Chapter No.3 I Choose You Part 3

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To Austin's surprise, Delia wasn't with the group in front of the ranch, as she had been in the anime.

'Well, that's one thing that's different,' Austin thought, his concern growing about how he would interact with her. She might notice the changes in him.

What conclusions would she draw if she became suspicious?

Would she think her son was possessed by a ghost Pokémon?

Or that he was finally taking things more seriously?

Or perhaps she might think that Pikachu's shock had finally connected Ash's last two brain cells?

Austin chuckled at the thought, but he knew the implications of Delia growing suspicious.

It could lead to a medical evaluation—what would that entail?

His mind raced through various scenarios.

Pika.

Pikachu's call snapped Austin out of his reverie.

He looked down to see the electric Pokémon looking as if he wanted to escape.

Hmm, Austin hummed internally.

'Right, Ash gained Pikachu's friendship because of the Spearow mess,' he reminded himself, contemplating whether to instigate a similar situation to gain Pikachu's trust. He quickly dismissed the idea.

'No, I'm not going to pull that stunt. But what kind of butterfly—or rather, Butterfree—effect would that bring?'

Another sigh escaped Austin as another thought filled his head.

'Since this is an anime, will the world itself try to stick to the plot, or can I change it? At least for my safety, let's try.'

Looking at Pikachu, he said, "Come on, don't I get the benefit of the doubt for not putting you in the Pokéball?"

Pikachu just gave him a blank stare.

"Pika Pi."

Austin wasn't sure what Pikachu had said, but the tone sounded like an insult.

Then again, how seriously could Pikachu take him while he was still in his pajamas?

Austin stepped back into the lab with Pikachu trailing curiously behind him. His eyes instantly landed on Professor Oak and a rather distinctive Pokémon wielding a silver spoon in each hand. This Pokémon, with its small mustache, long, thin snout, and eyes narrowed like slits, manipulated psychic energy to make brooms sweep the floor autonomously.

"Alakazam!" Austin exclaimed, taking a deep breath to mask his rising anxiety.

"Oh, Ash my boy, do you need something?" Professor Oak greeted him warmly, bustling over with a stack of papers in hand.

However, Austin was momentarily paralyzed, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Can Alakazam read my mind? Is it reading my thoughts right now? Does it know? Why am I so paranoid all of a sudden?

His thoughts raced uncontrollably.

"Oh, Alakazam here is my Pokémon; don't be intimidated—she doesn't bite," Professor Oak chuckled, seemingly oblivious to Austin's discomfort.

"P-Professor, do you have a book on how to deal with aggressive Pokémon? And some ketchup packets," Austin blurted out, his eyes darting nervously from the Professor to Alakazam, who seemed increasingly annoyed by his gaze.

"Trying to get along with Pikachu, huh? Amazing start, my boy." Professor Oak's face lit up with enthusiasm as he motioned for Alakazam to fetch some items.

Alakazam seemed relieved to be given a task away from Austin's unnerving stare. "Try not to stare, my boy. Pokémon and people alike don't appreciate it," Professor Oak advised softly.

Austin gave a slow, awkward nod. Suddenly, a book titled Handling Fury: Professor Samuel Oak's Guide to Managing Aggressive Mons floated toward him, followed by a few packets of ketchup. Grasping them eagerly, Austin thanked the professor and practically sprinted out of the lab, his heart pounding against his chest.

Outside the lab, Austin wiped the sweat from his brow while Pikachu watched him with a curious gaze. Despite the tension, Austin managed a shaky smile and joked, "Didn't try to run away?"

Pikachu responded with a frown and a deliberate turn away, but Austin wasn't deterred.

He opened a packet of ketchup and gently squeezed some onto the palm of his hand.

Pikachu's interest was piqued; it edged closer, sniffing cautiously before extending a paw to taste the ketchup.

Austin's heart warmed as he watched Pikachu's eyes widen in delight at the flavor.

Seeing this as the perfect moment to build a bridge, Austin cautiously placed Pikachu's Pokéball on the ground.

His voice cracked as he spoke, betraying his nervousness, "Look, I know you don't like the situation you were put into."

He clasped his hands behind his back to hide their trembling.

Pikachu's gaze fixed on him, its previous distraction momentarily forgotten.

"But I have a simple proposal. You scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours," Austin continued, noticing Pikachu tilt its head, puzzled, examining its own paws.

"What I want to say is, help me catch another Pokémon, and when we reach Viridian City..." he trailed off, watching Pikachu's reaction.

Pikachu looked genuinely taken aback, its little voice squeaking, "Pika?" as if to ask why.

Austin couldn't help but smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"I imagined myself in your position. Being told you have to now travel with a stupid 10-year-old, I'd probably jump off the nearest cliff."

His attempt at humor seemed to work; Pikachu snorted, a smile breaking through its initial reluctance.

"So, deal?" Austin asked, his voice steadier now, but his hand still shaking as he reached it out toward Pikachu.

"Pika," Pikachu responded, stretching out its paw to meet Austin's hand.

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Austin quickly returned to the house while reading the book, which, surprisingly, was in English.

I thought it would be Japanese. Or is it Japanese and I just see it as English? he wondered, his thoughts interrupted by a gasp.

Looking up, he saw Delia standing outside with her hand covering her mouth.

"Ash, is everything alright?"

Her eyes were wide with shock as they stared at the book like it was a contagious disease.

Ash and books? Yep, even I would find that shocking, Austin mused, offering a reassuring smile.

"Professor Oak gave me this awesome book to help me be the best trainer for Pikachu."

Delia's expression softened as she turned her gaze to the electric type.

"Well, aren't you a handsome boy?" she cooed.

Pikachu looked away in embarrassment, just as Delia was about to pet him.

"Wait, D-er-Mom—" Austin began, but Pikachu was already bracing to electrocute her. Instead, Delia found just the right spot between his ears, sending his mind into a state of bliss as he murmured, "Chaa."

Austin stared in pure disbelief.

Now that's not fair.

"Your clothes are out on your bed," Delia said, continuing to enjoy giving Pikachu a head rub.

"R-Right." Austin walked inside and up the stairs, feeling an odd sense of familiarity as he entered what was now his—Ash's—room. The clothes from the first three seasons were laid out on the bed. In a few moments, he was dressed in the iconic black shirt and blue vest, complemented by blue jeans, black and white sneakers, and a red and white hat set over his dark hair. Pulling on the fingerless green gloves, Austin felt unnervingly like he was morphing into Ash more than ever.

Turning around to grab his backpack, Austin walked downstairs to find Delia had prepared breakfast.

Seeing her smile, he felt a pang of guilt for pretending to be her son.

However, that guilt was fleeting as he reminded himself: he hadn't caused any of this.

He was merely trying to make the best of a bewildering situation.

Pikachu was happily munching on some Pokémon food that Delia usually kept to feed the Pokémon accompanying trainers at the restaurant she ran.

"Hey, Pikachu," Austin attempted, but Pikachu pointedly looked away.

Yeah… Still a dick.

"Eat up, you'll need your strength before your journey," Delia encouraged, as Austin managed a weak smile.

"Got it," he replied, deliberately not addressing her as 'Mom'—that was still too weird for him.

Delia, however, was taken aback. 'Ash' was eating differently; he usually stuffed his face, but now he was eating slowly and with manners. While it was a nice change, she couldn't help but notice that Ash had been acting differently since he woke up.

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The vast grasslands spread out like a green sea, dotted with clumps of towering trees that rustled softly in the gentle breeze. It was a place where the air smelled of earth and wildflowers, a peaceful sanctuary unless one was a hungry Rattata.

Rattata, a small, quadrupedal rodent Pokémon, moved cautiously through the underbrush. Her purple fur blended with the shadows, while her cream-colored face, paws, and underbelly felt the coolness of the shaded ground. Her narrow eyes, framed by rounded ears and a single whisker on each cheek, scanned her surroundings vigilantly. The most pressing sensation, however, was the gnawing hunger in her belly, a constant reminder of her immediate need.

She was hurt, a dull ache reminding her of the rough life in the wild. But more pressing than her pain was the growl of her empty stomach, which seemed to echo the rustling of the leaves. Then, carried on the wind, came a scent—a tantalizing whiff of food. Her nose twitched; her instincts honed in on the source.

Cautiously, she followed the scent until she stumbled upon a human boy. He looked around in awe, oblivious to her presence. He had a backpack, and Rattata knew that's where the food was. The boy's fascination with his surroundings provided her the perfect cover.

With her belly urging her on, she approached silently, every muscle tensed for quick movement. She needed that food. As she neared the backpack, her heart raced with both excitement and fear.

Suddenly, just as she was about to reach her prize, a sharp shock of electricity coursed through her body. It felt like her entire being was buzzing uncontrollably, her fur standing on end and her muscles seizing in an involuntary dance of pain.

She froze, the shockwave rendering her momentarily helpless, and looked up into the eyes of the human. There was no anger there, only disappointment—a look that seemed to pierce through her small heart.

As he threw a Pokéball at her, her world swiftly darkened to nothing.

Was I wrong to be hungry?

She thought as the ball snapped shut, capturing her in its confines.

The last sliver of light vanished, leaving her in a cramped darkness.

....

Austin stood in the middle of Route 1, the familiar weight of a freshly caught Pokéball in his hand.

He knew he shouldn't feel disappointed. After all, he had just caught his first Pokémon.

It was just a Rattata, but it was better than nothing.

The majority of Pokémon on Route 1, like Pidgey or Spearow, weren't appealing to him. He remembered how Ash caught a Pidgeotto in the Viridian Forest and decided against catching a Spearow to avoid the wrath of its flock. So, Rattata it was—Pikachu's only collaborative catch of the day.

Austin sighed, looking down at the small Pokéball.

"It's not the best, but I can work with it," he muttered to himself, trying to muster some enthusiasm.

"Looks like you held up your end of the bargain," he said to Pikachu, who was currently inspecting the ketchup packets inside the backpack.

"Of course," Austin thought, observing Pikachu's glance back at him.

"Let's just get to Viridian City, it will take a few minutes and I'll set you free."

Pikachu gave a slow nod, then motioned for him to open a ketchup packet.

Austin complied, his thoughts wandering. He knew the Pokémon writers had a habit of nerfing Pikachu every other region, but the electric mouse had always managed to grow strong.

Regardless, Austin resolved to release Pikachu if that was what the Pokémon desired.

"Looks like my starter is now a Rattata. The bottom of the barrel," Austin snorted to himself, his thoughts slightly bitter.

Just as he laughed off his plight, a chilling call sliced through the air.

"Spearow!"

Spinning around to face the source of the noise.

There it was—a small avian Pokémon with a menacing gaze. Its plumage was a mix of rough browns and pinks, with narrow dark brown eyes that seemed to bore into him. The Spearow's beak was short and hooked, a light pink that contrasted sharply with its fierce expression.

Pikachu readied itself to attack, but Austin quickly raised his hand to stop him. He knew better than to start a fight with a Spearow—it might call its flock.

As the realization dawned on him, the Spearow's gaze hardened; it was about to call for backup.

In panic, his hand instinctively reaching for another Pokéball.

With a swift motion born of desperation, he threw it.

"Spear!" the bird screeched as it was hit and then sucked into the Pokéball with a swift motion.

Austin was about to turn and run, expecting the worst, but then he heard a sound—a clear, definitive 'ding' from the Pokéball.

He froze, disbelief washing over him.

I caught it?!

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[Pallet Town - Ketchum Household]

Delia was a whirlwind of emotions—a blend of pride and profound worry that only a mother whose son had just left on a dangerous journey could understand.

The tightness in her chest wouldn't ease; her mind replayed every possible danger her son could face.

"Don't worry, he'll be alright. He is his father's son after all," she murmured to herself, trying to find solace in the reminder.

To distract herself, Delia turned on the television, hoping some idle show might soothe her nerves. However, the news only heightened her anxiety. The anchor began a segment that immediately caught her attention and stoked her fears:

"Tragic news from Route 1 as a young trainer named Jimmy was found deceased early this morning, the victim of an aggressive Spearow flock. Experts believe this flock has developed unusually strategic hunting tactics. Dr. Fiona Barkley, a Pokémon behaviorist, notes that the Spearows appear to use a single member to lure unsuspecting trainers or Pokémon into ambushes where the entire flock then attacks. Environmental biologist, Dr. Hank Jennings, suggests that recent habitat disruptions may have forced the Spearows to adopt more aggressive measures to defend their territory. This dangerous flock is known to be active across Routes 1, 25, and 3, between Viridian and Pallet Town. The incidents have sparked outrage in several communities, with citizens demanding action from the Pokémon League."

As the report continued, Delia's hands began to sweat, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. She clasped her hands tightly together, her knuckles whitening as she whispered a prayer.

Oh, Mew, please keep my baby safe.