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As Austin zipped up his well-packed backpack, he took a step back to assess the weight on his shoulders—both literal and metaphorical. Inside the bag was everything he thought he might need for the road ahead: extra clothing, a lightweight tent, a sleeping bag and pad, several bottles of Pokémon Repel, and a lighter tucked safely in a side pocket. Practical tools for someone heading into the unknown. Yet, as he added Pikachu's special battery and neatly stacked Tupperwares filled with dehydrated and freeze-dried food, his thoughts lingered on a question that had been nagging at him since waking up in this world.
Did he have to follow Ash's path exactly? Did he need to collect every single Pokémon that Ash had captured over his journey? The sheer thought of it felt daunting. It wasn't just the logistics—it was the idea of living someone else's life, following their footsteps so closely he couldn't see where his own journey might lead. Wouldn't that defeat the whole point of being here? Or was there some unseen force pushing him to stay on that path, whether he liked it or not?
"You ready to say goodbye to Viridian City?"
Pikachu's ears perked up, and he hopped onto Austin's shoulder, nodding with a confident, "Pika!" The little Electric-type had been through a lot in the past few days, but if anything, his bond with Austin seemed to be growing stronger. Pikachu wasn't afraid of what lay ahead. Maybe Austin shouldn't be either.
Slinging the backpack over his shoulder, Austin made his way toward the Pokémon Center lobby. As he walked through the familiar space one last time, he glanced around at the other trainers—some waiting in line at the counter, others tending to their Pokémon or chatting excitedly about their plans. The air buzzed with the kind of energy only a place like this could have: the promise of endless adventure, tempered by the comforting presence of Nurse Joy and her team of Chansey.
Speaking of which.
"Heading out?"
"Yeah," Austin replied, stopping a few feet from the counter. "Just wanted to say thanks. For… you know, everything." He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to phrase what he was feeling. "Especially after the, uh, window incident."
"Don't worry about it. Honestly, I've seen worse. You're not the first new trainer to leave a bit of a mess behind. I'd say you're doing alright."
Austin laughed lightly. "Yeah, well, the 'alright' bar isn't exactly set that high right now."
Joy tilted her head slightly, studying him. Her smile softened, but she didn't lose the gentle confidence that seemed to follow her everywhere. "You're nervous," she said simply. It wasn't a question, just an observation.
"I guess. I mean… yeah." He glanced down at the Pokéballs on his belt. "It's just… a lot, you know? Feels like there's this mountain ahead of me, and I'm not sure I've got the right shoes for the climb."
"You've got more than you think," she said. "Most trainers starting out don't even realize what they already have."
"Like… what? A bunch of questions I don't know the answers to?"
She smiled again, smaller this time, but no less warm. "Like a team that trusts you. Like instincts that'll kick in when you need them to. Like the fact that you're still here, still trying, even when you're not sure of yourself."
He blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of her words.
"You'll figure it out," she continued. "One step at a time. That's how it works."
Austin nodded, her words settling somewhere deep in his chest. "I'll try."
"Good. And remember—there's always a Pokémon Center wherever you're going next. You've got more support out there than you think."
Austin managed a small, lopsided grin. "You're just saying that so I don't break another window."
She snorted. "That too. But mostly because it's true."
With that, Austin turned toward the sliding doors, his backpack snug against his shoulders and Pikachu's tail swishing gently beside his cheek. As the doors hissed open, letting the bright sunlight of Viridian City spill into the lobby, he glanced back over his shoulder.
"Thanks, Nurse Joy. For everything."
"Take care," she said simply. "And take care of them."
Austin nodded, stepping out into the morning light. The city stretched out before him, full of possibilities he couldn't yet see. Adjusting the strap of his bag, he glanced at Pikachu. "Well, partner, I guess we'll figure this out as we go."
The transition from Viridian City to the dense embrace of Viridian Forest felt almost seamless. As the paved roads gave way to dirt paths lined with towering trees, the air itself seemed to change, growing heavier with the scent of pine and earth. It wasn't long before the urban sprawl disappeared entirely, swallowed by the endless expanse of green.
Austin paused in front of a wooden sign at the forest's edge, its faded lettering welcoming travelers to the wilderness ahead. For a moment, he stood still, lost in his thoughts.
Okay, so let's set some ground rules for myself. I'm not going to be Season 1 Ash, he decided. That means no aimless running into every Pokémon battle, no careless captures, and definitely no catching 30 Tauros. He snorted at the mental image of herding all those Tauros. Maybe I'll catch one—or none.
He shifted his stance, glancing down at Pikachu, who stood beside him, tilting his head curiously. And who knows if I'll even have the chance to catch the same Pokémon Ash did, Austin thought. I've already changed things. I've got Rattata and Spearow. For all I know, someone else might've caught Caterpie or Pidgeotto by now.
Pikachu tapped his trainer's leg with a small paw, jolting him from his thoughts.
Austin blinked, then smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, buddy. Just lost in thought." He gestured forward. "Let's get going."
The two set off, weaving their way into the forest. As they walked deeper into the shaded expanse, Austin made a silent vow to himself: This is my journey. I'm not just going to copy Ash's path—I'm going to make my own decisions, forge my own bonds with my Pokémon. The thought gave him a surge of determination, even as his mind began drifting toward the future.
What kind of team would I want? He began mentally listing possibilities. An Eevee could be fun—so many options for evolution. Or maybe a Scyther? Scyther's cool. And a Ninetales? Definitely on the wishlist.
After hours of trekking, the initial enthusiasm began to wear off. His boots dragged a little more with each step, the forest canopy filtering the sunlight into patches of gold and shadow on the dirt path. The Pokémon Repel he'd applied earlier worked like a charm—too well, in fact. The lack of wild Pokémon encounters meant a peaceful, uneventful journey, but it also made the trek duller than he'd expected.
Eventually, Austin spotted a large tree with a thick trunk and plenty of shade. Gratefully, he dropped his pack and slumped against the rough bark, sighing in relief as he let himself rest. His legs ached, his shirt clung to his back, and his spirits had dipped significantly from when he first set out.
"Pika pi!" Pikachu chirped, pumping his tiny arms like a coach trying to rally his trainee.
Austin gave a tired laugh, shaking his head. "Let's not overdo it, alright?" He pulled a freeze-dried lemon slice from his pack and bit into it, the sharp tartness snapping his senses awake momentarily. "I'm just going to take a rest. You can explore if you want."
Pikachu gave an approving "Chu!" before scampering off, his yellow tail flicking behind him as he poked around nearby bushes and tree roots. Austin leaned back and let his head rest against the bark, watching his partner with a faint smile.
But sitting still only made him more aware of how dull the day had been so far. With a sigh, he rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a worn book—Pokémon Training for Dummies. Flipping it open to his bookmarked page, he started to read.
Before he could get far, a handful of loose papers fluttered out from between the pages. "Huh?" he muttered, picking them up and smoothing them out.
"Pokémon Tech Academy," Austin read aloud, spotting the label scrawled at the top of one page. He frowned, the name tugging at a faint memory. I've heard of that… somewhere. Shrugging, he turned his attention to the content, his curiosity piqued.
The notes were surprisingly detailed, written in neat but hurried handwriting. The section that caught his eye was titled Why Do Pokémon Need Humans?
According to the notes, Pokémon formed bonds with humans because they craved companionship—much like humans did. The theory, dubbed the Companionship Bond, suggested that Pokémon had a level of sentience comparable to humans. They experienced social needs, sought safety, and desired guidance.
Most Pokémon parents only care for their young for about a month before letting them go off into the world on their own, one paragraph read. This leaves many young Pokémon searching for companionship and guidance, which humans provide.
Austin's eyebrows furrowed as he absorbed the information. He'd always known Pokémon were loyal, but the idea that they sought out humans for emotional and social fulfillment gave him a new perspective. He leaned back against the tree, the notes still in hand.
"Is that why, in the games, wild Pokémon always pop out when you step into tall grass?" he mused aloud, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe they just want to be your friend…"
The thought was oddly comforting. He liked it.
Before he could dwell on it further, a rustling sound nearby pulled his attention. His body tensed instinctively, and he lowered the notes, scanning the area. A small pressure against his leg made him freeze. Slowly, he glanced down.
A Caterpie.
It was small and green, with a segmented body and a yellow underside. Its bright red antenna twitched as it stared up at him with wide, shiny eyes. For a moment, Austin just stared back, the absurdity of the situation hitting him all at once.
His mind raced. Is this… Ash's Caterpie? Or just a Caterpie? The idea made him laugh nervously. There was no way to know. It didn't really matter, did it?
The Caterpie, seemingly undeterred by his inner turmoil, began to climb up his leg. Its soft, squishy body pressed against his jeans as it pulled itself forward with surprising determination.
"Okay, little guy, easy," Austin said, gently placing his hands on the Caterpie to ease it back onto the ground. "No," he added softly, pointing at the Pokémon like he was trying to teach it boundaries.
"Pika!" Pikachu's sharp cry shattered the moment. Austin jumped just in time as a crackling Thundershock lit up the area. The air buzzed with electricity, the sharp scent of ozone filling his nose.
When the light faded, Caterpie lay motionless on the ground.
Austin's jaw dropped. "Sweet mother of goose, Pikachu, you're a monster. An irredeemable monster."
Pikachu crossed his arms and gave him a mock-innocent look, his tail flicking smugly.
"Alright, fine. Guess this means we're setting up camp."
Pikachu tilted his head, clearly confused.
Austin gestured at the unconscious Caterpie. "We've got a patient to take care of now, don't we?"
Pikachu perked up at that, his sulk vanishing in an instant. Austin chuckled as the Electric-type began rubbing against his leg, seeking forgiveness—or perhaps just confirmation that he'd be getting a snack out of this.
"Help me out, and I'll give you two snacks," Austin said, earning a cheerful "Pika!" in response.
As Pikachu darted off to fetch supplies, Austin glanced back at the Caterpie and sighed.
"What am I going to do with you now?"
Helping the Caterpie turned out to be simpler than Austin expected. A quick spray of the potion, and it looked better almost instantly, at least on the outside. He carefully placed it on his sleeping bag, watching it wiggle slightly as he began setting up camp.
"Thanks, Dad. You really taught me well," Austin muttered to himself as he worked. He could practically see his dad, the calm and patient way he used to teach him how to do things step by step. His dad never rushed, always making sure Austin understood every part of what he was doing. Now, as he laid out the tent materials in the fading light, those lessons came back effortlessly. His hands moved through the motions automatically, muscle memory guiding him as if his dad were still there, guiding him.
He and Pikachu moved in sync, as they often did now. Austin spread out the tent materials while Pikachu darted around, gathering small stones for the fire ring.
Once everything was laid out, Austin pulled out a Pokémon Repel, spraying a careful circle around the campsite. The scent hit hard, sharp and pungent, like a chemical barrier.
"Pika..." Pikachu groaned, rubbing his nose in disgust. Austin couldn't blame him; even he had to stop himself from breathing too deeply.
"If it's too much, you can go back to your Pokéball."
But, true to form, Pikachu shook his head stubbornly and pointed toward the trees and then back at the fire ring.
"Alright, alright," Austin laughed. "Try to grab some fallen branches." He settled down onto his sleeping pillow, watching as the sun slowly sank behind the treeline, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple.
He let his thoughts drift. How will the night sky look tonight? He wondered aloud, feeling a bit lighter as the first stars peeked through the darkening sky. There's something calming about watching the stars. It always felt like… like they were constant, unchanging, even if everything else in life wasn't.
Then he heard a soft rustle. Caterpie was waking up.
"You okay?" Austin asked softly, keeping his voice low to avoid startling the small Pokémon. The Caterpie stirred weakly, wiggling its stubby feet—nubs, really—like it was trying to reacquaint itself with the world after being unconscious for so long. Austin chuckled quietly, reaching into his pack and pulling out a piece of freeze-dried candy. He held it out, and the Caterpie cautiously nibbled at the treat before eating more eagerly.
Austin watched it closely, his smile fading into thoughtfulness. For a fleeting moment, the idea crossed his mind—maybe Caterpie was waiting for something. An invitation, perhaps? To join him?
The thought lingered in his chest, but the boy stayed silent. A tightness built in his throat, a familiar unease rising. He wanted to ask, wanted to offer… but something held him back. It felt wrong, like he should have offered more, but the words wouldn't come. Couldn't. He watched, frozen, as the Caterpie lingered for another heartbeat, then turned and crawled back into the undergrowth, vanishing into the sea of green.
Austin let out a slow breath, realizing only then that he'd been holding it. His heart raced, a strange mix of guilt and relief twisting in his chest. He pressed his palms against the rough bark of the log, grounding himself. What am I doing? he wondered. Could this one decision mess things up down the line? Will this come back to haunt me?
He shook his head, trying to shove the thought away, but it gnawed at him, stubborn and relentless. Before his spiraling thoughts could drag him down further, Pikachu returned, dragging a large branch toward the campsite with an exaggerated effort. The sight was so absurd that it snapped Austin out of his daze.
"Alright, alright," Austin muttered, standing up to help, brushing the dirt off his pants. The tightness in his chest hardened into resolve, like a knot pulling tighter. I will not emulate Ash Ketchum.
This wasn't Ash's journey—it was his. Ash had taken in a Caterpie and watched it evolve into a Butterfree. But Austin? He didn't need to follow that same path. Why should he invest in a Caterpie when he knew—knew—it might not stick around? The memory of Ash releasing Butterfree floated to the surface, and Austin's stomach churned. He couldn't afford to make decisions based on nostalgia.
He had to be practical. Every choice mattered, and taking in another Pokémon just because it felt right? That wasn't smart. It wasn't realistic.
Ash's Butterfree might've been special to him, but I'm not Ash, Austin thought firmly. And this isn't the same world.
The warmth of the fire wrapped around him like a blanket as he stirred the pot of tomato berry soup, its tangy scent mingling with the earthy aroma of dried berries, sweet potato chunks, and tofu bobbing in the bubbling broth. The flickering firelight cast soft, shifting shadows against the trees.
Austin ladled out bowls for Rattata and Spearow, who had just stretched their wings and legs after being released from their Pokéballs. The two eagerly dug into their meals, their tiny faces focused on the simple task of eating. Austin watched them quietly as he ate his own portion, sitting cross-legged beside the fire. The rhythm of their chewing and the crackling flames were oddly soothing, a small reprieve from the weight pressing on his mind.
But his thoughts wouldn't rest. To distract himself, he pulled out his Pokédex and flipped open Caterpie's entry—not because he particularly cared, but because he needed something to keep his hands busy, something to fill the silence in his mind.
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Encyclopedia Entry Number #10
Of the five Pokémon on the Japanese Continent that can learn String Shot, only Caterpie produces actual string. Weedle produces a weak fiber similar to cotton, used solely for the construction of textiles. Wurmple produces a smooth, silky thread that is pleasant to the touch, while Spinarak and Ariados produce a powerful adhesive.
For utility, however, none of these are as valuable as Caterpie string. It can be used in archery, to make ropes, or for a thousand other things, half of them improvised in times of scarce resources. Other fibers made from plants are occasionally used elsewhere, typically in places which lack trade links with Viridian City and its adjoining forest where most of Viridian's people work. The task is tough and thankless, for it requires extensive harvesting of leaves to feed the bug Pokémon year-round. The string after spraying must be collected by hand, they must avoid battling them (save for the few lucky enough to afford Everstones) as evolution weakens the string, and profits have never been very high.
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Austin froze mid-bite, his spoon hovering over his bowl. Japanese continent?
His brain scrambled to make sense of the words. What did that even mean—Japanese continent? Was it a mistake? A relic from the human world he'd come from? Or was this world closer to his own than he'd thought?
He set the Pokédex down, staring into the fire. How many continents are there in this world? He'd always assumed it was just the regions he knew from the anime—Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh and Unova. But what if there were more? Places the anime never showed? Pokémon he'd never even heard of? The thought sent his mind spinning with equal parts excitement and unease.
He glanced up at the sky. The stars twinkled like countless diamonds scattered across an infinite expanse of darkness, their light cold and distant. For the first time since he'd arrived here, the sheer scale of this world hit him. The night was vast, so vast that it made him feel small. Insignificant, even.
But when he looked back at his Pokémon—Rattata slurping her soup with gusto, Spearow carefully dipping his beak into the bowl—he felt a different kind of smallness. Not bad. Not empty. Small like a single thread in a sprawling tapestry, part of something so much bigger than himself.
Austin let out a quiet chuckle, leaning back against the log. "This is so much better than boring school," he said, mostly to himself. No walls. No droning teachers. No rigid schedules. Just him, his Pokémon, and a future that was his to shape.
This was freedom. This… was the life he had always dreamed of.
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The first light of dawn pierced through the trees, hitting Austin square in the face and dragging him out of the last remnants of sleep. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in protest. His body longed to stay wrapped up in the warmth of his sleeping bag, but the cold air and the dying fire had other plans. Reluctantly, he sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching until his muscles slowly came back to life.
As he glanced around the campsite, Austin didn't notice the pair of eyes watching him from the underbrush, too caught up in his own thoughts. Pikachu and Rattata were huddled together near the remains of last night's fire, still lost in their dreams. Spearow, on the other hand, was perched on a nearby branch, alert as ever, scanning the surroundings like he was always ready for action. Austin wasn't surprised—Spearow was built for intensity.
Just as Austin began to enjoy the quiet of the morning, the flap of wings broke through the stillness. His eyes shot upward, catching sight of a Pidgeotto swooping down, its brown feathers glowing in the early light. The pinkish-red on its head gleamed as it circled above, its sharp gaze locked on them. Austin recognized that look instantly. This Pidgeotto wasn't here to make friends.
Spearow was already locked in, his fierce eyes sizing up his opponent with that familiar intensity. Austin's heart raced—this was it. "Hey, Spearow, you up for a battle?"
The flying type answered with a loud cry, eager and brimming with fire. The shout woke the others. Pikachu shot to his feet, alert, his eyes darting between Austin and the Pidgeotto. Rattata twitched awake, visibly annoyed by the sudden commotion but not protesting.
Spearow wasted no time, launching himself into the air, feathers bristling with aggression as he locked onto Pidgeotto. "Fury Attack!" Austin shouted, his command spilling out before he even realized it.
Spearow became a blur, his beak jabbing at Pidgeotto with brutal precision. For a moment, Austin thought they had the upper hand. But Pidgeotto wasn't backing down. With a furious squawk, it flapped its powerful wings, swatting Spearow away like he weighed nothing. The impact hit Austin hard—Pidgeotto was fast, much faster than he had anticipated.
Before Austin could think of the next move, Pidgeotto followed up with a Quick Attack, rocketing toward Spearow like a bullet. "Twist while you're falling!" Austin shouted, hoping Spearow could react fast enough.
Spearow managed to pull off the maneuver, twisting just in time to dodge the hit and regain control. He was back in the air, but Austin knew they couldn't keep dodging. "Peck!" he ordered, hoping for a clean hit this time.
Spearow dove, but Pidgeotto was ready. In a move that made Austin's stomach drop, Pidgeotto caught Spearow's beak in its talons mid-dive, twisting sharply and slamming Spearow into the ground. The impact echoed in Austin's bones. His fists clenched as he stared at Spearow, urging him to get up.
Austin's hand hovered over Spearow's Pokéball, ready to call him back. This battle wasn't going the way he'd expected, and he wasn't about to let Spearow get hurt over a bad call. But then, before he could recall him, Spearow let out a defiant cry—a stubborn, fiery shout that told Austin he wasn't backing down.
Their eyes met, and Austin could feel it—the determination, the will to keep going. "You sure?"
Spearow gave a sharp nod. He was sure. Alright then.
"Leer and then Fury Attack!"
Spearow's eyes glowed with a fierce intensity, his glare cutting through the air like a blade. Pidgeotto responded with a blinding Sand Attack, and Austin felt his heart sink—until he remembered Spearow's Keen Eye. The sand meant nothing. Spearow could see right through it. With a final burst of speed, Spearow launched forward, his beak flying in a relentless assault. Pidgeotto tried to counter, but the onslaught was too much. After a few more brutal strikes, Pidgeotto faltered, collapsing to the ground, too weak to continue.
Austin let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. It was over. They'd won.
He rummaged through his pack and pulled out a gold berry, tossing it toward the Pidgeotto. The bird cautiously nibbled at the berry, slowly regaining its strength. Spearow squawked, his eyes full of confusion. He wasn't used to this—winning and then helping?
"You won," Austin said, kneeling beside him. "No need to take it too far."
Spearow tilted his head, still trying to understand, while Pidgeotto seemed to get it. With a nod of gratitude, it flapped its wings and flew off into the forest.
For a moment, Austin felt a twinge of regret. Maybe he should've caught it... But then he looked at Spearow, standing tall with his feathers ruffled but proud. He'd fought with everything he had, and Austin could see the potential in him. He didn't need another flying type.
Austin smiled, looking down at Spearow. "Yeah, I think I'm good with just one flying type."
There was a pair of eyes watching Austin and his team from the underbrush. Hidden in the shadows, the creature stayed perfectly still, its gaze sharp and unblinking. It had been observing them for a while now, its curiosity piqued by the commotion of the battle. As Austin and Spearow celebrated their victory, the eyes narrowed slightly, taking in every detail—the bond between the trainer and his Pokémon, the way they moved together, the way they fought.
It didn't move, didn't make a sound, blending seamlessly into the surrounding foliage. Whatever it was, it was watching, waiting, its presence unnoticed by Austin and his team.
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[ Author's Note:
I wanted to share that originally, I planned for Austin to catch both Caterpie and Pidgeotto. However, I decided against this to emphasize that this is Austin's unique journey, not a mere replication of Ash's. He will benefit from his knowledge of the anime, but he won't simply mimic Ash's path.
Austin will still catch a new Pokémon in Viridian Forest, and I'm curious if you can guess which one it will be. ]