Hello readers.
This is my first story, and I have no writing experience. The story will be published irregularly, as I am also a student. I hope you guys will support me and suggest to me how to improve my stories.
Please overlook poor vocabulary and grammatical errors.
NOTE: In this story, Ash and other characters of his age will be 16 instead of 10. The age of the other Characters is the same.
Purple glanced around the lab, his eyes darting over every piece of high-tech equipment, each sound and flicker of light setting his nerves on edge. This was it—where everything began. The beginning of Ash's journey, the place that changed everything. But now it was his. His hands trembled slightly as the glass panel slid open, revealing three Pokéballs.
"Are you alright, Ash?" Professor Oak asked, his voice gentle but probing, as if he could sense the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside Puple.
He forced a smile, mustering every ounce of fake enthusiasm he could. "Oh, I'm fine, Professor. Just excited."
Excited? Purple felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath his feet. He'd dreamt of this moment for years, but now that he was here, the reality felt far more surreal and nerve-wracking.
"Hm… Well, alright then," Professor Oak said, his eyes lingering on Purple for a moment before he sighed and gestured to the Pokéballs. "So, who will be your choice?"
Purple took a deep breath, pretending to weigh his options, even though he knew exactly what he had to do. "Well, Gary said he got a Squirtle, so that's out," he said, reaching for a Pokéball.
"I choose Charmander."
He popped it open, knowing full well it would be empty. His heart raced as he tried to mimic disappointment, turning his face into a perfect mask of letdown. And right on cue, Professor Oak confirmed it.
"That one was also taken by a kid who wasn't late."
"Of course it was," Purple muttered, feigning exasperation. "Well, that's fine. Bulbasaur is a great Pokémon—"
He opened the next ball. Empty again. A pit of anxiety formed in his stomach, despite knowing what was coming.
"The early bird gets the worm, or in this case, the Pokémon," Professor Oak remarked with a knowing smile, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"So… there's no Pokémon left?" Purple asked, pretending to sound crestfallen, though he already knew the answer.
Professor Oak hesitated, clearly torn. "Well, there's still one left, but I—"
"I'll take it," Purple blurted out, his voice too eager, too desperate. He needed to keep moving, to keep moving before he woke up.
Professor Oak blinked at Purple's urgency but nodded, pressing a button. A lone Pokéball, marked with a lightning bolt, rose.
"I should warn you; there's a problem with this last one," Professor Oak said, his eyes cautious.
Purple's heart hammered in his chest. "I'll take my chances."
"Very well then," Professor Oak said, handing over the ball. Purple grinned, but the moment he touched it, the weight of everything hit him. This was real. He pressed the button, and a flash of light filled the room, materialising into a small, yellow mouse with red cheeks and a lightning bolt tail.
"His name is Pikachu," Professor Oak said as Pikachu turned to them, his tiny face scrunched in a frown.
"Pika," Pikachu grunted, crossing his little arms like a disgruntled toddler.
"Hey, Pikachu," Purple said softly, extending his hand, his heart aching with a weird, nostalgic fondness. This was Pikachu. Ash's Pikachu. No—his Pikachu. But as he moved closer, Professor Oak's voice cut through the moment.
"Wait!"
Too late. Pain exploded through Purple's body, his muscles seizing up as Pikachu unleashed a jolt of electricity. He collapsed, twitching violently, his vision going white.
Oh god, the pain—it was real. This wasn't a dream, and it hurt like hell. His body convulsed; his teeth clenched as he tried to process what was happening. The shock was overwhelming, his thoughts a scattered mess. Holy shit, he was here.
"Shocking, isn't it?" Professor Oak's voice cut through the haze; his tone casual, almost amused.
S-S-Screw you, Purple thought, his body still jerking uncontrollably, the words never quite making it out of his mouth.
Pikachu huffed, looking more annoyed than anything, like Purple had offended him personally.
Purple finally regained control of his limbs, though they still tingled from the residual shock. He glanced at Pikachu, who refused to meet his eyes, the little yellow body turned slightly away in what looked like… was that embarrassment? Or maybe Pikachu just didn't care. Either way, the boy was sure of one thing now.
This wasn't a dream.
The weight of the situation hit him all at once, like a tidal wave he wasn't prepared for. How the hell did he end up here? He was in Ash Ketchum's body. Did that mean Ash was in his? A knot twisted in his gut at the thought. Could Ash be back in his world, in his body, with his parents? How would they even handle that? Would Ash try to explain it or just play along?
He is confused. He was just walking home, and he suddenly teleported and became Ash. What happened to his previous life, friends and family? Purple was very scared and shocked. He did not know how to react.
And if he is here, is Ash in his body? How will his parents react if they find his body acting weirdly? They will not know, it his not him but Ash. Purple swallowed hard, imagining his mom's face when her son started acting like a hyperactive, Pokémon-obsessed kid.
He shook his head, trying to push the panic down. I have to fix this, he thought, as Professor Oak handed him a Pokédex and a handful of Pokéballs, his expression calm, like nothing in the world was wrong. How was he supposed to fix this? He didn't even know how he got here in the first place.
Knowing his luck, he'd probably end up in a mental hospital if he ever got back home.
Purple stared at the Pokédex, turning it over in his hands before pointing it at Pikachu. The Pokémon finally looked up, his brow furrowing, obviously confused by whatever Purple was doing.
"Pikachu, the Electric Mouse Pokémon," the robotic voice of the Pokédex droned on. "The red sacs on its cheeks store energy equal to a lightning bolt. If one finds a charred berry in the woods, it is a sure sign that a Pikachu is nearby."
Purple marvelled at it, even though he knew exactly what the Pokédex did. Hearing it for real, standing here, holding this thing… it was like stepping into another dimension. Well, technically, that's exactly what had happened.
"This Pikachu is male, with the ability Static. He knows ThunderShock, Growl, and Tail Whip. Age: two years and five months."
Purple blinked at the detail. Did it even list Pikachu's age? How had Ash survived half the stuff that happened in the show? Like, Pikachu should be able to incinerate him. He glanced at Pikachu, who huffed and looked away again, clearly still unimpressed.
"You may want to return him to his Pokéball," Professor Oak suggested, pulling Purple out of his thoughts. Pikachu's ears perked up, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Right. He remembered this part. Pikachu hated being inside the Pokéball. Purple smiled, hoping to smooth things over. "Nah, I think he'd prefer to stay out."
Pikachu's ears twitched, his gaze still suspicious. Purple tried to sound confident, though part of him was screaming to just play it safe. The last thing he needed was another electric shock.
"Besides, how can I be his friend if I keep him in the ball all the time?"
Pikachu made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a scoff, his little face twisted into a Yeah, right kind of look.
Great, Purple thought, I'm off to a fantastic start.
Professor Oak scratched his cheek, clearly not convinced. "If you're sure, Ash."
Purple swallowed hard. Ash. He had to remember, he was Ash now. At least for as long as he was stuck here. He couldn't afford to slip up, to let anyone know something was off. Not yet. It would take some getting used to, pretending to be someone else in a world that had been fiction just a day ago.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to settle into Ash's mindset. Carefree. Optimistic. Maybe a little dense. When he opened them again, Professor Oak was staring at him with a concerned expression.
"You alright, Ash?"
"Uh, yeah," Purple stammered, forcing a grin. "Just trying to calm myself because I'm so excited."
Professor Oak chuckled, clearly buying his act. "Well, excitement is a good start for any Pokémon Trainer."
Excitement, thought, and feeling the weight of the Pokédex in his hand and the Pokéballs in his pocket. Right. That was one way to describe it. He wasn't sure if excitement was the right word for what he was feeling. It was more like a storm of confusion and anxiety, but he had no choice but to push it forward.