Ashes to Ashes

Those of you who read my fanfics in the past may remember a little gem of a fanfic explaining the origins of Ash Ketchum’s origin in the CWF as he is in my other works. Looking back, said fanfic wasn’t all too good and centered around a now defunct storyline. This fanfic, however, will set the record straight once and for all.

Usual disclaimers apply. These characters don’t belong to me...

P.S. I did a little research on fanfiction.net, and found said fic. It was called Falling Away From Me, and it was the first fic ever written in the Tales of the CWF storyline. Think of this as the remastered version of that old fanfic.

TIME: February 22, 2000

LOCATION: Boston, Massachusetts

“No! My Haunter!”

That was the shout from the red trainer’s box as the trainer watched his last Pokémon – his Haunter – taken down by a powerful thunderbolt attack from his opponent’s Pikachu. The crowd in the Fleet Center popped loudly as the victor was declared, winning this first to 3 second round match.

The tournament in question was the first-ever New England Invitational—the first Pokémon tournament ever to be held in the Fleet. A select number of Pokémon trainers from all over the world were invited to participate. To thin out the talent pool, one-on-one battles were conducted, and the top 64 winners were invited to compete in the tournament itself. Among the challengers was none other than a small Creole boy from a small town in Louisiana named Ash Ketchum.

Ash was a happy, warm-hearted boy without a care in a world and was fiercely loyal to those he loved. Like many children his age, he had dropped out of school to embark on a Pokémon journey. Despite many shortcomings and even greater doubt and animosity from his rival trainers in the beginning, Ash grew into a strong Pokémon trainer with a righteous reputation. During his travels, he did win several awards, most notably, the Orange League and the Puzzle League championships.

Believe it or not, he took a break from his journey after being unceremoniously ditched (ditched being the best word to describe it) by his friends Brock and Misty. Though it hurt Ash deeply, he eventually bounced back from this sudden loss. On his travels, he met a young martial arts adept named Gohan, who was spellbound by these creatures that fit into small devices that were either no bigger than a golf ball or the size of a baseball known as Pokémon. Coincidentally, Ash hadn’t thought of himself practicing martial arts until Gohan introduced him to it. Their fast friendship grew symbiotic—Ash showed him what training Pokémon was all about (it wasn’t as easy as it looked), while Ash started practicing the art of Jankenpo karate from Gohan, and eventually, his father Goku.

Right now, they were in the stands right now, partially because Goku volunteered to pay his entrance fee, Ash being strapped for cash at the time. They didn’t hesitate to snatch up tickets for good seats, for Ash’s sake. While Ash was gearing up for the tournament, natural disaster struck his hometown. Flooding on the Mississippi River had put the river delta area almost completely underwater. Outlying areas were hit just as hard, including New Orleans and its outlying suburbs and rural areas, namely Ash’s hometown—Pallet Town. When he heard the news, Ash was a nervous wreck, particularly worried about the safety of his mother.

His distraught demeanor was evident in the way he battled, obviously distracted by the uncertainty of his mother’s fate. No one other than Goku and Gohan knew of Ash’s plight, and that’s exactly how they wanted it…especially Ash. The last thing he needed was any distractions.

However, everything has its limits…even Ash Ketchum’s resolve.

His Pokémon could tell something was wrong, given his conduct. Usually when he won an important match (such as the one he just won…or for that matter, any match), he would sprint to his Pokémon out on the field, dancing, cheering and celebrating with the victorious Pokémon. It would often take surgery to remove the massive smile from his face. At this tournament, it wasn’t anything remotely like it. Pikachu dashed over to his distraught trainer and climbed up his body, coming to rest perching on his right shoulder. Ash absentmindedly reached up and scratched the side of Pikachu’s head and neck, still disconnected from the scene around him. Even as he battled, he was distracted, and as a result, made a few costly errors that would’ve cost a weaker trainer the match. It was a wonder Ash advanced as far as he did; everyone could tell something wasn’t right with the trainer from Pallet Town, but they didn’t know what exactly.

“Pikachu?” {“What’s wrong?”} Pikachu said to his trainer. The electric mouse was now very worried. His trainer seemed to be in a trance as he stared blankly at the battlefield, seemingly ignoring his calls. His trainer wasn’t even smiling. “Pika pi?” {“Ash?”} Pikachu tugged on his trainer’s hair slightly, trying to get his attention.

“Good job, Pikachu,” Ash said, not looking at his prized Pokémon. He let out a heavy sigh as he turned and disappeared back into the locker room areas.

Up in the stands, Goku and Gohan watched the battle from their seats. While the two were enthralled with the matches, they couldn’t focus on the action entirely, either. They were excited by Ash’s continuous success, but the dull, abstracted attitude put on by Ash was affecting them as well. It bothered one more than the other; Goku could understand why he would be upset, but not why he had to let it affect his entire character, while Gohan felt absolutely helpless. He and Ash were arguably best friends, and it pained him not being able to help his friend when he needed it. From Gohan’s perspective, Ash looked like he would break down and start crying at any second.

“Man,” Goku said, jarring Gohan from his thoughts. “That was pretty close, huh?”

“Yeah,” Gohan added dryly. After a moment, he looked up at his father. “I’m really worried about Ash, dad. Did you see him out there? He looks like he’s gonna crack at any second.”

“Yeah, I saw it too,” Goku replied. He stood up from his seat, looking down at his firstborn son, who did likewise. “Come on, let’s go see what’s up.”

Goku led Gohan down from the stands and through the arena, down to the equivalent of the “backstage” area. As they made the short trek, Goku pulled out the two VIP access passes and put one around his neck. He handed the other to Gohan, who followed suit. After flashing the badges to the guard at the security checkpoint, they were granted access. Goku and Gohan sought Ash’s dressing room without delay.

“Here you are, sir,” Nurse Joy said to Ash, delivering a tray containing his Pokéballs, his Pikachu running to his side as he took them. “Everyone’s all charged up and ready to go.”

“Thanks,” he said, keeping his anxious tone in check.

“Good luck in your next match, tonight!” she boded as she left, shutting the door.

Once his battle was finished, he promptly retreated to this little hole in the ground designated for him. Normally, the pressures of battling in front of a huge audience did little to faze him. But given his heightened state of unease and apprehension, he felt much more vulnerable than normal. It was more than just nervousness or “stage fright”, but not enough to be considered fear.

With a heavy sigh, Ash flopped down on the dark blue sofa resting against one wall of the dressing room, leaning back and putting his hands through his hair. His hat became unsettled from its spot on top of Ash’s head, so he tosses his head to the side, letting it land on the couch next to him. Pikachu, happy to be back with his trainer, scurried up to his trainer’s lap, plopping himself down and looking up at his face, as weary as it was. Ash looked down and smiled at his prized Pikachu. No matter how upset or mad he was, he couldn’t take it out on his friend.

Ash had one more match to battle in tonight. Should he win, he would advance into the sweet 16, and would return to the Fleet Center the next day to compete in the third round, and possibly the fourth, semifinals, and the finals, if he were good enough. Ash couldn’t wait, regardless. Visions of grandeur started to fill his head, and his mind’s eye saw his victory. He saw himself ordering Pikachu to execute the final blow. He saw himself in the middle of the Fleet Center, arm raised in victory. He saw himself hoisting a very large gold trophy over his head with both hands raised above his hands.

Then he saw himself hauling said trophy back home to his ecstatic mother.

His mood shifted, now overcome with fresh anxiety. For the past few days, he had been haunted by thoughts of the worst that could happen to his mother. It didn’t help any that the disaster was all over the news. Images of his home town of Pallet Town under water disturbed him dearly. Beautiful fields were completely submerged by dirty floodwaters. A few roofs were all that was visible of the houses that lined the streets. Pallet wasn’t a big town to begin with, and the damage done by this flood could be irreversible. It was at the point where the U.S. Government declared Louisiana to be in a state of emergency. It was a very dire situation, indeed.

The sound of the doorknob turning pricked his ears, and a soothing, yet troubled, voice traveled to his ears thereafter. “Mr. Ketchum?” Ash looked up and saw an Officer Jenny peering in. “Mr. Ash Ketchum?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he answered listlessly.

“Could you step out here for a moment, please?” She disappeared, leaving the door wide open. More anxious than ever, Ash got up from his seat and walked out of his room as ordered. What did he do to get the cops up his ass?

“Y…yeah?” Ash answered, shakily. Jenny was standing up straight, her hat tucked under her left arm.

“Mr. Ketchum, it is with deep regret that I deliver this news to you,” she started. Ash’s hart dropped. “National Guard forces were searching through what was left of your hometown a day ago…and…they happened across a number of civilians and Pokémon killed by the flood.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Unfortunately, young man… your mother was among the fatalities.”

Ash’s eyes grew wide and his lower lip quivered. No…

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ketchum. Your mother is dead.”

Ash’s world began to fall apart, and fast. His eyes were glazed over and his stare was cold and blank. He lost all track of time and location, zoning out completely. He was lost in his own world as he slowly walked away. No…!

Jenny’s heart sank as well, knowing the young boy wouldn’t handle the news of his mother’s death. The kid looked like a shambling corpse, his skin had turned so white. He was visibly shaking and his breathing came in stuttering rasps. Tears ran down his face like someone poured a bottle of water over his head. “Are you all right?”

Ash moved slowly, then began to walk more quickly. Eventually, he broke into a run, sobbing hysterically all the while. He stopped for nothing, still mentally and emotionally disconnected from the rest of the world. A few other trainers and security personnel saw the disturbance and their attention was drawn to the site, but Ash didn’t acknowledge them in the least…unless he was violently plowing passed them in a tear-stained frenzy. The sobbing, heartbroken boy kept running until he plowed through an exit to the parking lot, whereupon he staggered a few more steps and collapsed to his hands and knees, crying wildly. His breath escaped him at some points, causing Ash to let out a chorus of choked sobs.

“No!” he wailed, burying his face in his hands. “It can’t be true! It can’t be!” His loud, anguished wail resounded throughout the bowels of the arena as rain began to fall on the city.

The officer that delivered the bad news to the now orphaned Ash Ketchum ran into a large, muscular Japanese man and his 11-year-old son not too long after Ash departed. Reluctantly, she broke the news of Ash’s mother’s death, and they were shocked in their own right. Goku was solemn about it, while Gohan was near crying himself. Their hearts went out to the poor boy. They couldn’t picture the sorrow he must’ve been going through.

“So, what’s going to happen to him?” Goku asked.

“Funeral plans are in the works as we speak,” Jenny explained, “and he has to come down to Pallet Town within the next few days to identify the body, being the only known living relative. Legal protocol, you understand.”

“I see. Wait…only known living relative?” Goku’s head cocked to the side. “What about his father? She is married, right?”

“Legally, yes. However…he had walked out on her and her son some time ago. No one’s seen or heard from him since.”

“He doesn’t have any uncles or aunts or grandparents to take care of him? If that’s the case, then…where will he go?”

“That…I can’t say for sure.”

“Where did he go?” Gohan asked, on the brink of tears himself. He was very worried about his friend, and wanted to do something…anything in his power to console his friend.

“Um…” She turned around and pointed down a long corridor. “I saw him take off in that direction a few minutes ago.”

That was all Gohan needed. He took off like a bullet, racing through the hallway with blazing speed.

Gohan slowed and came to a halt as he noticed a big exit door ajar. He glanced outside and noticed it was starting to rain heavily. He was about to walk away when the sound of soft crying caught his ear. Stepping outside, he saw Ash sitting on the ground, legs drawn up against his chest, his head on his knees. Nothing that resembled talking came out of his mouth, with the exception of the occasional “mommy”. The sight saddened Gohan deeply.

It was hard to judge how long Ash had been crying, but the choked up sobs and whimpers he was letting out gave a pretty good indication. “Hey Ash,” he said, just loud enough for Ash to hear him. “I…I heard about your mother.” No response came from Ash. Gohan took a step closer, reaching his hand out to him, slowly. “Are you gonna be alright?”

Ash felt his friend’s hand lightly touch his shoulder, but only for a second. He violently shoved it away. “Leave me alone,” he groaned, not looking at his friend.

“Ash? Come on, man. I’m just trying to help—”

For better or worse, a real reaction finally came out of the heartbroken youth. He snapped up to his feet and spun around on a dime, coming face to face with the only friend he currently has. “Shut up! Just shut up, alright?!” he shouted. “Your mother’s still alive, so why don’t you just get the fuck out of here?!”

Gohan’s eyes were wide as saucers. He took a step back, aghast at his friend’s appearance. Though his face displayed looks of rage and pure, unbridled anger, deep down that was not what he was thinking. His face was red and smeared with his tears, and his breathing came in short, feeble hiccups. His eyes were as red as the red on his Pokéballs.

“A-Ash,” Gohan said, meekly. Ash promptly turned away, hanging his head, shaking slightly. “Come on, I think you’re taking this a little hard…”

What Gohan didn’t see was Ash’s hands tighten into tight balls and his teeth flare out. His lips curled back into an enraged sneer, tears starting to flow once again. While he was still feeling a great deal of sorrow, a bit of anger was present now, and it forced its way to Ash’s surface, making its presence felt.

“How do you want me to take it?!” Ash shouted as he turned around, slamming his right fist as hard as he could into Gohan’s face. Gohan reeled backwards, shocked at his friend’s action. Now mind you, throughout his training, Gohan was hit much, much harder by his father and his martial arts allies in the past…in much quicker succession…for longer periods of time. However, there was a great deal of contrast between his training and this incident. In his training, getting hit, getting knocked around, getting beaten down, they were all meant to help Gohan get tougher, to get stronger. Sure, the physical pain had varied from mild to intense, but he shrugged it off after not too long. This, on the other hand…

The driving factor behind Ash’s fist was all the hurt, all the anguish, all the sorrow he was feeling over the loss of his mother—the only person he had left in his world (family-wise, anyway). To Gohan, Ash’s emotional distress manifest felt as bad – even worse, perhaps – as taking a Kamehameha from his Super Saiyan mode father at point blank range.

In that single moment, Ash had hurt Gohan more than anyone in the world had hurt him before.

“Do you want me to kick your ass right here and now?!” Ash screeched. “Get away from me! I don’t wanna see you for the rest of the night, alright?! GO AWAY!!!”

Gohan was completely speechless. As if Ash’s lashing out didn’t shake him enough, his words completely unnerved him. In his enraged state, Ash would be capable of doing so much more to him, Gohan assumed. Emotion can alter the way people think and cause them to do things they wouldn’t do if they were thinking straight. He didn’t want to verbally admit it, but the look Ash gave him scared the hell out of him. With not another sound, Gohan took a few slow, nervous steps back, then ran for the door, leaving Ash behind.

All the anger that swept over Ash had left him just as quickly. Sorrow compounded now, realizing that he had lost not only his mother, but the only friend he had left in this world as well. Ash was truly alone. Giving up, Ash turned away from the arena and ran into the night, cold rain in the cold February night pelting his crying body.

“Dad!” Gohan called, racing back to his father, who was still talking to Officer Jenny. The two looked at the boy, both noticing the bewildered look in his eyes. In the time Gohan went to look for Ash, Jenny debriefed Goku on Ash’s status. His mother was dead – that much had been established – and there were no other living relatives available. Goku had asked about a father, but Jenny could provide little information. What she could tell him, though, was that the man in question, Marshall Ketchum, was an alcoholic and abusive to his wife and son…until Ash was around seven, when he simply picked up and disappeared without a trace. Since then, the late Delia Ketchum was working two jobs to provide for her and her son, many times working herself to the brink of exhaustion. She continued living like that even after Ash departed for his Pokémon journey and kept working day in and day out until the day she died. Her body was found in the basement. The doorknob broke as she tried to escape, trapping her and her Mr. Mime down there. Both had drowned.

“Yeah, Gohan?” Goku asked. “Did you find Ash?”

“Well…yeah, I found him,” Gohan started, “but he’s in really bad shape.”

“I figured as much,” Jenny said. “Then again, I didn’t expect him to just go about his day after hearing the news.” She looked at Gohan. “I take it he’s in no shape to battle, then?”

“Hardly. You might as well tell the judges he forfeits the next round.”

“Where is he now?” Goku asked.

“Pi ka!” {“Is he all right?”} Pikachu chirped from atop Goku’s shoulder.

“Um…he was just outside the building…” he pointed down the corridor he just came from, “…down that way. But I don’t know if he’s still there or not. I mean, he wouldn’t stop crying…and he was really…in a bad mood.” That was the best way Gohan could describe Ash’s little temper tantrum as he tried to comfort him. Gohan left him there to his own devices, not knowing what he would do in his fragile mental state.

“Well, I guess we better go get him before this night gets any worse. We’ll take him with us when we head home.”

“Where’s home?” Jenny couldn’t help but ask.

“Japan. My wife’s expecting a child any day now. We have to get home in time for the delivery, ya know?”

“Oh! Congratulations, then!”

“Heh, thanks.” He looked at his firstborn son. “Come on, show me where he is.”

Gohan led his father and Pikachu down the path he had taken, leaving Officer Jenny to walk off in the opposite direction. No doubt she was going to tell the judge that Ash was unable to battle due to “a family emergency”, as she would call it. No need to have the poor boy hounded by parasites in the media, more concerned with a scoop than the welfare of a recently orphaned boy. They walked down the dull hallway until they found the exit Gohan used earlier, but when they pushed the doors open, they didn’t find what they expected to find.

“Ash?” Gohan called, noticing his friend’s disappearance. “Ash? Where are you?” Panicking, he began looking around, eventually catching the confused eye of his father. “I-I don’t get it! He was right here just a few minutes ago!”

Goku was at the threshold when Gohan started frantically looking for Ash, and when he stepped out a few steps, he was greeted by a downpour. The rain had grown worse since Gohan last saw Ash, and he worried where he could be. “Where did he go?” Goku asked.

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Gohan answered, panicky.

“Alright, calm down,” Goku coaxed. “We’ll find him.” He then noticed a security guard patrolling the area. He noticed the two strangers, and shone his flashlight on them. Before the guard could ask what they were doing down there, Goku asked questions of his own. “Excuse me!” he called. “You didn’t happen to see a little boy running around down here, did you? About…this high, blue jacket, red and white ball cap?”

“As a madda a fact,” the guard answered, his thick Bostonian accent not too pleasing to the Saiyan’s ears, “some kid was out here not too long ah-go, bawlin’ his h’art out all over da place.” He pointed away from the two, to his right. “He ran off in that direction somewhere a few…” When the guard looked again, Goku and Gohan had disappeared without a trace. “…minutes…ago…ah, well.”

All the while, Ash was running through the rainy streets of Boston.

Tears were streaming down his face as freezing rain battered his tired body. After the nightmare realized that was his mother’s death and the unpleasantness with Gohan, all Ash could do now was run. Perhaps if he ran enough, he would be able to escape everything that had transpired within the last few hours—the news of his mother’s death, the falling out he had with Gohan, the tournament…

The tournament was the last thing on Ash’s mind now. He couldn’t even think of battling Pokémon in the shape he was in. All he could think about was the words that kept going through his head as he kept running. He ran and ran until he found himself bent over, his hands on his knees, gasping and wheezing. Ash was barely aware of his surroundings until he reached his hand out, hoping to lean against a wall, when his hand found a thick, steel cable. It was part of a suspension bridge. Ash had run onto a bridge over a river some 100 feet below.

Ash saw the dark water below, churning in the rough winds. It looked so empty…just like his life had become. Wait…where did that come from? Ash asked himself. But suddenly, his thoughts drifted again. There was nothing left for him. Nothing at all. No home, no family, no friends…he didn’t even want to think about the monster he knew as his father. There was nothing left to live for. Without any of that, it all seemed so meaningless. Ash’s hand tightened around the steel cable as he brought himself to the edge of the bridge. A single tear slid down his face as he looked down into the water below, intent on being with his mother once again.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t sense the world around him. He didn’t feel the rain pelting his now numb face, he didn’t feel the wind whipping his body, chilling him to his bones, and he certainly didn’t hear a blue Lincoln Navigator as it came to a screeching halt in the opposite lane. The doors flew open, and Goku and Gohan ran over to him, pleading with him.

“ASH! WAIT!!!” they shouted, drawing his attention.

Ash’s face was stricken with agony as he looked at his friend and his father approach him. “What do you two want?” he snarled.

“Ash,” Goku started, “don't do this. Think about it, kid.”

“Think about what?!” Ash screamed. “About how much my life is fucking over?! Huh?! What do you want me to think about?!”

“Ash,” Gohan started, “please. Don't jump. I'm sorry about what happened to your mom. I really am.” He took a careful step towards his friend. “Come on, Ash. Stop this…”

“I wanna be alone…” Ash said, turning around, looking out over the bridge. “And besides…what do you two know?!”

“I do know this,” Goku explained, “It really hurts when you lose someone you love so much. Sure, nothing I say will change any of that, I know. But there are better ways to deal with your pain. Nothing is over, Ash. All we're asking is that you come back with us, and stop all this foolishness. We're really worried about you.”

Ash still didn’t want to listen. He hung his head, shutting his eyes tightly. He was shaking now, partially from the biting cold, partially from the effects Goku’s words were having on him.

“Listen, Ash,” Gohan started, picking up where Goku left off. “You…I love you, man. I mean, you're like a brother to me.” Gohan shed some tears of his own. “I don't want to do anything stupid, Ash. We don’t want to see you throw your life away like this. Your mother would not want you to do something this idiotic, would she?” He didn't get a response. “Please, Ash. Listen to us…”

As Gohan finished pouring his heart out to his friend, Ash found it difficult to turn his head away from him. The little bit of hope that had been buried deep within Ash’s soul had broken through the surface, gasping for breath in a sea of darkness. Even after the berating he gave him earlier, he was still here, concerned for his well-being. He hadn’t shunned him, he wasn’t afraid of or mat at him after what happened earlier. Ash discovered Gohan’s words had more weight to him than he could imagine; his simple presence out here was proof enough that he did care.

Carefully, Ash tightened his grip on the steel support wire, and nervously stepped onto the road. He slowly walked over to the two who had just talked him into not committing suicide. Ash looked at Gohan dead in his eyes.

“G-Go-han?” Ash stuttered, from the cold. “Wh-why are you crying?”

“Because…” he answered. “I feel so sorry for you…I don’t know what else I can do.”

And then, Ash threw his arms around Gohan, and cried even louder and harder into his shirt. "It's alright, Ash," Gohan murmured. "It'll be alright.”

As Goku also embraced the two, he noticed that all of Ash's clothes were soaked all the way through. “Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he said, walking the boys back to the car.

The drive back to the hotel was eerily quiet. Ash was too busy staring out the car window, shivering under several blankets wrapped around him that were formerly in the back of the car. Even if he wasn’t, a kid can’t be expected to hold a conversation given his current disposition. But there was one time when he did speak up, and that was to make amends. “Gohan?” he said.

“Yeah?” Gohan answered.

“Listen…I,” Ash was stammering still, mostly from being out in the freezing rain for so long. “Um, look…about earlier…”

Gohan knew exactly where this was going. “It’s alright,” he started.

“No, it's not alright.” He looked over at Gohan. “I know that I should have handled myself better, and I really didn't mean to yell at you like I did, okay?" He sniffled loudly. “I'm sorry.”

Their eyes met for the first time since they got in the car, and Gohan smiled reassuringly at his friend. “I understand.”

TIME: February 23, 2000; 1:47 PM

LOCATION: Pallet Town, Louisiana

Ash was dreading the return to what was left of his hometown.

After their plane touched down in Montgomery, Alabama, Goku, Gohan and Ash got into a rental car and drove roughly three hours to the remains of Ash’s home, Pallet, Louisiana. When they got there, they were in complete, shocked silence.

The land looked like it had been scrubbed down with a huge piece of steel wool. Buildings along Main Street looked almost completely gutted, and the trees had been wiped clean of their leaves—even the pine trees were bare. The majority of the houses were all but destroyed, save for a few that were on higher ground (such as the plantation of Dr. Samuel Oak, a Pokémon sociologist and Ash’s mentor.). Stations for the Louisiana National Guard and the Red Cross were scattered all over the town, providing food, clothing and shelter for the townsfolk, while helping to clean up the debris and sort through the bodies. Pokémon deaths were as bad as expected, but were mostly wild or stray Pokémon—they would be buried in a mass grave. The humans were laid out in a makeshift morgue. In all, 29 people died in the flood: 14 males, 15 females, and only six victims in all under the age of eighteen.

A guardsman led Ash through the morgue, Goku and Gohan a few steps behind him. He walked slowly, shambling almost. The bodies all had drapes over them, and they were lined up in two rows with plenty of space between them. The site of death all around him was disheartening, and it sent a chill down his spine. There were people other than military personnel around as well; they too probably had friends or relatives who lost their lives.

Finally, after a long, arduous march, the guard led the trio to the last body on the right. A sheet was draped over it as well, and the three could only assume that Delia Ketchum’s body was underneath, hidden from sight. Ash had only a moment to ponder his dead mother’s appearance, for seconds later, the guard pulled the drape back, exposing the body’s head and shoulders. At the site of the body, Gohan gasped and instinctively drew himself closer to his father. Goku and Ash’s eyes grew wide.

It would be the last time Ash Ketchum laid eyes on his mother.

Her face looked exactly as he remembered it, save for the lifelessness. Her russet hair, while matted to her body, was in the same style she had always worn it in—a ponytail that went down her back slightly and curved up to her right shoulder in the shape of a “J”. Her equally brown eyes were always so full of life they would shine like jewels…but now they were like dull pieces of glass. Ash was so shook by the site of his mother’s body that he didn’t hear the guard ask if this was indeed his mother. It took a bit of urging from Goku to get him to answer.

“Y-yeah,” Ash squeaked, just barely audible. “That…that’s her…” At this point, Ash could take no more. He turned and ran out of the morgue, nearly knocking down another guardsman in the process. Gohan pursued him, partially out of concern, partially to keep him from doing something really brash.

Goku was now alone with the body of Mrs. Ketchum. “So…” he started, “you’re Ash’s mom, huh?” Though she was dead, Goku spoke to the corpse as though it were alive, standing before him. “Ash told me a lot about you. He speaks so very highly about you…I can see why. Although…I wish I could’ve met you under more…pleasant circumstances. Listen…” he got down on his knees, putting his head level with hers, “I was told there’s no one left to take care of him. It’s a shame, too, to see such a promising young man like him go through this. I know you didn’t intend for any of this to happen; who does? But, no matter what happens…I’ll make sure he gets put into a good home. I promise you.” He stood up, and pushed his fingers down across her eyes, pushing her eyelids down over her lifeless eyes, closing them forever. “It was nice meeting you,” he said as he walked out.

TIME: The next day

LOCATION: Laboratories of Prof. Samuel Oak

Professor Oak was generous enough to pay for Mrs. Ketchum’s funeral, and held the wake in the parlor of his mansion. She had left an inheritance to her son in her will, but it was destroyed in the flood, essentially leaving her son with nothing. The poor boy had only his Pokémon and the clothes on his back. Not prepared for attending such an occasion, Goku and Gohan were at the wake in buttoned down dress shirts and khakis—the “nicest” clothes they had available. Ash was wearing the same outfit he had been wearing since he learned of his mother’s death a few days ago. Sadly, he was not in attendance today. He had brought himself up to the door of Oak manor, but couldn’t bring himself to enter. The second the door opened, Ash turned and ran, running for the Viridian Forest on the outskirts of town.

A number of her neighbors were there, paying their respects to one of their own. Another boy about Ash’s age, Gary Oak, the professor’s grandson, was there as well. Gohan knew about this kid, and how he and Ash had a bitter falling out years ago, before they set out on their journeys. Unlike with Gohan, Ash never made amends with Gary. Sitting on a folding chair a few yards away from the open casket was a kid a little older than Gohan, meticulously drawing the scene in front of him onto the last page of his sketchbook. He was Tracey Sketcher, a lab assistant for the distinguished Prof. Oak.

No more than a few minutes passed when Goku stepped foot into the parlor than the good doctor introduce himself to Goku. He was dressed in a black suit with a blue necktie, his face accented by wrinkles and bore hints of fatigue. “Excuse me,” he said, drawing the Saiyan’s attention, “I’m Professor Samuel Oak. I’m Ash’s mentor in the Pokémon world.”

“Hmm,” Goku mumbled, shaking his hand, “Ash has told me a lot about you. My name’s Goku.” He motioned to the boy with the long black hair by the casket. “Over there is my son, Gohan.” The professor nodded after acknowledging the boy’s presence.

“How had he been holding up?” the Professor asked.

“Not well,” Goku sighed. “He’s spent most of the last few days crying his eyes out. I mean, he’s a total wreck.”

“I figured as much. Ash always was a bit of a ‘mama’s boy’.” He let out a slight laugh. “We would bust his chops occasionally about it, but that was all. He’s…very touchy. But he loved her so much. She was such a dear, sweet woman.”

“Yes, so I’ve been told. But what troubles me the most is what will happen to Ash now that he is…well, alone. Do you have any thoughts?”

The Professor sighed, and after a long pause, continued. “I have had inklings as to what the boy’s fate will be. And, unfortunately, most of them are not very pleasant.” As he spoke, he led Goku out of the room, away from prying ears. “One could easily say, ‘He will get put in an orphanage’. But the thought of such a vast reservoir of potential wasting away for years on end without any nurturing…saddens me greatly. I’m not just saying this as his mentor, but Ash has what it takes to do great things in his lifetime.

“And while we’re on the tangent of orphanages, think of who would adopt him. People are forgetting that Ash is an eleven-year-old boy. He’s still very impressionable. God knows what kind of warped view some people have of our world…and I don’t want Ash to end up like that, either.” He hung his head. “Oh, it’s such a dreadful situation to be in.”

“I know.” He held his head down for a second, lost in thought. Then, he looked back at Professor Oak. “Well, haven’t you ever considered adopting him?”

Professor Oak’s face fell and he let out a low breath. “I have. Believe you me, I have. But…I am loathe to admit it, but I’m in no shape to raise a child.” He spoke slowly and in a low tone, despite their removal from the rest of the gathering. “I mean, look at me. I’ve dedicated my life to my work as a Pokémon researcher, and the years have not been kind to me. I’m over 60 years old, have suffered countless Pokémon-related injuries, a heart attack and prostate cancer…and the way the fates have set me up, I should be grateful I lived as long as I have. My health has deteriorated, Goku. I’m not a young man anymore. The truth is I would take Ash in if I could, physically. If I did, I would probably give out earlier than I should.”

He took a step forward, looking into Goku’s eyes. “But you, you look like the sort that can provide a home for the boy…even if it is thousands of miles from his native land. I can tell just by looking at you—strength, discipline, compassion…you seem to have that air about you…”

Goku paused to consider the old sage’s words. While he had at least twenty or thirty years on the Saiyan, both were on the same train of thought for what to do with Ash. Unfortunately, it seemed like the only options available did not quite fit the bill. And more importantly, Goku made a promise to Mrs. Ketchum that he’d give the boy a good home…a promise he intended to keep no matter what the cost.

Goku knew what had to be done.

He put his hand reassuringly on the old man’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about him,” he said with a smile, “I’ll make sure he’s taken care of.”

The old man smiled. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, Goku. I would help you out more, but I don’t think I’d last two months trying to raise a boy like him and continue my work.”

Goku turned and walked away, looking back over his shoulder. “You can count on me, professor.” He went back into the parlor, and called Gohan over. After a round of good-byes to the other mourners, Goku and Gohan left Oak manor.

TIME: Five minutes later

LOCATION: Viridian Forest, edge of Pallet Town

Along the western edge of Viridian Forest, a hidden trail takes travelers up a dusty path to a cliff overlooking the valley where Pallet Town resides. When the sun set over Pallet Valley, the sun hitting the countryside painted a beautiful array of colors across the landscape, making the landscape radiate beauty. However, when it was cloudy, rainy or stormy, the whole valley seemed to be a hundred different shades of grey.

The grey landscape made the whole town look dismal. With the major flooding that just recently let up, the valley looked even bleaker under the grey sky. Ash normally wouldn’t want to at such a dreary scene before him, but considering the landscape housed his now-ravaged homeland, it didn’t seem to matter much.

“Look out there, Pikachu,” Ash murmured to his prized Pokémon. “Everything we knew and loved…it’s all ruined. This was once beautiful…but now it’s a wasteland.”

“Don’t talk like that, Ash.”

Ash jumped up and turned around with a startled shout, turning to his newfound guests. Standing at the clearing were Goku and Gohan, smiling warmly at him.

“Hey, Ash,” Goku started, “how are you holding up?”

Sighing, Ash slowly sat back down, looking down at the dismal Pallet Valley. “I’ll live,” he muttered, just loud enough to be picked up by the Saiyans’ über-sensitive hearing. After a long, awkward pause, he continued. Ash was louder this time, but not too much. “So…have they decided just where they’re gonna put me?”

“‘Where they’re gonna put you’?” Gohan asked, “What are you talking about?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” he answered. “They’ve probably decided what foster home or orphanage or whatever they’re gonna stick me in now that I’m an orphan, haven’t they?”

“Well…not really,” Goku said. He and Gohan walked over to where Ash was sitting, and sat down beside him—Goku on the right and Gohan on the left. “Maybe you didn’t notice this – and neither did anyone else at first, really – but they were leaving out one critical detail in all this…what you would want. Just recently did it dawn on them, ‘Hey, maybe we should see what Ash wants to do, people!’ So, that’s what they’re doing. They haven’t made any decisions yet, because they want you to have a say in where you go.”

Ash hung his head again. “Doesn’t matter,” he groaned, “no matter what happens it’s all gonna end up in the same fashion. It’s over.”

“Ash…” Gohan sighed.

“Come on, Ash,” Goku finished, “don’t talk like that. I know you’re going through a tough time right now, and it’s wrong to expect everything to come so easily for you. I also know that you don’t think so, but everyone’s really worried about you. They have your best interest in mind, Ash…we only want what’s best for you.”

Then maybe they should act like it sometime, Ash thought.

“Listen…I have a suggestion for you,” Goku continued. The tone of his voice made him sit up and pay attention. His eyes were wider than usual, his attention on Goku unyielding. “Now…I know things aren’t very bright for you here. I had already discussed this with Gohan earlier, so it’s no surprise to him what I’m about to suggest.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “How would you like to come and live with us?”

Ash was silent for the longest time after hearing Goku’s suggestion. Live…with them? “But…don’t you live in Japan?” Ash asked, quite skeptical. No matter how he saw it, Ash would wind up living with strangers—either strangers in a familiar land or strangers in a foreign land, it would seem.

“So?”

“So…that’s thousands of miles away! I…I’ve never been there! I don’t speak Japanese, that’s for sure! I’d…I’d stick out like a sore thumb…I’d be the perfect stereotype of the baka gaijin…” [stupid foreigner]

“No you won’t,” Gohan picked up, “we’ll help you out. Hey, have we let you down before?”

“Well…no, not really…besides, what’s it matter, anyway?”

“Think about this, then,” Goku continued, “of all the possible places you could end up, who among them came looking for you? Who took the time out to find you and want to talk to you about how you were feeling? Any of them?”

Ash was silent for a few moments, but answered again despite himself. “I had assumed at one point I would just live with Professor Oak…”

“He would if he could, Ash, believe me.”

“Then why won’t he?” Ash was filled with a mix of worry and disgust.

“I think it’d be better if you heard the truth from him.” Goku put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, causing him to look back up at him, eyes wide. “Listen…you’re a really special young man, you know that? It would be an awful shame if your talents were gone to waste in some orphanage until you were old enough to be kicked out…or some foster family who has a hidden agenda. Give us a chance, Ash. You’ll have anything you could ever need or want, as long as you trust us…”

“Hidden agenda? What did you mean by that?”

“I’m just saying you don’t know what kind of people you could wind up with…you think they tell adoption agencies everything about what they do?”

Ash was silent again. These new questions put more doubt in the boy’s head, and he was second-guessing a lot more now. He bowed his head and closed his eyes halfway.

“Ash…”

“It’ll be fun, Ash,” Gohan said after a long pause. “It’d be so cool having you around. We’d be brothers! Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

Despite his dreariness, Ash smiled at the notion. He and Gohan had always had fun together despite not knowing each other for very long. Sure, they got into a bit of mischief here and there, but it was all in good fun. Ash’s thoughts were brought back to that night in Boston, where Ash was on the bridge, ready to plummet to his death. They had pleaded with him, begging him to reconsider his actions. Looking back, Ash probably would’ve jumped if it weren’t for Gohan speaking up. You’re like a brother to me… Ash could remember those words as clear as daylight.

Suddenly, what Goku was saying earlier was making sense. If they didn’t really care about him, they wouldn’t have put forth such an effort to watch over him. They wouldn’t have gone out of their way to make sure he kept a hold on his sanity through this difficult time for him. They wouldn’t have stopped him from joining his mother.

Slowly, Ash looked up at Goku, a smile forming on his face. “Okay,” he answered. “I’ll do it.”

“Huh?”

“I said, I’ll go with you,” Ash said as he stood. “I want to take you up on your offer, Goku. I…I want to be part of your family.”

A few moments passed as Goku let Ash’s statement sink in. He too then stood up, Gohan following suit. He drew the orphan into his embrace. “That’s the spirit,” he said. “You won’t regret it, son, I promise.” Goku smiled to himself. Calling Ash the same thing he called Gohan – or even his other son that Chichi was still carrying – warmed him from within. The boy would have a loving home to go to, and they would all be home just in time to see the birth of their third child.

With that, the three gave one last look at the dull landscape before them, then turned and walked down the path they came up. Ash stuck close to his now stepfamily, the warmth of their love radiating off of them, instilling hope into the formerly hopeless child. “A kid as brave and hearty as you is truly a blessing,” Goku said. “Any father would be proud to have you for a son.”

Ash smiled, a tear forming in the corner of his eye. “Thanks, Goku,” he answered.

“You can call me ‘dad’,” he said with a chuckle.

“Okay…dad.” He felt a weight drop on his left shoulder, and he looked to the right to notice Gohan had draped his hand over his shoulder.

“Come on, let’s go home, little bro,” Gohan said.

Ash said nothing, but put his arm up around Gohan’s shoulder the same way he did to him.

THE END.

Well, there you have it. Remastered, revamped, new and improved. I hope you, my readers, enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

End program. © 2000-2003 by Tales of the CWF productions.