On this day, five-year-old Ash was walking alone through the forest behind Pallet Town—a place that wasn't to be entered lightly. The woods were known to be inhabited by wild Pokémon, some of which were short-tempered or aggressive. If an ordinary child were to wander in and provoke the wrong Pokémon, they could end up seriously injured… or worse.
"Based on the information I've gathered over the past few years," Ash muttered to himself, "this world is vastly different from the Pokémon world I once knew. There's a real gap between fantasy and reality."
He was here, deep in the backwoods of Pallet Town, searching for something—something important, ever since he came to this world.
Over the past five years, Ash had discovered that this world wasn't the idyllic place portrayed in the anime. Both Pokémon and humans could die in battle. Victory wasn't determined by a referee or a knockout—no, battles were brutal, judged purely by the strength of one's abilities.
Criminal organizations, or even ordinary trainers, fought with lethal intent. One careless moment, and you could be killed. To Ash's growing realization, this world was absurdly large compared to Earth—dozens of times larger. The populations of both humans and Pokémon were incalculable.
Fortunately, vast oceans and countless islands made up a large portion of this world, and the environment remained pristine. The air was fresh, the skies clear—it was, in a way, a perfect ecosystem.
Ash had come to this forest today for a specific reason: to test an ability he had discovered the night before—inner vision. He'd suddenly found that he could see into his own body, perfectly and in detail. Organs, blood vessels, bones, cells… even meridians—it was like having a medical scanner built into his eyes.
But when he tried using the same ability on others, it didn't work.
So now he was here, trying to find a Pokémon to test whether his ability could work beyond himself. Pallet Town was a peaceful place, and the presence of wild Pokémon was rare, let alone valuable ones.
In fact, most residents didn't even own Pokémon. Not even a Magikarp—the weakest of the weak. That alone showed how rare Pokémon were here.
Though weak Pokémon were easy to catch, they were still dangerous. In this world, even if a human was struck by something like Thunderbolt, they might only pass out temporarily. But physical attacks like Tackle or Horn Drill? Those could easily shatter bones.
And Poké Balls—oh, those were precious. Even the cheapest ones cost the equivalent of a full day's wages!
Ordinary families simply couldn't afford to raise Pokémon, unless one chose to follow them voluntarily. But that was rare. Raising a Pokémon, especially a combat-type, drained money like water through a sieve.
Luckily for Ash, the Oak family—his maternal side—had some influence and wealth. To him, expenses were a minor concern.
But it was a sobering realization: this world wasn't a child's fantasy. It was real. Knowing this, Ash threw himself into learning everything he could about it.
Sure, he could've gone to Professor Oak for help testing his ability, but it would've taken over an hour just to reach his lab. Instead, Ash had decided to take his chances in the forest.
"Pi… Pichu!"
Just as Ash was scanning the underbrush, a soft cry echoed through the trees. His ears perked up. Without hesitation, he ran toward the sound.
A minute later, he spotted a trembling bundle of black and yellow fur. A tiny Pokémon with rosy cheek sacs—an Electric Mouse Pokémon. It was a Pichu, and it had been caught in a hunter's trap!
Its short black tail was clamped tightly in a cruel metal snare, bleeding profusely. Ash's eyes widened. His fists clenched.
"Damn it… Someone's still setting traps for wild Pokémon around here? Looks like Grandpa will have to reinforce Pallet's defenses."
The Pichu looked up at him, its tiny eyes filled with pain and fear, silently begging for help.
"Hang in there," Ash said gently. "I'll get you out."
Something in his calm voice seemed to comfort the little Pichu. It whimpered but stopped struggling, its body trembling less violently.
With great effort, Ash forced the trap open. He was only five, and it took everything he had to release the clamp. Sweat dripped from his brow, and his arms felt like jelly, but he didn't pause to rest.
Blood was still pouring from Pichu's tail, and Ash knew it wouldn't survive long without immediate treatment. Being a small Pokémon, it didn't have much blood to lose.
Without wasting a second, Ash scooped the Pichu into his arms and sprinted back home. He was drenched in sweat within minutes, but he never slowed down.
In his arms, the injured Pichu whimpered and buried its face against Ash's chest, tears streaming from its eyes as if it knew it was safe now.
"Mom! Quick, get the medicine box!" Ash burst through the front door ten minutes later, calling to the beautiful woman sweeping the floor inside. "I found an injured Pichu!"
"Ash! Why did you go to the forest again? What if something dangerous had happened? It's far too reckless!" Delia scolded as she saw her son rush in, clothes muddy and scratched, carrying an injured Pichu in his arms.
Despite her scolding, she quickly set aside her broom and hurriedly brought out the medicine box.
Ash accepted the kit and immediately began tending to Pichu's wound. He poured alcohol on the injury, disinfecting the torn flesh on its tail.
"Pii…chuuu!!"
The little Pokémon let out a sharp cry of pain, twitching in his arms. Both Ash and Delia frowned in worry, but Ash didn't hesitate.
He reached for the wound ointment, gently applying it to the bleeding area before wrapping the tail with a clean, therapeutic bandage. His movements were precise and practiced.
Watching her son work, Delia's scolding tone faded, replaced by a soft, proud smile.
In Delia's eyes, Ash was her entire world. And she took pride in how quickly he learned. While other children his age were still playing in the dirt, Ash had already studied so much about Pokémon—training, care, even emergency first aid.
He wasn't just memorizing things. He understood them.
It could be said that Ash was already several steps ahead of most beginner Pokémon trainers.
After tending to the wound, the exhausted Pichu fell asleep in Ash's arms. He gently carried the sleeping Pokémon to his room and placed it carefully on his bed, covering it with a small blanket.
...
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