Adamo Amet
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Chapter no.2 I Choose You part 2
🕑 Added 2024-07-01 16:57:04 +0000 UTCAustin 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 Austin.
He forced a smile, mustering every ounce of fake enthusiasm he could. “Oh, I’m fine, Professor. Just excited.”
Excited? Austin 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 Austin for a moment before he sighed and gestured to the Pokéballs. “So, who will be your choice?”
Austin 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,” Austin 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?” Austin 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,” Austin blurted out, his voice too eager, too desperate. He needed to keep moving, to keep moving before he woke up.
Professor Oak blinked at Austin’s urgency but nodded, pressing a button. A lone Pokéball, marked with a lightning bolt, rose up.
“I should warn you, there’s a problem with this last one,” Professor Oak said, his eyes cautious.
Austin’s heart hammered in his chest. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Very well then,” Professor Oak said, handing over the ball. Austin 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, materializing 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,” Austin 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 Austin’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 really here.
“Shocking, isn’t it?” Professor Oak’s voice cut through the haze, his tone casual, almost amused.
S-S-Screw you, Austin thought, his body still jerking uncontrollably, the words never quite making it out of his mouth.
Pikachu huffed, looking more annoyed than anything, like Austin had offended him personally.
Austin 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, Austin 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?
Austin swallowed hard, imagining his mom’s face when her son started acting like a hyperactive, Pokémon-obsessed kid.
Wait, that’s literally him.
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.
Austin stared at the Pokédex, turning it over in his hands before pointing it at Pikachu. Pikachu finally looked up, his brow furrowing, obviously confused by whatever Austin 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.”
Austin marveled 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.”
Austin blinked at the detail. It even listed Pikachu’s age? How had Ash survived half the stuff that happened in the show? Like, Pikachu should be able to incinerate him. That Flamethrower attack from Charizard should’ve been the end of 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 Austin out of his thoughts. Pikachu’s ears perked up, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Right. He remembered this part. Pikachu hated being inside the Pokéball. Austin smiled, hoping to smooth things over. “Nah, I think he’d prefer to stay out.”
Pikachu’s ears twitched, his gaze still suspicious. Austin 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, Austin thought, I’m off to a fantastic start.
Professor Oak scratched his cheek, clearly not convinced. “If you’re sure, Ash.”
Austin 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,” Austin 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, Austin thought, 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 forward.
Stepping out of the lab, Austin scanned the front of the ranch, half-expecting to see Ash’s mom waiting with that warm smile she always had in the anime. But she wasn’t there. There was no Delia.
Well, that’s one thing that’s different, he thought, though the relief was short-lived. A knot of concern tightened in his chest. How was he going to deal with her? Moms notice everything, especially when something’s off. What would she think if she picked up on the changes in him?
The possibilities played out in his mind like an endless reel of disasters. Would she think he was possessed by some ghost Pokémon? Maybe she’d think he was finally taking things seriously for once, or worse, that Pikachu’s shock had connected ash’s last two brain cells.
The thought made him chuckle, but the humor quickly faded. If she got too suspicious, it could lead to a medical evaluation. What would that even look like here? Would I end up strapped to some machine in a Pokémon Center, electrodes stuck to my head while a Chansey tried to keep me calm, and an Alakazam probed my mind, all while I desperately tried to explain why her son wasn’t acting like himself?
He shuddered at the thought, his mind spinning with worst-case scenarios.
“Pika.”
Pikachu’s voice snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts. Austin looked down to see the little yellow mouse staring up at him with an expression that clearly said, Get me out of here.
He hummed quietly to himself. Right, Ash only won Pikachu over because of the whole Spearow fiasco, he thought, considering for a split second whether he should try to recreate that scene. But that idea died the moment it formed.
No way am I doing that. What kind of butterfly—or rather, Butterfree—effect would that bring? He sighed again, realizing just how fragile this world felt. How much could he change? Would the universe try to stick to the plot no matter what he did? Or could he make things better—or worse?
“Come on, Pikachu,” he said, trying to break the tension. “Don’t I get the benefit of the doubt for not shoving you in the Pokéball?”
Pikachu just stared at him blankly, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Pika Pi,” he muttered, and although Austin didn’t know exactly what he said, the tone made it sound like an insult.
He couldn’t help but smirk. Even in this world, Pikachu wasn’t taking him seriously—especially while he was still in his pajamas.
Without thinking too much, Austin turned back toward the lab. As he stepped inside, the first thing he noticed was Professor Oak busy with paperwork. Then his eyes landed on something that made his heart nearly stop.
An Alakazam.
The Pokémon floated near Professor Oak, manipulating two brooms to sweep the floor using psychic energy, its silver spoons glowing faintly. Its narrow eyes and small mustache gave it a sharp, knowing look, like it could see right through him.
His pulse quickened. Could it read his mind? Was it doing it right now? Could it tell that he wasn’t really Ash? Oh God, was it going to expose him?
“Alakazam!” he blurted out, his voice a little too loud, a little too shaky. He tried to cover his anxiety with a deep breath, but his mind was spinning out of control.
Professor Oak looked up, oblivious to his internal freakout. “Oh, Ash, my boy! Do you need something?” He walked over with a stack of papers, completely casual, while Austin was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.
He couldn’t stop staring at the Alakazam, sweat forming on his forehead. Could it feel his thoughts? It had to know something was wrong. He had to get out of here.
“Oh, Alakazam is mine,” Professor Oak said with a chuckle, sensing his unease. “Don’t worry—she doesn’t bite.”
Bite? Yeah, I wasn’t worried about biting. I was worried about her ripping my mind apart with psychic powers.
“P-Professor,” Austin stammered, trying to pull himself together. “Do you have a book on how to deal with aggressive Pokémon? And… some ketchup packets?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could think, his eyes darting between Oak and Alakazam, who was now narrowing its eyes at him.
“Ketchup packets?” Oak looked at him, amused but a little confused. “Ah, trying to make friends with Pikachu, I see. Great start, my boy.”
He motioned to Alakazam to fetch some items, and Austin felt like he could breathe again—at least for a moment. But even as Alakazam floated away, he couldn’t shake the paranoia gnawing at the back of his mind. Did she know what he was thinking? Was she judging him?
Oak’s voice brought him back. “You might want to stop staring, my boy. People and Pokémon alike don’t appreciate that.”
He nodded slowly, feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet. He needed to get a grip.
Within moments, a book titled Handling Fury: Professor Samuel Oak’s Guide to Managing Aggressive Mons floated over, followed by a handful of ketchup packets. He grabbed them like a lifeline, muttering a quick “thanks” before practically bolting out of the lab.
The second he was outside, he leaned against the wall, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst out of his chest. He clutched the book and ketchup like they were going to save his life.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself, trying to shake the paranoia. He hadn’t expected this to be so real. “Didn’t try to run away?”
Pikachu frowned and turned away deliberately, clearly unimpressed. It stung more than Austin wanted to admit, but he wasn’t about to give up. He knew there was a way to get through to him.
Austin pulled out a packet of ketchup and carefully tore it open. The rich, tangy scent filled the air, and he squeezed some onto his palm, holding it out like an olive branch.
Pikachu hesitated, but Austin could see his ears twitching, his little nose wrinkling as he caught a whiff. Slowly, Pikachu inched closer, curiosity overpowering his initial distrust. He sniffed cautiously, then reached out a paw and dipped it into the ketchup, tasting it.
Austin’s heart swelled as he watched Pikachu’s eyes light up with delight. He knew it—ketchup was pikachu’s weakness. This was his chance to connect, to show Pikachu he wasn’t just some clueless kid.
Taking a deep breath, Austin placed Pikachu’s Pokéball on the ground between them, a gesture of trust. “Look, I know you don’t like the situation you were put into,” he started, his voice betraying the nerves he was barely keeping in check. He clasped his hands behind his back, trying to hide their trembling. Why was this so hard? It’s just a Pokémon, right? But… it was more than that.
Pikachu’s eyes shifted from the ketchup to him, his attention fully captured now.
“But I have a simple proposal.” Austin tried to sound casual. “You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours.”
Pikachu tilted his head, confused. He glanced at his paws, as if checking if something was on them. Austin almost laughed at the sight but managed to hold it in.
“What I mean is… help me catch another Pokémon, and when we reach Viridian City I’ll release you.” Austin trailed off, gauging Pikachu’s reaction. Pikachu looked genuinely surprised, his eyes widening as he squeaked, “Pika?” as if to ask why.
Pikachu didn’t get it, did he? No one had ever bothered to ask him what he wanted. “I imagined myself in your position,” Austin said softly. “Being told you have to travel with a stupid ten-year-old… I’d probably jump off the nearest cliff.”
It was a stupid joke, but it seemed to work. Pikachu snorted, a small smile breaking through his initial reluctance. Austin’s shoulders relaxed a fraction.
“So, deal?” Austin asked, holding out his hand, praying Pikachu wouldn’t reject it. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure Pikachu could hear it. Everything felt surreal—here he was, negotiating with a Pokémon, and yet it felt more intense than any conversation he’d ever had.
Pikachu eyed him for a moment, as if weighing his options. Then, with a small, deliberate movement, he stretched out his paw and met Austin’s hand.
“Pika.”
A simple sound, but it felt like a promise. Relief washed over Austin, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
