The storm was relentless. Rain lashed across the forest path, turning the trail into a slick, mud-slicked ribbon. Thunder rolled in the distance, punctuating the roar of the wind. Most trainers would have taken shelter, but Ash pressed on, his eyes sharp, Pikachu clinging to his shoulder, Bulbasaur close at his side. Butterfree hovered nearby, wings dripping with rain.
Up ahead, on a jagged rock slick with water, a small flame flickered in the darkness. A tiny Charmander crouched there, soaked and shivering, its tail barely burning against the storm. Ash slowed, assessing the situation.
"You can't stay out here," he murmured softly, crouching a few meters away. "It's dangerous. You'll burn out if you try to fight the storm."
Charmander's eyes glimmered with stubbornness. It made a small, defiant growl and refused to move. Ash sighed, already anticipating the stubbornness he had read in the Pokémon's gaze — it wanted no one's help, yet it couldn't survive on its own.
"I don't have time for games," Ash said quietly. "I have to help you."
He moved closer carefully, avoiding the puddles and slick stones. Bulbasaur stepped beside him, vines braced to help steady both trainer and Pokémon. Charmander hissed, backing up, tail flame flickering weakly, but Ash's calm presence never wavered.
"Okay… we'll do this my way," Ash whispered, carefully scooping the tiny Pokémon into his arms when it refused to budge. Charmander squirmed, sparks of panic igniting around its tail, but Ash held on firmly, unflinching. "Shh… it's going to be okay. I'm not going to let you get hurt."
He navigated through the pouring rain, his jacket and hair soaked, until he reached a small cave he had noticed along the path. The mouth of the cave offered shelter from the wind and rain. Ash laid Charmander gently on the damp rock floor.
From his bag, he pulled out a small supply of herbs and a bit of dried meat. Kneeling beside the little fire Pokémon, he prepared a paste from the herbs, carefully applying it along Charmander's limbs to stabilize its energy and ease its shivering muscles. He murmured softly, voice low and steady, "You've been through a lot… just relax. I've got you."
Charmander's body trembled, but Ash's calm presence seemed to reach through the fear. When he offered the small bite of food, the Pokémon nibbled hesitantly, tail flame beginning to burn a little brighter with each bite.
Once it had eaten, Ash wrapped his jacket around Charmander's small frame, then layered a blanket over it, hugging the Pokémon close to his chest. He held it gently, warmth radiating from his own body to steady the little fire Pokémon's energy.
"You're safe now," he said softly. "Rest. You need your strength back before we move."
He stayed there, holding Charmander against him as the storm raged outside, letting the Pokémon feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, his calm breathing. Slowly, the trembling subsided, the fire on its tail began to glow steadily, and Ash allowed himself the faintest of smiles.
Charmander was awake. The little fire Pokémon's tail flame burned bright and steady, and it was scampering around the cave with surprising energy, clearly revitalized. Pikachu zipped around as well, cheeks sparking playfully, while Bulbasaur rolled onto its back with a contented sigh. Butterfree flitted lazily above them, and Pidgeotto stretched its wings near the entrance, eyes bright and alert.
Ash smiled, quietly observing the small scene. "Looks like someone's feeling better," he said softly. He reached out, and Charmander darted over to him, nudging his hand affectionately before bounding toward Pikachu.
Without hesitation, Charmander joined the others in a playful skirmish — chasing Pikachu in circles, dodging Bulbasaur's gentle vines, and batting at Butterfree's fluttering wings. Pidgeotto swooped low, teasing the little fire lizard, and Charmander leapt and darted, tail flame flicking in delight.
Ash laughed quietly, crouching down to watch. "You're full of energy now," he said. "Good. That's what I like to see."
Charmander paused mid-run to glance at him, eyes bright and curious, then sprinted back into the fray. Bulbasaur gave a soft, approving rumble, and Pikachu squeaked happily as it darted away. Even Butterfree seemed to hum with contentment, circling overhead.
For the first time, Ash felt a moment of calm satisfaction — not the chaos of a battle, but the simple joy of seeing them all healthy, playful, and learning to trust each other. The storm had tested them, but now, in the sunlight of a new day, the team felt stronger, united, and ready for the journey ahead.
Ash sat cross-legged on the damp cave floor, watching Charmander's tail flicker warmly as it settled near his feet after a particularly energetic bout of play. The fire Pokémon paused, tilting its head curiously, as if sensing Ash's gaze.
"Hey, little buddy," Ash said gently, reaching out a hand. Charmander nudged it with its snout, sparks dancing playfully at the tip of its tail. "You've got a lot of fight in you… and a lot of heart too." He smiled softly, watching the way Charmander's eyes glimmered in the cave light.
Ash leaned closer, voice calm and steady. "I've been thinking… You've been through a lot out there in the storm. It's dangerous to face it all alone. I… I don't want you to have to do that anymore." He paused, letting the words sink in. "I want to offer you a chance to join my team. We travel together, face challenges together… and take care of each other."
Charmander's tail flicked brighter, and it let out a cheerful, almost eager cry. It stepped closer, circling Ash's legs before giving a little hop and nuzzling his hand again.
Ash laughed softly, scratching behind its head. "So… what do you say? Will you come with me? Be part of my team?"
Charmander let out a joyful cry, leaping up and wagging its tail flame energetically. It jumped into Ash's lap, pressing warmly against him, sparks of excitement dancing around. Ash grinned, ruffling the little Pokémon's head.
"Alright! You're part of the team, then!" Ash said with enthusiasm. "Welcome to the adventure, Charmander. We've got a lot to see and a lot to learn, but I think you're going to be a great teammate."
Charmander chirped happily in response, tail flame glowing bright and steady, its eyes shining with excitement and trust. Pikachu squeaked in approval, Bulbasaur gave a soft rumble, and even Butterfree fluttered down to hover close, as if welcoming the newest member.
Ash leaned back, feeling the warmth of the fire Pokémon against him, smiling as the cave was filled with the quiet hum of friendship and the promise of countless journeys ahead. "We'll make a great team," he said softly, more to himself than anyone else. "Starting right now."
Charmander let out a playful squeak, nudging Ash's hand once more before darting off to join Pikachu, and the cave echoed with the sounds of laughter, sparks, and the quiet, steadfast bond forming between trainer and Pokémon.
Ash's eyes sparkled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a Poké Ball, holding it out gently on the cave floor. "Alright, Charmander… if you want to officially join my team, you don't have to do anything forced," he said softly. "You can decide for yourself."
Charmander's ears perked up, tail flame flickering bright with excitement. It looked at the Poké Ball curiously, then at Ash, then back at the Poké Ball. With a small, determined chirp, it jumped onto the Poké Ball, pressing its tiny body against it. Sparks of fire danced briefly along its tail as if acknowledging the decision.
Ash smiled warmly, leaning down to watch. "Looks like you're making your own choice… I like that," he said quietly. "You're ready to be part of the team, huh?"
Charmander gave a small, happy cry, and with a flash of light, it disappeared into the Poké Ball. The Poké Ball settled on the cave floor, wobbling slightly before emitting a satisfied click. Ash picked it up carefully, holding it in his hand.
"You did it yourself," he said softly, pride clear in his voice. "Welcome officially, Charmander. I promise we're going to have a lot of great adventures together."
Pikachu squeaked happily and hopped up to inspect the Poké Ball, Bulbasaur nudged Ash's leg approvingly, and Butterfree circled overhead, flitting joyfully. Ash laughed quietly, feeling a warm sense of accomplishment. "Team's complete… for now," he murmured, tucking the Poké Ball safely back in his pocket.
Ash and his Pokémon had just finished their meal at the Pokémon Center. It should have been a pleasant dinner, filled with friends and laughter… at least, that's how they would have liked it.
In reality, it was by far the most awkward meal any of them had ever had—which is saying a lot, considering Ash once had a tea party with a couple of Machamp at Professor Oak's lab.
The boy's attitude was infuriating to the point of spoiling the meal. Ash was used to dealing with difficult personalities—he'd grown up encountering them every few days, usually from Green and a few other kids. But somehow, Damian managed to be even more exasperating than Green at his worst, and Ash had only just met him.
Piedgotto had to snatch a bottle of ketchup away from Pikachu, who was drinking it so aggressively he nearly choked three times. Even a Zubat could tell that Pikachu—and everyone else—was getting increasingly frustrated.
Piedgotto herself had a vocabulary that was far from "appropriate," as anyone who'd heard the talking Meowth of Team Rocket could attest. But after witnessing Damian's behavior, she was forcing herself to remain silent; what she wanted to say would have been far too harsh for human ears.
Butterfree was also visibly annoyed but tried to calm himself. He understood that what Ash needed right now was someone to rely on, not another angry Pokémon.
Of all of them, The—Bulbasaur—was handling his emotions the best. He was fond of Ash, though perhaps not as much as the others, but enough to remain composed. After all, he had expected something like this to happen.
Charmander, however, looked at Damian with a mix of fear and resentment, curling closer to Ash as the boy picked him up and held him protectively.
"So, what do you think?"
"Very impressive."
"As expected from you, Damian."
"I haven't even caught half the Pokémon you have!"
They turned to see Damian, the blue-haired boy, surrounded by other kids. On the table in front of him were multiple Poké Balls and a camera displaying photos of various Pokémon. He was clearly bragging about his collection, and his friends praised him without hesitation.
"But hey, Damian, haven't you caught a Charmander or something?" asked another boy.
"I had one," Damian said dismissively. "But that thing was a weakling. Couldn't even beat a single Poliwhirl."
His words immediately irritated Ash and his Pokémon, especially Charmander, who whimpered and snuggled closer.
"So… what did you do to it?" a girl asked.
"I left it on a mountain pass," Damian said matter-of-factly, shocking Ash and the others. His friends seemed unfazed.
Just then, rumbling came from outside. Ash rushed to the window and saw dark storm clouds approaching, lightning flashing and illuminating the sky. Heavy rain followed, barreling toward the Pokémon Center.
"It was also pretty brainless," Damian continued, ignoring the brewing storm. "I kept leaving it, and it still followed me. I finally gave up and told it to wait for me—and you know the funny part? It wagged its tail and believed me! What a dumbass."
"Man, I bet it's still on that mountain pass, wagging its tail," one boy remarked, while a girl nodded.
"Well, if the rain's as bad as it looks, its tail flame's sure to go out," she added.
"Fine by me!" Damian laughed.
That was the last straw.
Ash stormed toward Damian, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him close. Gasps echoed around the room. Ash's glare was filled with an anger he had never felt before—anger at the thought that this boy, who called himself a Pokémon trainer, could be so cruel.
At first, Ash had compared Damian to Green Oak. Green had been cocky, arrogant, and condescending at times, but he had never been cruel. Green once found a Nidorina with a hurt leg and cared for her until she healed. When Ash asked why, Green had replied that it was essential practice for an aspiring Elite Trainer—but Ash had always known the truth: Green cared for others, despite everything.
Damian, Ash realized, was nothing like Green. To even compare them was an insult.
"What the—let go of me!" Damian shouted, struggling.
"Do you even care you could have killed him? Took a life?!" Ash yelled back.
"You're that kid who got in my way before," Damian finally said, recognition dawning.
"And what if I am?!" Ash snapped.
"And what do you care what I do with my Pokémon?!"
"Because Charmander is a living being, just like us!" Ash shouted, his voice shaking with fury.
"What did you call me?!" Damian barked.
"You heard me. Now apologize to Charmander, or else I—"
"That is enough!" Nurse Joy's voice cut through the tension. She had arrived, her expression stern.
"Nurse Joy, he—" Ash began.
"Young man, I will not allow you to start a fight in my Pokémon Center. Do I make myself clear?" she interrupted sharply.
"But he—" Ash tried to explain.
"I said, do I make myself clear?" she repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Ash froze, unable to fully comprehend what was happening. He realized that his actions could be misinterpreted—but then he remembered something.
"Hey… what was your grade on the Trainer's License Exam?" Ash asked Damian.
"Why would I—"
"Just answer the question."
"82. Happy?" Damian replied, then struggled to free himself.
Ash didn't need to hear more. He knew what that grade meant: to many, it was the bare minimum. People who scored similarly were looked down upon, while those like Damian were admired, trusted, and celebrated. Ash had always known this harsh truth all too well.
Without another word, Ash pushed Damian to the ground, turned, and walked out. He recalled all his Pokémon as he said coldly, "Fine. I'd rather leave than stay where a nurse judges people by grades and fails to uphold her own vows."
Ash moved swiftly, his fingers working with practiced ease as he reached for each Poké Ball. "Pikachu, Bulbasaur, Butterfree, Charmander—let's go," he said firmly, his voice calm but tinged with lingering anger. One by one, each Pokémon responded with a flash of light, returning to its ball. Pikachu let out a small, discontented squeak, Bulbasaur gave a soft rumble, Charmander chirped brightly, and even Butterfree emitted a faint fluttering hum, sensing Ash's resolve.
The storm outside had intensified, sheets of rain streaking against the windows, but Ash didn't hesitate. He pulled on his jacket, hood up, and pushed the door open, feeling the rush of wind and rain immediately. Water soaked through his clothes almost instantly, but he welcomed it—he had far more important things on his mind than comfort.
The streets were nearly empty, the townspeople having sought shelter, leaving the howling wind and splattering rain as his only companions. Ash kept a steady pace, leaning slightly into the gusts. Each step was deliberate, as if the storm itself were testing his resolve. He glanced down at his bag, ensuring the Poké Balls were secure, and felt the reassuring weight of his team resting safely inside.
Ahead, the forest loomed, dark and foreboding under the stormy sky. But Ash's determination did not waver. This was their world to explore, to protect, and to grow stronger in—he would not allow anyone's cruelty to deter him. He reached the edge of the woods, where puddles formed treacherous reflections of the dim lightning overhead, and stepped carefully, mindful of each slippery root and rock.
Once inside the trees, the storm's roar seemed to amplify, but Ash pressed on, unflinching. He could hear the faint scurrying of forest Pokémon, some seeking shelter from the deluge, others curious about the sudden intrusion of a lone trainer and his team. The path was familiar, though treacherous in this weather, yet Ash moved with a quiet confidence, guided not just by memory but by instinct.
Finally, he stopped at a small clearing, slightly elevated, offering some protection from the worst of the rain. He crouched, pressing the Poké Balls to the wet earth. "Alright… everyone, it's time to get out of these balls. Let's shake off this rain and check in with each other," he murmured.
One by one, the balls clicked and released his Pokémon. Pikachu shook violently, sending droplets flying, then scampered over to Ash and chirped. Bulbasaur rolled onto its back, snorting happily before standing to stretch its vines. Butterfree hovered in tight spirals, wings still dripping but radiant in movement. Charmander leapt out last, landing nimbly and stamping its tail in the mud, flames flickering brightly despite the rain.
Ash took a deep breath, feeling the camaraderie in the clearing, the unity that no storm—or cruel trainer—could break. "We'll find shelter soon," he said, voice steady. "And then… we'll plan our next move. Together."
With that, he led the way through the forest, water-soaked leaves slapping against his jacket, mud squelching underfoot, and the wind tearing through the trees. Behind him, his Pokémon followed without hesitation, their trust in him unwavering.
The storm was far from over, but Ash didn't mind. In fact, he felt alive. Every challenge, every harsh word from a thoughtless trainer, every drop of rain—it only made him more certain. With his team by his side, no storm was too fierce, no path too treacherous.
And as the lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating their path for a fleeting moment, Ash whispered quietly, almost to himself: "We're just getting started."
The storm had passed, leaving the forest damp and sparkling with the remnants of rain. Sunlight pierced through the canopy in scattered beams, casting golden streaks across the mossy ground. Ash stood in the clearing, his jacket rolled up and hair still slightly damp, a determined glint in his eyes. Today, the focus was training—strengthening bonds, mastering techniques, and pushing each of his Pokémon to reach their full potential.
"Alright, everyone," Ash said, hands on his hips. "Let's start the session. Pikachu, you're up first. We're working on Iron Tail."
Pikachu's ears perked, cheeks sparking faintly as it crouched, ready. Ash tossed a few small rocks in a line on the clearing. "Target practice—hit them cleanly with Iron Tail. Focus your energy, Pikachu."
Pikachu's tail ignited with electricity as it lunged forward. The first rock snapped cleanly under the metallic strike, sending shards tumbling. The second rock resisted slightly, forcing Pikachu to adjust the swing midair. Sparks flew from its tail, mixing with droplets of morning dew. Ash's voice rang out, calm and encouraging. "Good, Pikachu! Keep your balance and control the power!"
Pikachu gritted its teeth and leapt higher for the third strike. Its tail glinted like steel as it arced perfectly, shattering the rock with a sharp metallic clang. Sweat—or rather, fur dampened from the storm—clung to its body, but Pikachu let out a triumphant squeak. Ash crouched, offering a fist for a bump. "Yes! That's the control I want. Remember, it's not just strength—it's precision."
Next, Ash turned to Pidgeotto. "Pidgeotto, aerial training. Let's go with Aerial Ace first, then we'll mix in Steel Wing."
Pidgeotto stretched its wings and launched into the air, slicing through the forest canopy. The sunlight glinted on each feather as it accelerated toward Ash's designated markers—small targets suspended from tree branches. With a burst of speed, Pidgeotto performed a flawless Aerial Ace, zooming through the target and reappearing on the other side without a hint of wind resistance.
"Perfect, Pidgeotto! Keep your focus in the air—anticipate the target's movement!" Ash called.
Steel Wing came next. Pidgeotto's wings shimmered, feathers bristling with energy. With a mighty flap, it struck the wooden targets, the sound of cracking echoing through the clearing. Each strike was accompanied by a faint gleam along its wings, a sign of controlled force. Pidgeotto repeated the sequence, incorporating speed and accuracy, honing the balance between agility and raw power.
Meanwhile, Butterfree flitted between the shafts of sunlight, wings beating in rapid, precise motion. Ash knelt slightly, observing. "Butterfree, we're working on speed today. Quick dodges, rapid turns, and avoiding obstacles—make the forest your playground."
Butterfree zipped through tree branches, narrowly avoiding low-hanging vines, spinning in midair and changing direction with astonishing agility. Each twist and turn challenged its reflexes. Ash placed small floating markers on the ground, and Butterfree darted between them, wings a blur of color. Its antennae twitched, sensing shifts in airflow, allowing it to anticipate every sudden movement. After a dozen swift circuits, Butterfree hovered before Ash, breathing heavily but exhilarated. "Excellent, Butterfree! Your speed and control are improving. Keep refining those reflexes."
Bulbasaur stepped forward next. Ash knelt beside it. "Energy Ball, Bulbasaur. Concentrate your energy, feel it gather inside you before releasing. Don't just shoot—it's about precision and timing."
Bulbasaur's eyes glimmered with determination. Vines flexing, it inhaled deeply, drawing life force from the forest floor. Green light pulsed at the center of its seed, growing brighter as it condensed into a swirling sphere. Ash held out a series of markers—logs and rocks—spaced at varying distances. Bulbasaur fired the first Energy Ball, which arced gracefully and hit the target dead center. The second ball required a tighter trajectory, and Bulbasaur adjusted mid-release, the sphere curving elegantly around a tree trunk to strike its mark.
"Nice control, Bulbasaur! Keep the energy steady—don't rush it!" Ash praised, watching as the Pokémon focused harder, releasing consecutive Energy Balls in precise arcs. Sweat and dirt covered Bulbasaur's green hide, but its eyes burned with quiet determination.
Finally, Ash turned to Charmander. "Flamethrower control. Don't just blast—aim, control intensity, and conserve energy. We're practicing precision, not raw firepower."
Charmander's tail flame flickered brightly, reflecting its excitement. The Pokémon crouched low, inhaling sharply, then exhaled a thin, controlled stream of fire. Ash had set up a series of logs and stones at varying heights. The first flame hit the top of a log, scorching it slightly without setting it ablaze. The second slid carefully between two rocks, a narrow ribbon of heat that illuminated Charmander's concentration.
"Adjust the angle, Charmander!" Ash encouraged. "Feel the heat, but don't lose control!"
Charmander's flames danced and twisted, obeying every subtle motion of its body. By the third attempt, the fire slithered in a perfect arc, hitting the intended target while leaving the surroundings untouched. Ash clapped once, a wide smile on his face. "That's it! See? Precision makes your fire stronger and smarter than sheer power."
Minutes stretched into hours, the team sweating, panting, and exhilarated. Pikachu's tail sparked brighter with each Iron Tail strike. Pidgeotto's wings shimmered with effort but moved with fluid precision. Butterfree's eyes gleamed with sharp focus, wings a continuous blur. Bulbasaur's green energy glowed with calm intensity, and Charmander's flames flickered but never faltered, growing steadier with every controlled burst.
Ash finally lowered his arms, wiping the sweat from his brow. "That's enough for today," he said, voice full of quiet pride. "Everyone worked hard—and it shows. You've all improved, but remember, we keep pushing. Precision, control, speed… strength is nothing without all three."
The Pokémon huddled around Ash, panting, tired, yet beaming with satisfaction. Charmander nudged Ash's leg, tail flame flickering gently, while Pikachu bounced in place, electricity sparking lightly from its cheeks. Bulbasaur rolled onto its back, exhausted but smiling. Butterfree hovered lazily above, wings still quivering from exertion, and Pidgeotto flapped softly, shaking out its feathers.
Ash looked at his team, pride swelling in his chest. "Good job, everyone. We're stronger together, and we're only going to get better. Rest up—we'll train harder tomorrow."
The sun broke fully through the canopy, casting a warm glow on the clearing. Sweat, dirt, and a few scorch marks from Charmander's flames decorated the area, but the air buzzed with energy, growth, and the unspoken bond that tied trainer and Pokémon together.