"Who's there?!"
Ash jumped at the sudden voice, but no matter how he looked around, he could only see himself. Oh, and also a burnt-up bicycle nearby, looking very much like a dried fish.
Right—whose bike was this again?
Ash could only remember that in a rush, he had grabbed the nearest bicycle without thinking. As for its original owner… he had no idea.
Now that he thought about it, he'd caught sight of a super cool Gyarados in the river earlier. Maybe he should go back and check it out?
Meanwhile, Red had entered a strange, misty space. He could sense the thoughts of this strange young man, a seamless mental connection. But the kid's constant, jumpy train of thought was enough to make his scalp tingle. Were normal people's minds really this twisty?
If he didn't interrupt, who knew where the boy's thoughts would wander next? So, Red finally couldn't help but interject:
"Pokémon Center."
The voice startled Ash again. Only then did the carefree boy snap back to his senses—Ho-Oh's healing powers weren't almighty. The most important thing right now was to get to a Pokémon Center. If Pikachu ended up with aftereffects like rheumatism later, that would be a huge problem.
Whether he was possessed or not didn't matter for now. Ash tucked the Rainbow Feather safely into his shirt, scooped Pikachu into his arms, and ran off in the direction Ho-Oh had flown.
At Viridian City's Pokémon Center, Ash handed Pikachu over to Nurse Joy. He hadn't expected his random running to actually get him out of the forest and into a big city.
Under Nurse Joy's guidance, Ash registered as an official Trainer using his Pokédex. This meant he could enjoy all the perks the Pokémon League offered Trainers—free use of Pokémon Center facilities, free medical treatment, free lodging, and so on. After all, Pokémon Centers were a nationwide, even worldwide, chain brand.
Soon, Pikachu was wheeled back out, bandaged up but with nothing more than a few scratches. According to Nurse Joy, the situation had been critical; if Pikachu had arrived a little later, it might've had to rely on its own body to heal…
"Pika!"
Pikachu leapt straight onto Ash's shoulder, filling him with pride. He instantly felt like a real Trainer and couldn't help smiling as he patted Pikachu's head.
Noticing how muddy he still was, Ash decided to head to the back rooms of the Pokémon Center for a shower. But as he passed a public phone, he couldn't resist walking over.
"Hello, this is Ash's mom." Delia's voice came through after the call connected.
Ash proudly said, "Hi Mom, I'm in Viridian City!"
"Oh, Ash, why are you covered in mud?"
"Oh, uh, it rained a lot in Viridian just now, and a car splashed me," Ash fibbed, quickly moving Pikachu—still wrapped in bandages—out of view. If Delia saw, she'd start nagging for sure.
"You clumsy boy, make sure you—xxx…"
Of course, she still started nagging non-stop. Then, midway through, her face lit up with pride. "But it's amazing you made it to Viridian in just one day! Back in the day, your father needed several days to get there."
Ash blinked. Memories of his father hadn't surfaced in his mind for a long time.
"In any case, you must become a Trainer even stronger than your father and grandfather! Go for it, Ash!"
With that, Delia hung up. Ash set down the receiver, ready to head for the showers. But as he turned, he spotted a wall poster with four Pokémon carved into it—three were bird-type Pokémon, and one looked a lot like the rainbow-colored bird he'd just seen earlier.
So that Fearow outside was famous enough to be on posters?
"Beep beep beep…"
The phone beside him suddenly rang. With no one else around, Ash cautiously picked it up.
On the screen appeared an elderly man with silver hair, a white lab coat, and a serious—but slightly silly—expression. Professor Oak, the one who'd given Ash his first Pokémon, Pikachu.
"Oh, Ash! I heard from your mother that you've arrived in Viridian, so I thought I'd call."
Ash smiled proudly and nodded.
"Well, I didn't expect much from you at first, but sometimes casting a wide net brings in a big fish. The better you do, the better I look…"
Professor Oak rambled for a while, making Ash want to hang up right away.
"By the way, how many Pokémon have you caught so far?"
Ash froze, then forced out an answer: "Uh… one, for now?"
Professor Oak's face changed instantly—faster than a Quick Attack—into pure disappointment. "You really are a small fry…"
Ash quickly defended himself: "But I saw a really amazing Fearow! Just like the symbol on that poster!"
"Just a Fearow… The Pokémon on that poster are extremely rare. A rookie like you could never—"
Before he could finish, Professor Oak's eyes went wide, his pupils nearly popping out of the screen. Ash had pulled out the rainbow-colored feather to prove himself.
"It really was a super cool Fearow, just a little bald. This is the feather it dropped."
Professor Oak: "!!!"
Even through the screen, the sacred light radiating from the Rainbow Feather was palpable. This was no ordinary Pokémon feather—it was dazzling, divine.
This brat… really met a Legendary Pokémon?!
Oak's expression changed again, faster than before. "Ash-kun, good boy. Why don't you send that feather over for me to—"
"Hey, hey, the signal's bad here. Gotta go, bye!"
Ash rolled his eyes at the ceiling, made some fake static noises, then hung up. This kid wasn't about to be tricked that easily!
With that, he tucked the Rainbow Feather safely away and finally went to shower.
Shortly after he left, a short-haired orange-haired girl walked in, pushing a bicycle that looked exactly like a dried fish. She looked around, found no sign of her target, tossed the wreck to the ground, and stomped toward the inner doors, her face stormy. Getting her bike stolen and fried to a crisp would anger even a saint.
"That Trainer with the Pikachu—I'll never forgive him!" Misty vowed.
That night, Ash and Pikachu slept soundly. It was his first night as a Trainer. He'd collapsed into an awkward sleeping pose, Pikachu doing the exact same beside him. Two creatures who'd just become friends, now perfectly in sync.
Suddenly, Ash shot upright like a reanimated corpse, staring blankly at his hands.
"Pika?"
Pikachu lifted its head warily, tiny sparks flickering from its cheeks. Pokémon had senses humans lacked. While Ash's appearance hadn't changed, Pikachu could tell instantly—
This was not its clueless Trainer!
Red: "…"
At that moment, it was Red—somehow drawn into Ash's body—who was in control. Closing his eyes, Red took in everything: the feeling of air against his skin, the scent of the night. This was nothing like before, confirming to him that his old self had only been a fictional character.
But maybe this boy named Ash was fictional too… just part of a higher-level story?
"Pika!"
The growl snapped him back. He opened his eyes to see Pikachu baring its teeth. Red knew from experience that this meant it was about to attack.
"I mean no harm…"
And it worked. Red slowly reached out, patting Pikachu on the cheek. The little mouse's hostility faded, and it licked his palm. Pokémon could sense human intent, after all—and this human had no ill will.
Though a veteran at handling Electric Mice, Red found the tactile warmth of a living Pokémon strangely fresh.
"So this… is what a real Pokémon feels like?"
He picked Pikachu up and hugged it. If Ash suddenly woke up to this, he might just explode from anger—he'd nearly died earning Pikachu's trust, and now a stranger had stolen it in an instant.
"Let's take a walk."
Red scratched Pikachu's chin. Understanding, Pikachu leapt onto his shoulder, and the two stepped out of the room. He didn't know how long this state would last, so he wanted to make the most of it.
But just as he stepped outside, the door across the hall opened. Out stepped the short-haired orange-haired girl.
Their eyes met. Misty instantly flared up, her amber eyes blazing.
"You little bike thief—I finally found you!"
But then she could only stare as the man walked straight toward the Pokémon Center doors, not even glancing at her.
"Unbelievable!"
Being ignored by the one who stole your bike was somehow even more infuriating than the theft itself.
She lunged to grab his collar—
Click!
Before she could touch him, Red had already caught her wrist in a firm grip.
He turned to look at her, his eyes devoid of emotion, cold and distant.
"Who are you?" he asked quietly.
Misty: "???"
Already playing innocent?!