Ren had to admit one thing about Ash Ketchum: the boy could run.
The two of them tore through Pallet Town's streets as the sun climbed higher, Ash dragging him by the wrist like a Tauros that didn't know how to slow down. Pikachu clung to Ash's shoulder, squeaking indignantly with every jolt. Ghastly drifted along beside Ren, looking more amused by the chaos than concerned.
"Come on, Ren! We're late!" Ash shouted, legs pumping.
"You're late," Ren corrected, his voice dry. "I was awake before sunrise. You're the one who thought hugging your pillow would train your arms."
Ash ignored him, as he often did, and charged toward the looming white dome of Oak's laboratory. A small crowd of parents and children still lingered outside the gates, buzzing with excitement. Ren caught glimpses of them, faces flushed, hands clutched around Poké Balls, eager eyes staring at the future.
Ren sighed. He'd felt that kind of fire once. Before he remembered. Before he knew.
Ash skidded to a halt at the lab doors, nearly bowling over a boy carrying a Squirtle in his arms. "Sorry!" Ash called, waving as if apologies were currency. Then he shoved the doors open, dragging Ren inside.
The lab smelled of old books and polished metal. Machines hummed softly, their lights blinking in steady rhythm. The walls were lined with shelves, stuffed with Poké Balls, research journals, and photographs of smiling trainers with their partners.
And at the center of it all stood Professor Samuel Oak.
His white lab coat swayed as he turned, clipboard in hand. His silver hair caught the light, his lined face calm but sharp. He looked every bit the scholar Ren had seen in documentaries back in his first life, yet more real now, more imposing.
"Well, well," Oak said, a smile tugging at his lips. "If it isn't Ash Ketchum. Late, as usual."
Ash winced. "S-Sorry, Professor! I just… overslept!"
Oak chuckled. "Overslept, hm? That's the same excuse your father used when he was your age."
Ren's brow twitched. Did he just drop a father reference? Canon bait.
Ash blinked, caught between embarrassment and confusion. "Wait, my dad…?"
But Oak was already moving past him, gesturing to the side table where three Poké Balls sat, their tops gleaming red in the morning light. "Unfortunately for you, Ash, all of the starters have already been claimed. Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle have found trainers."
Ash's shoulders sagged. Pikachu tilted its head, blinking.
Ren leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching. He knew how this would play out. Pikachu was destiny. Even if Oak tried to give Ash a Grimer at this point, somehow, some way, he'd still end up with Pikachu.
And right on cue, Oak produced a fourth Poké Ball from his coat pocket. "However… there is one Pokémon left. Not the most cooperative fellow, I'll admit, but perhaps you two will find common ground."
The ball opened with a flash, and Pikachu materialized, ears twitching, cheeks sparking faintly, eyes glaring at Ash like he was the enemy of all rodents.
Ash's face lit up. "He's perfect!"
Pikachu gave him a sharp zap to the face.
Ren smirked. Canon confirmed.
It was then that Oak's eyes shifted. He noticed Ghastly floating lazily behind Ren, its grin wide, eyes glowing faintly in the lab light.
Oak straightened, interest flickering in his gaze. "Ah. And who might you be?"
Ren pushed off the wall and stepped forward. "Ren Silen. I already have my partner." He gestured to Ghastly, who cackled in delight and blew a puff of gas toward Oak.
Oak's brows rose. "A Ghastly, hm? That's… unusual for a boy your age." His gaze sharpened. "Your family must be… Liora's son, then? And Agatha's grandson?"
Ren grimaced at the last part. "Unfortunately."
Oak chuckled. "That explains it. Still, raising a ghost-type from the start is no small feat. They're… temperamental."
"Ghastly and I understand each other," Ren said simply. Ghastly puffed up proudly at his words.
Oak nodded slowly, then his gaze drifted to the notebook peeking from Ren's satchel. "And what's this?"
Before Ren could stop him, Oak plucked the book free and flipped it open. His eyes skimmed the pages. Then stopped. Went back. Read again.
Ren shifted uncomfortably. Ash peered over Oak's shoulder, squinting. "Uh… is that just a bunch of doodles?"
Oak ignored him. His hand tightened on the pages as his eyes darted across Ren's careful handwriting:
… Diagrams of Eevee's potential evolutions.
… Lists of elemental triggers not yet discovered.
… Notes on evolutionary stones that didn't officially exist.
… And at the very bottom, in small letters: Ghost-type evolution? Method unknown.
Oak's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. Then he closed the notebook with a snap and looked at Ren.
"Where," Oak said slowly, "did you get this information?"
Ren's heart thudded. He forced a shrug. "Just… theories. Playing around with ideas."
Oak stared at him, searching. Finally, he let out a long breath. "Theories or not, these are… extraordinary. You realize you've hypothesized evolutions no one has even conceived of?"
Ren stayed silent. Ghastly snickered behind him, enjoying the tension.
Ash scratched his head. "Wait, you can make Eevee turn into all that? Cool!"
Oak set the notebook down carefully, as if it were made of glass. His eyes never left Ren's face. "You have a remarkable mind, young man. Reminds me… of myself, when I was your age."
Ren's stomach twisted. He didn't want to be compared to Oak. He didn't want the expectations, the pressure, the constant pull toward the Professor's path. He wanted his haunted house. He wanted shadows and laughter, not titles and legacies.
But Oak was already smiling, his expression equal parts wonder and calculation. "Ren Silen… I suspect you may have a future far greater than you imagine."
Ren forced a grin. "Or maybe I'll just build a haunted house."
Oak blinked. Then chuckled. "Ah. A joker, too."
Ghastly cackled so hard it spun in midair.
Cael chose that moment to enter, Machop at her side. She took one look at the scene, Ash rubbing his head after another shock, Oak still staring at Ren like he was a puzzle box, Ren pretending to be bored, and smirked.
"Already stealing the spotlight, shadow boy?" she said.
Ren sighed. "Trust me, you can have it."
But Cael wasn't fooled. She watched him closely, her Machop flexing at Ghastly as if daring it to fight. Rivalry gleamed in her eyes, bright and sharp.
And Ren knew, with the kind of certainty that came from living this story once before, that his quiet little haunted house dream had just gotten a lot more complicated.