The Viridian Power was a rare gift, almost mythical in its scarcity. And since the original Ash in the anime had never shown any clear sign of possessing it, Ash couldn't help but think—maybe it wasn't something he'd ever had.
Sure, the old Ash had that uncanny ability to understand Pokémon, to sense their feelings and emotions in ways others couldn't. But that wasn't some divine power—it was just because of his pure heart, his empathy, and the deep bonds he forged with every Pokémon he met.
Well… that, and Pikachu's exaggerated facial expressions certainly helped.
Still, the fact remained—Ash had never displayed the healing or telepathic gifts associated with the Viridian Power. So even if the original him did have it buried deep within, it must've been dormant all along.
Now that he knew his new self possessed both the Aura Power and the Viridian Power, there was no way he'd let those gifts go to waste.
He had to awaken them—both of them.
"I know how to train Pokémon thanks to my system and my past life's experience," he murmured, resting his chin on one hand while spinning a pencil absentmindedly with the other. "But how the heck do I unlock psychic powers?"
His gaze drifted toward the white-framed window. Outside, the gentle breeze carried the familiar scent of Pallet Town—sunlight on grass, the chirping of wild Pidgey, and the rustling of leaves from faraway trees.
He'd already solved the first major problem—how to get a Pokémon early. His plan to "tame" a wild Pokémon or perhaps befriend a mischievous Ghost-type was still in the works, and he'd even asked Gary to check with Professor Oak about the legality of it.
But this new challenge—unlocking Aura and Viridian Power—felt like staring into a blank page.
He sighed, tapping the pencil against the desk. "Having power I can't use… is somehow more frustrating than not having any at all."
For the first time since arriving in this world, irritation crept into his otherwise composed mind. The system, the knowledge, the potential—it was all there, tantalizingly close, yet just out of reach.
...
...
Even when Delia called him downstairs for lunch, Ash's mind was elsewhere. He sat at the table, spooning rice into his mouth in silence, lost in thought.
Delia frowned softly, watching him. "Ash, sweetie, what's wrong? You've barely touched your food. Mommy made all your favorites today."
Her tone was light, but her eyes were full of concern. She'd raised him alone for six years—she knew his every habit, every mood.
Her little boy had always been energetic, cheerful, and endlessly curious. Never once had he sat there quietly like this, lost in thought like some tiny philosopher.
She smiled gently, resting her chin in her hands. "Ever since that accident, you've been so much calmer and more thoughtful. Mommy's happy, of course… but to see you sitting there thinking—oh, it makes me so proud!"
Ash blinked, finally looking up. "Mom, you're exaggerating. It's not that big a deal…"
He scratched his head sheepishly. "You're making it sound like I was some kind of idiot before."
Delia chuckled, her eyes warm. "Of course not. My Ash is the smartest, most wonderful boy in the world. Mommy's always been proud to have you as her son."
"Ah, Mom—stop, you're embarrassing me," Ash said, his cheeks flushing a soft pink.
"I'm only telling the truth," she said, her tone playful yet loving. Then her expression softened. "But tell me, what's been bothering you so much? Maybe Mommy can help."
Ash hesitated for a moment, then exhaled. "It's really nothing serious. Gary and I were just talking today about the future—about which starter Pokémon we'd pick when we turn ten. That got me thinking… is there a way to, you know, get a Pokémon earlier?"
He couldn't tell her about the system or his powers—not yet. So he went with a half-truth, something innocent enough to explain his odd behavior.
"Hmm… I see," Delia said, her eyes dimming slightly. Her smile wavered, replaced by a look of quiet guilt.
"Mom?" Ash blinked. "What's wrong?"
Delia suddenly set down her chopsticks. Her hands trembled slightly. "Ash… I'm so sorry."
Her voice broke.
Ash froze. "Huh? Sorry? For what?"
But she wasn't answering—her shoulders started to shake as tears welled up in her eyes. She covered her face with her hands, sobbing softly.
Ash's heart lurched. He quickly stood up, rushing to her side. "Mom! What's wrong? Don't cry—what are you talking about?"
Delia's voice trembled between hiccups. "Ash… I know your dream has always been to become a Pokémon Trainer—just like your father. But I… I was scared, sweetheart. I didn't want to lose you too."
Ash blinked, trying to follow. "Lose me…?"
She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Last year, when the League sent letters asking parents to start paying the Starter Registration Tax for their children… I didn't pay it."
Ash's eyes widened.
"So when you turn ten," she continued, voice breaking, "you won't be able to receive your official starter Pokémon from the League. You won't be registered as a Trainer. That's… that's my fault. Mommy was selfish, Ash. I just didn't want you to grow up and leave me like your father did…"
Her words came out in sobs as she pulled him into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, sweetheart…"
Ash froze for a moment, then sighed softly. He didn't feel angry. Not even a little.
If anything, he just felt… certain.
"So my old man really is gone, huh," he thought quietly, looking down at his mother's trembling shoulders.
He wrapped his small arms around her and patted her back gently, his voice low and steady. "It's okay, Mom. I'm not mad."
Inside, though, his mind was already racing.
No starter from the League? No official registration? That didn't matter. He'd already made up his mind to walk a different path—to raise his own Pokémon, train them his own way, and forge his destiny from the ground up.
Still, as he looked at Delia's tear-streaked face, his chest ached.
She wasn't a villain or an obstacle. She was just… a mother afraid of losing her son.
He smiled faintly. "Don't worry, Mom. I'll find my own way. Just you wait."
…
…