Adamo Amet
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Chapter No.3 I Choose You Part 3
🕑 Added 2024-07-01 16:58:04 +0000 UTCAustin hurried back to the house, flipping through the pages of the book in his hands. Surprisingly, it was in English. He stopped for a second, his mind trying to process that.
Wait… shouldn’t this be in Japanese? He wondered, his brow furrowing. Or is it in Japanese, and I’m just seeing it as English?
His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp gasp. He looked up and froze. Delia—Mom—was standing outside, her hand over her mouth, staring at the book like it was some kind of alien artifact.
“Ash, is everything alright?” she asked, her eyes wide, darting between him and the book like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Yeah, he couldn’t believe it either. Ash and books? If he were in her shoes, he’d be just as shocked. He forced a smile, trying to play it off.
“Professor Oak gave me this awesome book to help me be the best trainer for Pikachu,” he explained, hoping the excuse would fly.
Delia’s expression softened as her gaze shifted to Pikachu, who was standing at Austin’s side. Her whole face lit up like she was seeing the cutest thing in the world. “Well, aren’t you a handsome boy?” she cooed, reaching out to pet him.
Austin opened his mouth to warn her, but it was too late. Pikachu was already bracing himself, his cheeks sparking lightly. But before he could let loose, Delia found the magic spot between his ears. Pikachu’s eyes went wide, then half-lidded as he melted into her touch.
“Chaa…” he murmured, looking like he was in heaven.
Austin blinked, completely dumbfounded. What the— How did she manage that? Pikachu practically roasted him earlier, but now he was a puddle of contentment in her hands.
That’s not fair.
“Your clothes are out on your bed,” Delia said casually, still rubbing Pikachu’s head. Austin could see Pikachu leaning into it, tail wagging slightly.
“R-Right…” Austin muttered, shaking his head as he headed inside. The feeling of familiarity hit him hard as he made his way up the stairs. It was Ash’s room, but now it felt like it was his too. He stepped in, spotting the clothes laid out neatly on the bed—the exact outfit from the first three season.
He changed quickly, pulling on the black shirt and blue vest, followed by the jeans, sneakers, and the red and white hat that felt too iconic for its own good. The moment he put on the fingerless green gloves, he stared at himself in the mirror.
Jesus… I’m really turning into him.
He looked like Ash, down to the last detail. The sight was unsettling, like he was losing pieces of himself the longer he stayed here. With a deep breath, he grabbed the backpack and headed back downstairs.
Delia had breakfast waiting. The smell of food hit him, but instead of feeling comforted, a pang of guilt gnawed at his stomach. She was smiling so warmly, so genuinely, like she was happy to see her son. But he wasn’t really her son. Not in the way she thought.
I’m not Ash. The thought was like a weight pressing on his chest. But what could he do? He didn’t cause this. He didn’t ask to be thrown into this world. He was just trying to survive. Trying to make the best of a completely insane situation.
Pikachu was already chowing down on some Pokémon food Delia had put out for him, looking completely content. Austin tried to get his attention. “Hey, Pikachu.”
He didn’t even look at Austin. Just kept eating, deliberately ignoring him.
Yeah… still a dick.
“Eat up, you’ll need your strength before your journey,” Delia encouraged, her voice full of warmth.
Austin nodded, forcing a weak smile as he started eating. He took small bites, chewing slowly, trying to keep his mind from spiraling.
Out of the corner of his eye, Austin saw Delia watching him, her brows furrowing in confusion. He could tell she was noticing the change. Normally, Ash—he—would be stuffing his face like there was no tomorrow. But he was eating slowly, methodically.
She wasn’t used to it. To him. And how could she be? Ash had been acting different since the moment Austin woke up. He could see the questions in her eyes, the slight confusion she tried to hide behind that smile.
Austin started stuffing his face in response, and the confusion melted into a warm smile on Delia’s face.
The grasslands stretched out around her like an endless sea of green, swaying gently under the soft whisper of the wind. The air was alive with the scent of earth and wildflowers—a peaceful place for most, but for her, it was a battlefield. Her stomach gnawed at her, a relentless ache that overshadowed the dull pain of the wounds she’d gathered from living out here alone. She was hungry. So hungry.
She crept through the underbrush, her small, purple body blending with the shadows. The coolness of the ground seeped into her cream-colored paws, the ache in her belly driving her forward. Each step was cautious, her narrow eyes darting around, ears twitching at every sound. Out here, everything could be a threat—or an opportunity.
The scent hit her like a wave, pulling her in, making her nose twitch with excitement. Food. Her instincts kicked in, sharpening her focus. She followed the tantalizing aroma through the tall grass, her heart racing with anticipation. She would eat tonight. She had to.
She slunk closer, belly low to the ground, until she spotted him—a human boy, standing there, staring off into the distance with wide eyes. He looked almost lost, like he was seeing the world for the first time. Her gaze zeroed in on his backpack, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst. That’s where the food was. It had to be.
He didn’t see her. He was too busy with whatever humans get fascinated by. Perfect. She moved closer, each step deliberate, careful. The hunger gnawed at her, urging her forward despite the fear that prickled along her spine. She had to be quick. In and out. Just grab something and run.
She was so close. Her heart raced, muscles coiled tight, ready to snatch whatever she could. But then—pain. Searing, blinding pain shot through her like a bolt of lightning. Her body convulsed, her fur standing on end as the electricity tore through every nerve. It was like her entire being was on fire, buzzing uncontrollably, her muscles seizing up in a helpless dance.
What’s happening? She wanted to scream, but no sound came out, only a faint whimper as she crumpled to the ground. She lay there, trembling, eyes wide with shock and fear. Why? Why this pain? She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was just hungry. She just wanted—
Her gaze met the boy’s. There was no anger in his eyes, only something else, something that cut through her deeper than any wound ever could. Disappointment. It felt like he was looking right through her, seeing something she didn’t even know was there.
She barely registered the Pokéball in his hand before it flew toward her. She tried to move, to run, but her body wouldn’t listen. The red light enveloped her, pulling her in, and everything around her went dark.
Was I wrong to be hungry?
Austin stood in the middle of Route 1, staring down at the freshly caught Pokéball in his hand. His first Pokémon. He should’ve been more excited, right? But he couldn’t shake the disappointment gnawing at him.
“Rattata…” he muttered, trying to find some enthusiasm in the name alone. Not exactly a thrilling start. But then again, this wasn’t a game. Plus, any Pokémon can be strong, he had to remind himself. That was one lesson that was always repeated in the anime.
Pikachu glanced back at him briefly, probably wondering why he was just standing there like an idiot.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Austin said, forcing a smile. “You did your part.”
Pikachu’s ear twitched as he motioned toward the backpack, clearly telling Austin to get on with it and open the damn ketchup. He rolled his eyes but complied, tearing open a packet and handing it to Pikachu. The little Pokémon latched onto it immediately, eyes half-closed in bliss as he sucked on it.
Austin shook his head, watching him.
“Let’s just get to Viridian City,” he muttered, more to himself than to Pikachu. “It’ll take a few minutes, and then… well, I’ll set you free if that’s what you want.”
Pikachu glanced at him, his expression unreadable. Part of Austin hoped Pikachu would stick around, but he knew better than to count on it. 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.
He sighed, shifting the Pokéball in his hand.
Just then, a sharp, piercing cry cut through the air.
“Spearow!”
Austin’s heart jumped into his throat. He spun around, every nerve on edge. There, perched on a low-hanging branch, was a Spearow, glaring at him with those narrow, fierce eyes. Its feathers were a rough mix of browns and pinks, and its beak—sharp and hooked—looked like it was made to tear things apart. It was small, but it didn’t need to be big to be dangerous.
Pikachu tensed beside him, sparks crackling around his cheeks as he prepared to attack. Austin raised his hand instinctively, stopping him.
“No, don’t!” he whispered urgently. Starting a fight with a Spearow was a bad idea. He knew how this went. One wrong move and it would call its entire flock. And he wasn’t ready for that—not even close.
But the Spearow’s gaze hardened, and Austin saw its beak open, ready to let out a call. Panic gripped him, his mind scrambling for a solution. He didn’t have time to think, only to react.
His hand moved on its own, grabbing another Pokéball from his belt. Desperation took over as he hurled it at the bird, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst.
“Spear!” the bird screeched, and then it disappeared in a flash of light as the Pokéball hit it dead on. The ball shook violently as it fell to the ground, rocking back and forth. Austin could barely breathe, every second stretching out into what felt like hours. He braced himself, half-expecting the Spearow to burst free and call its friends down on them like a pack of wolves.
But then, the Pokéball stilled. There was a soft, clear ding.
Austin froze, staring at it in disbelief. Did he just…?
“I caught it?” he whispered, the words barely registering in his own mind. He took a hesitant step forward, picking up the Pokéball and feeling its smooth surface under his fingertips. He caught it. He actually caught it.
[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. 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!
