Pokemon : An Unexpected Journey

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"Praise Lord Helix!" Oddish exclaimed energetically, although to everyone watching, it seemed like the little Pokémon was simply cheering its own name along with its partner, Omanyte—Steve.

"Praise me, my disciple! Praise Lord Helix!" Steve chimed in, his tentacles raised. It was a dynamic double battle, with Oddish and Omanyte pitted against a Venusaur and Pinsir.

Yellow could only manage a bewildered sweatdrop as she watched the spectacle unfold. Steve had indeed succeeded in making Oddish his first disciple in the quirky cult of Lord Helix.

"Trainer Yellow is the winner!" the referee announced, bringing the battle to a decisive close.

As the crowd's applause filled the arena, Yellow sensed Pikachu and Chu-Chu approaching her, each carrying a water bottle and slices of orange berry. 

Is this your plan, Austin?

"Pikachu, Pika!" the duo squeaked happily as Yellow took the water and refreshed herself. 

She glanced towards Brock and Misty, noting without even needing to use her powers the absolute shock etched on their faces. 

Whether their astonishment was due to her performance in the battle or simply the presence of Pikachu, she couldn't quite tell. 

....

Brock's gaze was fixed on the desk before him, his role as a judge at the event feeling more ceremonial than functional. 

Officially, he was there to announce outcomes and assess the trainers' performances for the audience. However, as the tournament progressed—a round-robin style competition—it became clear that Yellow was dominating in a way that bordered on mismatches.

Trainer after trainer faced her, and none could withstand more than two moves from her Pokémon. 

To the spectators, Yellow's matches were a dazzling display of power and skill, a spectacle of dominance. 

For her opponents, however, it was nothing short of a nightmare.

For Misty and Brock, witnessing Yellow's transformation was shocking. The Yellow they knew was easygoing, less competitive than Ash, and without a defined goal like Brock or a dream like Misty. Her journey had always seemed more about the experience rather than conquest. Yet, here she was, performing at a level that even ace trainers would envy. Her Pokémon were not only powerful but also displayed a level of health and vitality that spoke volumes about her care and training techniques.

As Brock mulled over Yellow's transformation, contemplating how she had achieved such a dramatic improvement and what special regimen she might be using for her Pokémon, Misty's voice suddenly pierced his thoughts.

"Brock!" she exclaimed, her tone sharp with shock.

Following her alarmed gaze, Brock's eyes widened as he saw Pikachu, confidently striding forward with a water bottle in tow. The sight triggered a single, sudden realization that made his heart skip a beat.

"Oh!" was all he could muster as a single thought dominated his mind: 

Ash was here

As the tournament drew to a close, Yellow emerged as the undisputed champion, effortlessly securing her victory against all competitors. 

"With the winner of the tournament will be presented with the ribbon prize. Judges, if you will," the announcer declared.

Misty and Brock approached to award the nervous Yellow her well-deserved prize. "Hey," Yellow greeted them with an awkward smile, sensing the tension.

"We were worried," Brock whispered to her.

"Let's meet at the second floor, cafe," Yellow suggested, eager to have a more private conversation. 

Brock nodded in agreement, while Misty, still processing the events, merely stared blankly.

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[Second Floor - Cafe]

The cafe was a bustling scene of Pokémon indulging in cake and coffee, with Austin sitting alone among them, his heart racing as he stirred another sugar cube into his coffee. Lucario, lounging on a Snorlax bean bag, remarked, "Calm yourself, brat."

Austin didn't respond, too lost in his thoughts. Pikachu, eyeing the coffee, squeaking, "Pika!" as if to remind him of the reality around.

"Don't worry, I am just thinking," Austin reassured his Pokémon, but his reassurance did little to calm his own nerves.

The sound of the door opening sent a jolt through Austin, prompting him to stand up and take a deep breath. 

Yellow entered with a smile, followed closely by Misty and Brock. 

A heavy silence fell over the group as they faced each other.

What do I say? 

What do I say?

Austin hastily pulled out a piece of paper, his hands trembling.

"A prepared speech? Is it to insult us like last time?" Misty asked sharply, her tone edged with past hurt.

Austin's heart sank. He crumpled the paper, let out a sigh, and mustered all his courage. "I am... sorry," he whispered, his voice echoing softly in the small cafe. 

Behind him, his Pokémon—Pikachu, Pidgeot, Fearow, Butterfree, Scizor, Ivysaur, Wartortle, Charmeleon, Kingler—lined up. Each of them bowed deeply. 

The rest of the Pokémon, who didn't share much history with Misty and Brock, in the cafe gave a quick bow, following their trainer's lead. 

They remained in their bowed stance until Austin was ready to raise his head.

Brock replied, his voice laden with regret, "We are sorry." 

His apology confused Austin, Yellow, and all the Pokémon present.

"As friends, we should have been there for you when Raticate died," Brock continued, stepping forward, his expression earnest. "I know this is too late, but I am sorry for not listening to you when you didn't want to go to the SS Anne. Maybe if I had thought with my head, things would have been different."

"It's not your fault, you didn't know that would happen," Austin said, managing a small smile. 

Suddenly, he found himself pulled into a heartfelt hug by Brock, the warmth and sincerity momentarily bridging the gap that had formed between them.

Misty, however, stood slightly apart, her gaze averted, unable to meet Austin's eyes. Her voice, when she spoke, carried a tremble of hidden pain. 

"I just want to know, why you said those things to us?"

Austin saw the melancholic tone she tried to conceal. 

"Truthfully speaking, I was angry at the world," he confessed.

"And us?" Misty pressed, her voice barely a whisper.

Austin shook his head, his eyes misty. 

"No, just the world and myself. I knew that you all would try to come to my aid, try to either help me or talk me out of it, and that made me afraid that my anger would turn towards you."

"So, you pushed us away using our insecurities as flames to burn the bridges between us?" Misty's voice cracked, on the verge of tears, as the weight of guilt and realization hit her.

"Yes," Austin admitted simply.

"Then what did burning that bridge do?!" Misty's voice rose in a scream, tears streaming down her face.

"It kept you safe," Austin replied softly.

Misty's hands trembled as she grabbed his collar, looking him directly in the eyes, her own filled with a mix of anger and despair. "What did you have to do to keep us safe? Brock and I are gym leaders; it was just a matter of paperwork and we could have gotten our original teams. Revenge?! We could've—" 

Her voice choked up, overwhelmed by the tumult of her emotions.

"I knew you two would've helped, but you would've been my chains, steering me in a direction I didn't want to go towards," Austin responded bluntly, his honesty stark and unbuffered.

"And what was that direction?" Misty gasped, barely getting the words out.

"The direction of the complete destruction of Team Rocket by any means necessary," Austin declared.

Brock and Misty felt a chill run down their spines, the stark revelation reshaping their understanding of the boy they knew—the most hardworking and kind-hearted among them, now driven to such extremes.

"Don't tell me..." Brock stepped back, disbelief clouding his features.

Austin took a deep breath, the weight of his next confession pressing down on him. 

"I am Ashura."

Misty and Brock stared at him, their expressions blank, as if their minds had stalled, unable to process the magnitude of what they were hearing.

"Y-You are joking, right?" Misty stuttered, her voice tinged with desperation.

"Misty, I am telling you the truth," Austin said gently, helping her up as she and Brock slowly sat down at the table, each trying to reconcile the image of the friend they knew with the reality before them. 

The café was cloaked in silence, with Misty, Brock, Austin, and Yellow each lost in their own thoughts. The quiet was eventually broken by Brock, who, looking around at the diverse group of Pokémon, remarked, "You caught a lot more Pokémon."

Ninjask zipped around showing off his speed, Primeape flexed its muscles proudly, Kadabra gave the middle finger, Rhydon clapped its massive hands, and Chansey made an exaggerated face that Brock had never seen before. Arbok hissed contentedly, while Dragonair cuddled a Lucario who nonchalantly sipped a chocolate milkshake.

"Is that a Lucario?" Brock asked, intrigued.

"No, I am a leprechaun," Lucario replied, his voice echoing in their minds.

"Did he just use telepathy?" Brock's astonishment was evident.

"Nope," Lucario responded, causing Brock's jaw to drop further.

"I'll explain to you later," Austin interjected.

"Looks like you went on quite the adventures these past few months," Brock observed, his gaze settling on Charmeleon, who smiled back.

"It's like we are back to how we were before," Yellow said, her voice tinged with happiness.

"No, it's not," Misty countered softly.

"Yeah, it's different. We can't change back to the past, but we can start over. Let's start: I am Ash Ketchum, I want to be a Pokémon master, I want to travel the world, and I go by the name Austin," Austin introduced himself anew.

"Austin?" Brock echoed, still a bit perplexed.

"Code name," Yellow clarified with a nod from Brock.

"Well, I am Yellow de Amarillo, I am psychic, and I want to travel the world and see the beauty of Pokémon everywhere and enjoy cool things. But you can call me..." Yellow paused, seeming to forget something.

"Austin, what was my code name again?"

"Yellow," Austin reminded her.

"Yes," Yellow affirmed, pleased.

"Yellow." 

"Are you having a shi-shi..." she began again.

"Seizure," Austin interjected.

"Yes, that," Yellow agreed, which made Misty and Brock snort with laughter.

"My name is Brock Harrison, I want to travel the world and become a top-level breeder," Brock stated proudly.

All eyes then turned to Misty, who sighed deeply. "Before I do this, I want to say something. I haven't forgiven you for the words you said to me because they caused me a lot of torment," she admitted, looking at Austin, who nodded guiltily.

"But I won't hate you also because I know why you did it. I just need time, but I am willing to try this fresh start."

"My name is Misty Waterflower, and I dream to be a Water Type Specialist Master," she declared, setting the stage for new beginnings among old friends.

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[Omake Paragraph]

Contrary to popular belief, Mawile are not especially fond of human flesh. They will eat it when hungry enough, and occasionally a poor trainer near the end of a long road has indeed been eaten by Mawile, but it is rare among wild Mawile; none of these trainers had pokemon a Mawile could digest. (Incidentally, Mawile jaws are perfectly capable of crunching rock and steel-type pokemon; it is fire types which give them trouble.) Humans, after all, are extremely dangerous prey.

The reason Mawile are so often associated with man-eating is not anything inherent to the pokemon, but the fact that many human cultures saw in them a method for gruesome executions. The Romans pitted prisoners of war against Mawile in the arena. Emperors of Hoenn dropped criminals – be they murderers or simply guilty of dissent - into a pit of Mawile with open jaws, surrounded the pit with raised platforms and invited the public to watch. It need not be used as an execution method, for the fear of a painful death can be as useful as the brutality of being ripped apart; a common torture method is to lower people, feet-first, into a Mawile's open jaws.

Yet it is not the Mawile who relish this, for their empathic brains can feel the agony of human minds and the food they get is not even that tasty; indeed, many are fed more than they can safely digest, for humans are a fair amount larger than a Mawile's body. Yet Mawile are nothing if not loyal to their trainers, and the combination of a pokemon's obedience with their trainers' capacity for cruelty allows for the darkest recesses of human savagery to be made real.