City?" Delia sounded impressed and pleased. "It took your father four days to get there when he started Pokémon training. Oh, he'll be so proud. You're the apple of his eye."

Father? I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. "Is there a way for me to talk to him?" The question slipped out, driven by a lifetime of curiosity about who Ash's dad was.

"Sorry, honey, you know how busy he is," Delia responded, her tone slightly forced, hinting at more beneath the surface, but I didn't press further.

"Well, next time you talk to dad, tell him that I am doing alright," I managed to say, looking down to hide the swirl of emotions. It felt so surreal calling someone else 'mom' and 'dad.'

"Ash, I am proud of you, and I want you to know that your father is also proud of you," Delia said, her smile broad and genuine.

Hmm, was all I could muster in response.

"I have to call Professor Oak. I shouldn't keep him waiting," I added quickly, feeling the need to wrap up the conversation.

"I love you," Delia said warmly.

The words hit me harder than expected, creating a lump in my throat. "Me too," I replied softly, before hanging up. As I disconnected, I sat back, the weight of the conversation settling around me.

This world, these connections—they were becoming more real with each passing moment, and I was right in the middle of it all, struggling to navigate through my own unexpected journey.

Ring Ring Ring

"Hello there, Professor."

"Ah! Ash, my boy. How is your journey going?"

"Who is this?"

"Don't you recognize me?"

"I would if I wasn't looking at the back of your head," I quipped, watching as Professor Oak fumbled with the camera, his back still facing me. His sudden scramble to adjust the setup had me stifling a chuckle until he finally turned around, looking a bit sheepish.

"Looks like you made it to Viridian City," he noted, trying to regain his composure.

"Yeah, I was curious why you called the Pokémon Center?" I asked, leaning closer to the screen, genuinely intrigued.

"I was checking to see your progress since I am your sponsor," Professor Oak explained, his tone serious now. I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

Sponsor?

That was a new bit of information.

"And I had my doubts that you would be able to handle your Pikachu, but when my grandson said that you wouldn't have a new Pokémon by the time you get to Viridian City, I bet him 1,000 Pokédollars that he'd be wrong."

"You won that bet," I said with a slight smile, feeling a bit of pride as I added, "I caught two Pokémon—Rattata and Spearow."

Professor Oak's laughter filled the room, his face lighting up. "Well done—A Spearow?" His expression shifted to concern. "That Pokémon is hard for new trainers to handle."

"We'll see," I responded, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

"Confidence, that's good to see."

"Professor, I had a few questions on my mind. Do you mind if you could answer them?"

"Ask away."

"Can Pokémon use more than four moves?"

"Of course, why do you ask?" Professor Oak tilted his head, his expression curious.

"Well, I saw this Pokémon match, and they only used four moves," I replied, leaning back slightly and fabricating a little to steer the conversation.

"That's because the Pokémon League rules limit each Pokémon to four moves, making the battles more strategic," Professor Oak explained. I nodded, absorbing this new piece of information.

"Any other questions?"

"Ah, yes, when you say you are my sponsor, what does that mean exactly?" I inquired, genuinely puzzled by the term.

"You weren't paying attention during the lecture, were you?" Professor Oak chuckled, and I could only offer a nervous laugh in response.

"Okay, being a sponsored trainer is pretty straightforward. I give you access to the Oak Lab's ranch, and the League provides you with a monthly stipend of 10,000 Pokédollars to use as you see fit," he detailed.

My jaw dropped—literally.

"But what's the catch?"

"The catch is that you're considered an active trainer who operates on my behalf and represents me in official tournaments while conducting your own adventures. Essentially, you get paid to battle and bring prestige to the lab, and the better you perform, the more substantial the grants I receive from the League, and the bigger your stipend becomes," he continued.

"But what if someone doesn't want to battle?" I asked, curious about the flexibility of this arrangement.

"You, of all people, don't want to battle?" Professor Oak raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

"No, no, no," I quickly clarified, realizing how it sounded. "I just recently found out how expensive it is to be a trainer, plus I plan to catch a lot of Pokémon, so a big stipend would be really helpful," I explained, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly.

"Wow, I didn't expect you to start changing in just a day. The Ash of yesterday wouldn't have even bothered with this stuff," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"The League's stipend can primarily be increased through your contributions to lab research or through gaining prestige in battles. However, that's not something you need to concern yourself with immediately. Managing six Pokémon with the 10K Pokédollars monthly stipend should be quite feasible. If you find yourself catching more Pokémon than you can comfortably manage, you can always send the extras to the ranch," Oak said.

I nodded, processing everything. But a question nagged at me. "Wouldn't sending my extra Pokémon to the ranch affect your finances?"

Oak paused, looking momentarily taken aback. "Oh, you don't know."

"Know what?"

"The ranch generates revenue by selling by-products from Pokémon. For example, we store Pikachu's electricity in batteries; Tauros's fur can be harvested and sold; Miltank provides Moomoo Milk, and so forth," he explained, and suddenly, it all clicked for me.

"Professor Oak, I've read that many people need a second job alongside being a low-level trainer. Why don't more people get into this ranch business?"

"That's because trainers aren't exactly paid in cash; the ranch simply takes care of your Pokémon in exchange for the ownership of these by-products," he clarified.

"Okay, last question. You mentioned a 10K stipend."

"Yes."

"So, where's my money?"

"In your bank account."

As I left the bank with 5,000 Pokédollars in my pocket and headed for the Poké Mart to stock up on essentials, I flipped open Pokémon Training for Dummies by Jane Peters. I couldn't help but feel the curious glances from passersby, so I focused on the book to shake off the attention.

The first section of the book outlined the core staples of training any Pokémon: Knowledge, Diet, and Rest. Curious, I skipped the part about diet for now—I was more interested in what the book described as the type of training specific to each Pokémon.

The book detailed:

A Pokémon's capabilities can be categorized into specific stats based on their physiology and the average abilities inherent to their species.

It listed several stats:

- Health Points (HP) or Stamina: How much damage a Pokémon can receive before fainting.

- Attack: Often referred to as Physical Attack, this stat partly determines how much damage a Pokémon deals using a physical move.

- Defense: Also known as Physical Defense, this influences how much damage a Pokémon receives when hit with a physical move.

- Special: This is divided into Special Attack and Special Defense, determining the impact of and resistance to special moves.

- Speed: Encompasses the Pokémon's ability to dodge, move, and attack quickly.

I continued reading, intrigued.

"Every Pokémon species has been scientifically shown to have an affinity towards one of these stats. For example, an average Pikachu will always be quicker than it is durable. Therefore, when training, exercises related to enhancing speed should be prioritized over those that increase stamina."

The book included a table that mapped out which species were better suited for what type of training. I scanned the list, noting where each Kanto Pokémon, minus the legendaries, fell.

"Okay, so in the games, stats are like actual numbers, but here, they're more about a Pokémon's natural capabilities... and I should model my training regimens after these," I realized, nodding to myself. It was a fascinating new angle on how to approach training with Pikachu, Spearow, and Rattata.

"Pika!" Pikachu's tone, filled with awe and curiosity, pulled me from the depths of my book. I glanced up and blinked a few times, readjusting to my surroundings.

A passerby caught my eye, prompting me to ask, "Excuse me, but is that the Poké Mart?"

The man pointed at the large sign above a massive building, his expression friendly but amused. I muttered a quick thanks and tried to ignore the flush of embarrassment warming my cheeks. From the outside, the building looked like a Pokémon world version of Costco—massive and bustling.

Walking inside, the resemblance only grew stronger.

The place was vast, with high ceilings and rows upon rows of shelves stocked with everything a Pokémon trainer might need. There were standard items like toys, treats, grooming kits, and various blends of food. More specialized merchandise included fire retardant, hydrophobic, or slash/puncture-resistant pet beds. At the front, behind the checkout counters, a wide glass case displayed the really familiar items—Pokéballs, potions, and metal cubes?

The various aisles were cleverly divided by Pokémon type; with Electric being one of the first, I steered down that aisle first. Grabbing a cart, I placed Pikachu inside, earning a chirp of delight from him as I began navigating through the aisle, pulling out my shopping list.

It was simple—Pikachu's special battery, a lot of food for dehydration, and a basic grooming kit. I paused at the 'League recommended' omnivore Pokémon food blend, my nose wrinkling in distaste as I read the vague description on the back of a smaller bag. Shaking my head, I looked back at Pikachu, who seemed quite content sitting in the cart.

"Nah. I'll just make the food myself," I decided.

As we approached the final stop at the bookshelf, I grabbed a copy of Under the Stars: A Modern Guide to Camping by Emma Clarkson. Feeling well-prepared, Pikachu and I made our way to the checkout. The teen girl behind the counter, clad in a blue apron adorned with a Pokéball logo, quickly stashed away a magazine as we approached. She flashed a practiced, wide smile.

"Find everything okay?"

"Just fine, thanks," I responded, glancing back at the glass case filled with what looked like glowing cubes.

"What are those?"

"TMs," she replied casually as she scanned my items.

"Can I buy one?"

"Hmm." The girl pulled out a card and explained that they had eight different TMs.

My eyes widened when I saw the price tag; the cheapest TM was 20K.

I didn't even bother checking what moves they contained.

I can only imagine what sort of hell it must be to be low-income and wanting to be a trainer. I should thank Professor Oak, I thought grimly.

My gaze then drifted to an advertisement for the Silph Co. bag, which apparently used the same tech as a Pokéball to carry more stuff. It was priced at 8K, payable in instalments at any Poké Mart.

"Which aisle is the Silph Co. bag in?"

"Wow, that's some gift," the girl remarked, looking impressed.

"It's not a gift, but why did you say that?"

"No, it's weird to waste money on a Silph Co. bag when you already have one," she said.

"Pardon?" I asked, confused as I took off my backpack.

"Oh, you didn't turn it on." She tapped the grommet on the bag, and suddenly, the weight of the bag became non-existent. "How?" I stammered, my mind racing.

"Same with the Pokéballs—whole matter to energy and space expanding... thing?" She tried to explain, her hand waving vaguely. "I don't really understand it, but it's bigger on the inside than outside. Somehow."

Physics be damned then.

"Your total is 5,600 Pokédollars," she announced, snapping me back to the present.

"Is there like a first-time discount?" I asked, offering my best hopeful smile, with Pikachu doing his part by looking irresistibly cute beside me.

I had just returned to the Pokémon Center when I was greeted by a commotion at the front. Misty was there, visibly upset and practically screaming. Concerned, I ran up to her.

"Are you okay?" I asked, trying to gauge the severity of the situation.

Misty turned to me, frustration clear in her expression. "Team Rocket stole my bike!"

I almost laughed at the irony—her bike saga seemed to be a recurring theme. But I managed to keep a straight face. "Uh, I'm sure Officer Jenny will get it back."

"I know, but I was planning on just riding through Viridian Forest as fast as I could," Misty said, crossing her arms.

I shrugged sympathetically. "Well, I hope you get it back soon," I said, preparing to leave.

As I turned to go, a thought crossed my mind.

Should I ask her to go on a journey with me? The idea lingered for a moment, but then I quickly dismissed it. I'd rather not, I decided after a few seconds. Especially through Viridian Forest with her bug phobia.

After hours immersed in the books on camping and training—undoubtedly some of the most fascinating reading I'd ever encountered—I couldn't imagine finding these topics boring. If I had, I would have questioned my sanity because learning how to navigate this entirely different world where Pokémon were my companions was anything but mundane. My eyes felt heavy, and my brain felt like it was swimming through molasses.

"Tta!" The tiny squeak drew my attention away from the books. I turned to see Pikachu, Rattata, and Spearow looking equally tired and sleepy.

"Why don't you three go to sleep? I just have two more pages to read and note down," I suggested, hoping to finish up quickly.

Spearow, however, had other ideas. He fluttered over and pecked at my hand gently.

"Okay, okay, I'll go to sleep, jeez," I yawned, sliding into bed, my eyelids drooping almost instantly.

But just as I was about to drift off, I felt a weight on my stomach and a tickling sensation by my side. I opened my eyes to see Pikachu, curled up like a tiny, breathing ball. Rattata was nestled to the right of my head.

Spearow, on the other hand, was perched near the still-broken window, giving me a look that seemed to say, 'You thought I would sleep beside you? Think again.'

I chuckled softly, the sound muffled by the quiet of the room. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you two just wanted me to sleep so you could use me as your bed," I whispered, half-joking.

Carefully, I adjusted Pikachu to my left side and Rattata to my right, ensuring they were comfortable.

"That's better," I murmured, settling back and staring up at the ceiling.

In that quiet moment, a wave of emotion washed over me. "You know, my dream was always to be right here, just like this—to be a trainer, to have Pokémon of my own," I said softly. The warmth of Pikachu and Rattata snuggling closer into my arms was more comforting than any blanket.

"Thank you for being my friends."

My eyelids began to close slowly, heavy with sleep, but fluttered open momentarily at the sound of wings. I turned to see Spearow settling on the foot rail of the bed, still looking out as if guarding us.

"Good night."

[ Author Note: ] First off, I want you all to know that the Pokédex encyclopedia portion of the story does not originally belong to me. I am essentially using a fan-made Pokédex.

The original fanfic Pokédex by Birdboy is outstanding—check out their work; it's short yet amazing. [Birdboy's Fanfic]

I had sent them a PM requesting permission to use their Pokédex as part of my fanfic.

A few months back, I was given permission by Birdboy, so I happily included the Pokédex into the story with many wild things happening due to it.

As you saw in the chapter where Austin bought a special battery for Pikachu's electric discharges.

Anyway, I was going to include a screenshot of the permission as proof, but when I was checking my PMs, I couldn't find it—but I swear I got said permission.

Recently, I sent Birdboy another DM request but haven't received a response.

So, until I do, this author's note will be here as a disclaimer.

I am sure Birdboy would give his permission, and I'll obviously share the screenshot as proof.

But if they request me to take it down, I will inform you, the readers, and then delete it after a couple of days. That is my promise to them if they wish. By deleting, I mean I'll delete Birdboy's version and replace it with my own. Why didn't I bother writing my own? Frankly, I really love Birdboy's Pokédex and wanted to add the cool lore that Birdboy created into this fanfic of mine.

Thank you for your support and for enjoying my work. I upload every 7 days.

I hope you have a blessed rest of the day, and please share your thoughts in the reviews!