Note: Hi, you might have noticed that the story got deleted a while back (2023-10-07). That wasn't an accident, I uploaded the 3rd chapter but it bugged out and didn't appear, and the UI wouldn't update the story for some reason and put it up there or whatever. I wasn't sure if uploading a fourth chapter would have fixed it, but that one wasn't finished yet at the time. Still isn't as of today, so I decided start my drafts for the next few chapters before I reuploaded the story.
Sorry if I worried you or anything. I should get back to the feel of things soon enough. Still got my exams looming over.
This is a proof of concept with a premise that slapped me in the face a while back. More or less, I don't expect much out of this, but I'll try my best. It's not like this is the first Zorua Ash story, anyway. I think I've counted 8 so far…
Most of them never went past Kanto. Like most Pokémon fanfics. And probably this one, too.
The story begins with a floating psychic cat that happened to be pink. Flying aimlessly around the south of the Kanto region, drifting in search of something to entertain it.
As you can imagine, it was more than a little bored.
Having spent several decades keeping the area safe from outward threats, it felt like it could use a little entertainment. Being in the right place at the right time all the time, helping prepare so many other people to do its job instead, or just being the sole good guy for a long time was already pretty dull.
If there was anything it wanted to do most, it was to toss a wrench in the machine just to see what would happen. It was bored being the only responsible Pokemon strong and mobile enough to do all of these jobs or what have you.
It floated down, just over a river. The Mew moved its head down to drink some water until it heard cries for help far away from the stream. It looked to its east and was shocked at what was happening.
Having noticed a Celebi running away from some unseen threat, it sees it trying its hardest to dodge projectiles left and right. Alarmed, it moves to help it get away but could only watch curiously as it steps through another portal, a young boy wearing a red cap and a Pikachu helping it jump in. They, too, jumped after the Celebi, barely dodging some men holding flashlights coming after them.
Highly concerned, the Mew made moves to give chase, but stopped after hearing a noise next to it. It looked to its side to see another Celebi holding a sign telling it not to give chase. The sign even had a stick figure drawn to gesture no at it. The Celebi disappeared just after, but not before finally dropping some inspiration the Mew was looking for.
A white and red fox mask that looked oddly similar to a Zoroark was left behind just floating where it was earlier. It was left to wonder if the Celebi had been given orders to shuffle the cards from higher up, thereby choosing the Mew as the arbiter of the matter. A bright flash banged near the Mew, and, shocked, camouflaged itself and started flying away from the forest to avoid getting caught in the action.
Having received its commission, it decided to tie the mask around its neck. Leaping up into the sky, the Mew zoomed across the stratosphere. It flew through the sea near the Seafoam Islands, and over the Cinnabar volcano, and it finally arrived at Pallet Town just a few moments later. It had used its skills in Tailwind to great effect, allowing the Mew to arrive there that much faster.
The Mew hadn't visited this place in a long time. Not since first visiting the young Samuel Oak as a child in his bedroom several decades ago. Helping inspire him into becoming a Pokémon Trainer and eventually the premiere Pokémon Professor of the Kanto region was one of a few things it could be proud of doing.
The thought made the Mew pause, its large eyes looking at the laboratory just a short fly away as if to consider doing something else. Then it shrugs, continuing its course to its primary destination.
Flicking its vision toward some specific homes, it finally found its mark. An unassuming house on the hill near a local diner, the windows closed but the tables outside still unpacked. It hovers slowly near the building, taking care not to wake any of its residents.
It flies into a child's bedroom in the dead of night, floating around and taking in the sights. An archetypal example of a young boy's bedroom, it could surmise. The room had posters of famous Pokemon trainers and cartoon characters on the walls all over the place, and the television set also had a game console from 20 years ago. His parents decided to entrust him with their childhood memories, it seemed…
There was also a school bag with a patch sewn onto it next to the television, possessing the logo of a baseball team just a few prefectures away. Expired coupons for a fast-food restaurant poked out of one of its pouches.
Looking for the bed, it finally found the bedroom's owner. Moving closer, it pokes the sick boy breathing heavily in his sleep. And wearing a hat. For some reason, he wore it even into the night…
That same poke made the hat fall off, but Mew's psychic energies kept it from falling off the bed completely. The hat began resting on his chest, his hand instinctively grabbing onto it even in his sleep.
Giggling, it pokes the lad, and with some focused energy leaves the dubious gift in the hands of the boy with the snap of a finger. The boy's forehead began glowing, even as he continued sleeping heavily.
Then it flies away, leaving the window open for the midnight gales to rock the curtains.
This would normally be the part where the lad turns into the magical illusionary fox, telepathic fighter jet dragon, or another psychic cat. Whether in the bedroom itself, in the presence of family, or the vicinity of the local professor. It happened to be the magic fox, this time.
But the boy was drifting back and forth in his sleep heavily, having caught a particularly bad flu just a few days earlier.
The condition was particularly bad enough that he could only sleep in certain positions, and coughing excessively could make his throat bleed.
Nonetheless, the magic began working its way around his body, slowly but surely fixing his condition. Despite this, the boy's heartbeat started beating erratically, and may as well have stopped just a few short moments after.
It hadn't, actually, but anyone not paying close enough attention would not realize the extent of the enchantment. The powers that be would do just enough to keep him alive, and that included a nigh imperceptible difference between being alive and dead.
Unbeknownst to him, something else stirred inside of him. With a loud yawn, a gray and white vulpine spirit drifted out of the body and continued sleeping in just the same position he was already in. It fell off the bed a few moments later, the hat following after him.
The spirit of the boy continued to doze off regardless, none the wiser of his current state.
And thus, the story begins…
Delia Ketchum woke up at 8 AM sharp, even on the weekends. It was mostly out of habit at this point even if she didn't open her doors during Saturdays and Sundays.
Stretching and yawning, she walked down the stairs to make that day's breakfast.
Firing up the oven, she took some bacon and eggs from the fridge and smeared a drizzle of oil on the pan. Making breakfast for just two became an easy enough habit even with her husband's busy work schedule in the big city leaving her largely unequipped to handle raising their son mostly by herself.
With some practiced hands, she slid the bacon and eggs on two separate plates, one for him and her. And so, she waited patiently for the normally excitable boy to amble down the stairs.
He'd caught a particularly bad cold just after his time at the summer camp at Professor Oak's had ended, and now he's handling it pretty badly. It took a few long sighs and some babying on her end to goad him into finally taking his medicine.
Not that she could find it in her to blame him, anyway, but that was the beauty of raising a kid. She would do everything for him.
She looked at the clock to her right and sighed, the hour hand just passing the 10 O'clock mark. Tapping her foot to a rhythm, she shook her head with a smile.
It seemed like she had to bring a plate upstairs for the second time this week. She knew what she had to do.
Looking for one of the serving trays she procured from her diner, she put her empty plate on the sink to be washed later and his son's on the serving tray with a spoon and fork.
The food was still warm, but the toast had warmed up over the past hour. Pulling something from a medicine cabinet, she procured the medicine for that morning. She had a glass of water, a Fluimucil tablet on a smaller saucer, and whatever cough medicine the doctor prescribed for him in a bottle.
Putting them all on the serving tray, she walked up the stairs, her feet creaking the wooden steps. Her movements were quick but methodical, making sure not to spill even a drop of water.
Putting one hand on the railings to keep her balance, she shouted at him. "Ash, wake up! It's morning." She continued walking up all the while. "Breakfast is ready!"
No response. She breathed in. "Must still be tuckered out from yesterday…"
Delia continued walking up the stairs to the bedroom door, putting the tray of food on one of the hallway tables. She knocked on the door.
"Ash! I'm sorry for waking you up, but it's getting closer to noon. I wouldn't want you missing breakfast, just so you know!" She gestured to the plate. "I also got you plenty of bacon this time!"
She bowed her head down, looking at the gap between the door and the floor. There was a glow of daylight, meaning that either he'd already woken up and left the windows open or they were simply left open last night.
"Hmm? Normally he'd wake up from that. Can't see a reason for him to sneak out at this hour either…" She whispered to herself. His condition meant he'd wake up from the noises outside, so she was thankful the medicines made it that much easier for him to fall asleep.
She knocked a few more times. And yet again no response, not even a groan or shifting of bedsheets. Tilting her head to the side, she ignored the feeling of dread growing in her stomach.
After what felt like an eternity, she twisted the knob open.
She walked into his room, noticing the window open and the daylight shining through, wind fluttering the curtains. She's a little surprised a Spearow or Pidgey didn't decide to pay a visit or whatever.
"Ash…?" Pacing herself, she looked left or right around his room for anything out of the ordinary, and it seemed like there weren't any.
She took the tray of food and walked in slowly. Looking for an empty table, she walked over to a chest and left her tray on its flat top.
Walking slowly to her son's bed, she smiled at the drool crawling down from his mouth and took a photo for posterity's sake. Slowly unfurling the blanket over him, she sat on the bed. Taking the boy's League Expo Hat from the floor next to the bed frame, she placed it over the countertop next to him.
The moments she could just sit down like this were so very precious. If there were any silver linings to the past 7 years she had with him, it was that no matter how annoying and loud he could be, she would always be his mother.
"Ash, come on now." She smiled. "It's morning. I brought you your breakfast." Tapping him, she frowns.
Noticing something off, she puts her hand on his neck, dread growing as she notices that no matter where she put her hands, he would simply not have a pulse. His stomach wouldn't go up or down either. More than anything else it didn't even seem like he had a heartbeat.
"Ash…? Ash, come on, this isn't funny, wake up." She pleaded, her desperation budding. "Ash, please wake up."
She put her head near his chest to listen for a heartbeat or signs of breathing, but simply could not find any. Her hands raised over her mouth, tears falling from her eyes. She choked out a sob.
She couldn't find it in herself to accept this sudden turn of events because she just wasn't prepared. She couldn't possibly have expected her first and only son to die of the flu, because it just seemed like nonsense.
It seemed like he was starting to recover just the day before. And even she wouldn't have expected him to pass in his sleep. She pulled a chair to sit down and contemplate, tears continuing to fall.
Having finally awoken, the fox kit sleeping on the floorboards stretched and scratched itself. Oddly enough, he found himself sleeping on the floor again. He might not have noticed it at first, but he didn't like it anyway since it made his back hurt.
An ear twitching towards his bed, he could hear the sounds of his mother desperately pleading for him to wake up. The boy wasn't sure why. He was down here, wasn't he? She just had to move over a little bit and see him sprawled on the ground or whatever.
In any case, he gave out a loud yawn and continued scratching his head. Finishing, and shaking himself just after, he turned around to stare at his mother sitting on his chair and tilted his head.
He raised an eyebrow, then walked over to her. His paws poked at her ankle, hoping to get her attention. It didn't change much as she continued to stare deep down at the bed, even if she mostly tried to stop shaking whatever was on his bed.
He poked her a few more times and couldn't get her attention. Frustration built up in him, and he growled. A shadowy figure began to build up above the boy and something appeared.
As if on instinct, a transparent illusion of the catatonic body stood up and started poking his mother on the back. The shadow behind her startled Delia Ketchum, and she looked behind her. Her eyes stared disbelievingly at the sight.
Her heart stopped beating for the briefest of moments, and her breathing stilled to a chill. The spirit of her son? No, she couldn't be so silly, he just woke up already and she'd just daydreamed the body on the bed.
She waved hi to the boy standing before her and looked back down to find the body still there.
She looked at the figure behind her again, then back to the body. The doors to her soul became pinpricks, a silent scream aching to come out. And she did, in fact, scream.
Startled at the reaction, the Zorua jumped up and on the bed, the illusion popping. He yipped at the sight of his mother, tail wagging at her even as she paced back and forth.
She looked back at where the figure once was, and the cold feeling in her gut came crawling back. It wasn't there anymore, but the body was on the bed just the same.
"It… It can't be… This isn't happening to me." The ghastly image of her son left her legs too weak to support her, and they left her sitting on the cold hardwood floor.
Gulping harder and blinking away some more tears that decided to fall, she twitched violently. Her hands shivered, but she could barely ball them up to fists. Though about to make a call to her husband on the mobile, only then did she notice the diminutive fox Pokemon with a thick mane of white and gray hair with red streaks, walking up to her on her son's bed.
It looked longing and concerned. It was absurdly adorable. And it also had a very familiar pair of brown eyes, a pair that she had seen in the mirror every day since she was a child.
The resemblance was very uncanny, actually.
She began to connect the dots, and even past the insanity of the proposition, could only consider the possibilty. She had seen the same fox just below the image of her son in her peripheral vision, and her mouth was left open agape. She struggled to stand up, walking slowly to the white fox kit. Its face started to look more and more concerned as she did.
Her arm stretched, pointing at it. She asked it a question. "Ash, are you… is that you?" She certainly hoped she could get the message out to him, and for him to not simply be a completely feral Pokemon.
The fox tilted its head at the odd question and nodded, jumping as it did so. His mother, mouth shaking, couldn't process the response, and sat back down at the chair. After what felt like an eternity, with a wordless flick to get her phone, she texted a message to Samuel Oak and moved to get some things for an impromptu trip to his lab.
The mother rushed down the stairs, leaving the food, medicine, and glass of water behind. Ash could only walk out after her, blinking in confusion.
He looked down the stairs and shrugged. As he moved to walk back to the bedroom to eat his breakfast, he stared down the doorframe and realized something.
The image of his unconscious body on the bed finally shook him from his morning delirium, and he finally looked all over himself, realizing something felt very off.
The fur, the plush scarf around his neck, and the part that he was walking on all fours the entire time. Certainly not something you'd see everyday, turning into a Pokemon. He was surprisingly calm about it, all things considered.
Oh, and he realized for the second time. The fact that he could see his human body from here. It looked very dead. No wonder his mother screamed so hard.
Mouth locked in a fake grin, his eyes dilated and teared up, shuddering. Much like his mother, the son, too, had begun screaming.
His screaming stopped as soon as his mother climbed back up, having rushed down to get a bag. She very quickly shoved her son, the one currently covered in fur, inside of the purse. He yelped in surprise, trying his best to crawl out but was ordered not to with the wag of a finger. The contents of the bag were mostly emptied earlier besides some necessities.
Looking down at the fox shivering inside, she looked at it with the most determined look she could muster. "Don't worry, Ash. I'm gonna go to the Professor and help get you better." The possibility that there wasn't anything any of them could do was left completely unsaid.
With some difficulty, she carried her son's body down the stairs and out of the house, fireman-style. Putting her son down, she locked the doors behind her. Then, using all the strength and adrenaline she had, picked her son back up and sprinted all the way to the Professor's laboratory.
The image of Delia Ketchum rushing down the dirt road of Pallet Town with her unconscious son in tow was embedded deeply in the minds of its residents for years. They had no context, and they did not want any. However, as long as they kept the incident mum, there would be no problems.
Despite this, they never noticed or heard the fox she was also holding, it just barely holding onto her arms as she made a mad dash to the respected Professor Oak's laboratory.
If you're wondering, the fact that he's a Hisuian Zorua is why he's a bit half-dead. He's not a vengeful ghost or any amount of angry for that matter. Just very unfortunate.
I also haven't watched the anime in "a while". I could end up drawing some of the plots from the games and anime summaries as a result. Better that than just another straightforward anime retelling, anyway.
Haven't written in a long while, so it's very rough. This should do for now, though. I'm also cleaning two chapters to go after this one, but at the moment they're mostly a draft and outline, respectively.
And don't expect a schedule. That kind of thing is too much responsibility, and I've also got Uni to worry about.
One last thing, can I just say how friggin' boss the Hisuian Zoroark design is? It is legitimately badass, the absolute most amazing Pokemon design I've seen in a long while. If the story was primarily built around eventually evolving him a few regions later, that would be motivation enough.
That would be all, thank you.