A Professor and A Student - Story of Summer-Autumn Chapter Interlude

A Professor and a Student – Story of Summer-Autumn Chapter Interlude
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Course Outline: Deceptively innocent

Honestly, after Ash and his mother had waved goodbye to Principal Oak and the other students,
Kukui hadn't expected to see the boy again. But he did have plans – the moment he had approval to
begin building Alola's Pokemon League, he was absolutely going to invite him back to take part.
There weren't enough battle trainers that lived on Alola to justify it, but he figured that if he sold it
like that Battle Frontier thing… maybe… maybe competitors had to be alumni of multiple leagues…
maybe they had to have achieved a certain rank in each of them…
He was still considering it the next morning, when he wandered onto school grounds only to find Ash
standing in the courtyard and staring up at the main building.
"Where was the Principal's office again…?" he was muttering quietly. The pikachu he'd had out all
day yesterday was perched on top of his hat and looking equally lost, staring in the opposite
direction of wherever Ash turned his head.
"Pika… pika?"
Kukui smiled and started walking again. "Forget something, Ash?"
His shoulders jerked, and then he turned, eyebrows rising curiously. "Professor Kukui. Alola!"
"Alola," he replied with a chuckle. Ash seemed to have latched on to the word much better than
most tourists – he didn't have the slightly patronising edge you usually heard when foreigners tried
to mimic local language. You could almost think he'd been using it his whole life. "I didn't expect to
see you back here again."
"About that…" he said, lifting a hand to the back of his head. "I actually wanted to ask about
enrolling."
"En-" He blinked, then frowned. "I thought you were just here on vacation."
"I am. But Alola is so amazing – a weekend hasn't been nearly long enough!" he said, spreading his
arms while Pikachu enthusiastically gestured and cheered along. "There's so much I still want to see!
The Z-moves, and I want to see a Trial! And the Guardian Pokemon, like Tapu Koko and the others! I
want to meet them all!"
Kukui chuckled, shaking his head. "I can't say I blame you, but you should know that even most
Alolans go their whole lives without seeing any of the Guardian Spirits. I haven't ever met one."
"That's okay! There's still heaps to learn, even if I never see them again!" he said happily, then pulled
back a little, reigning in his enthusiasm to explain. "Y'see, I want to be a Pokemon Master, and that
means I need to learn everything I can about pokemon from all over the world! And that's why I
want to enrol in this school! Just for a year or so."
He had to smile. As a researcher, he always approved of people wanting to learn more about
pokemon, and as someone who studied moves, he especially approved of battle trainers looking to
expand their horizons. But still. "And what does your mother think of all this?"
"I haven't told her yet," he admitted, while Pikachu pulled back in an amazing mimic of Ash's
suddenly contrite expression. "I wanted to check with Principal Oak to see whether I could enrol
here first. It's not like the other regions I've been to, where there's a league to compete in. Here, if I
can't study here, I'd really just be taking an even longer vacation. It's better to have a goal, you
know?"
Again, Kukui found himself approving of the argument, even if he had to squash the urge to roll his
eyes in exasperation. It had been so long since he'd been to the Eastern regions – he'd forgotten
how soon kids considered themselves independent there. Of course Ash, who here on Alola
would've still been adhering to curfews and asking permission to visit a friend's house after school,
considered his mother a secondary concern to arranging his own plans.
Not to mention – "And where were you planning to stay while you were studying? Pokemon Centres
don't take long term guests, and somehow I doubt you brought enough gear to camp out for a year."
"We'll work something out," Ash said cheerfully, and Pikachu pumped its fists in agreement.
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"Pika pika!"
Kukui just stared at him for a few moments. Somehow, he actually believed him. He had a sudden
mental image of the kid slouching back against a tree for the night, as comfortable as anyone else in
a bed.
On the other hand, Kukui had a loft with a futon going to waste.
He remembered the Quick Attack he'd seen yesterday, and that Thunderbolt that had almost
effortlessly fried three salandit. He remembered Ash's confident smile, and how he hadn't even
hesitated before jumping in to help a complete stranger, just because the fight wasn't fair.
He wondered if Ash really had seen Tapu Koko.
He wanted to get to know the kid.
Kukui took one more step forward, smiling as he reached a decision.
Honestly, Kukui hadn't really known what to expect when he agreed to take Ash into his home. It
wasn't the first time he'd boarded a student, but normally, the kids he took in weren't so…
enthusiastic.
"This is so cool!" he cried, spinning around with his arms spread wide. "I can't believe you have a
training room in your lab!"
"Well, I was a pretty serious trainer before I became a professor. Even took on the Kanto League
when I was just a little older than you," he said, and was gratified to see Ash's eyes go wide with
awe.
"You competed in the Kanto League? How many badges did you get?"
"All eight; all won through battle," he said proudly. "I actually won the whole thing. Got through
three of the Elite Four, too. But that Lance sure put me in my place."
"Yeah, he's super strong," Ash agreed, before pumping both fists. "But I can't believe this! You're a
League winner? And to get to Lance you must've even beat Agatha! That's so cool!"
He grinned. He didn't often get to brag these days – everyone on the islands knew he'd won, and it
had been so long ago that no one was particularly impressed by it anymore. It was nice to have
someone overlook the time difference to see the accomplishment. "Well, that's all in the past now.
These days I mostly just study moves for my research."
"For your research? You mean you're not just a teacher, you really study like Professor Oak and the
others too? Whoa, Professor Kukui, is there anything you can't do?"
He laughed. "You don't have to flatter me, I already agreed to let you stay here," he said, even as he
revelled in the praise. He was definitely telling Burnet about this. "But yeah. I study moves and
move-sets. Right now, I'm looking into why pokemon can only seem to know four moves at any one
time."
"Oh yeah, I guess that is kind of strange," he said, and then folded his hands behind his back, rocking
back and forth on his heels. "But some pokemon have abilities that seem a lot like moves, and they
don't seem to count. And if you train them right, they can kind of do moves that seem like new ones,
but they don't count either."
He tilted his head, intrigued. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you know…" He rolled his eyes as he tried to find a good example. "A water-type can cloak
their whole body in water, right? And the water takes whatever attacks get thrown at them. Kind of
like a Protect, only it doesn't count, because all they're really doing is using their surroundings."
Kukui blinked, his hand blindly reaching for a notepad behind him. "You've seen this?"
"Sure, loads of times!" he said brightly. "It's actually how I started teaching my pokemon to use
Counter-Shield."
"Counter-Shield?" he repeated. He'd heard of Counter, and Shield, but Counter-Shield?
"Yeah. It's a move I made up. You wrap yourself up in attack power, so anything that tries to hit you
just gets hurt instead," he explained, flicking his wrist to wave it off like it wasn't important. Kukui
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scribbled the name down as a reminder to himself to ask about it later as Ash continued. "But that is
a move. I'm talking about a cloak. You see it a lot with water-types, but I think flying-types do it way
more often, using air currents and stuff. But since you can't see air, it just looks like they're dodging."
"That…" Kukui blinked again. "That's very true…"
"And sometimes, it's not even like that. It's like when a fire-type uses flames, but it's not ember or
flamethrower, it's just fire that they can make. And like how ghost-types can totally ignore physical
attacks, and for dark-types, it's like psychic abilities just don't exist at all!"
He… had never really thought of it like that. "But for ghost- and dark-types, those things are just part
of what makes them their type."
"Just like water makes a water-type," Ash pointed out. "And how a fighting-type is all about hitting
stuff as hard as you can. A pokemon is more than their type, but they're all connected to it, right?
Even if all you train a butterfree in is psychic or physical attacks, that doesn't mean it can never make
stun spores again. Right?"
"It just… doesn't use them in battle," he said slowly, and quickly wrote down the comparison. It was
things like that that had first intrigued him about studying moves, but he hadn't ever applied it on
such a wide scale. But Ash was absolutely right – you could teach an incineroar nothing but fighting
and dark-type moves, making it forget all the fire it had ever known, but that fire was still there. So,
in theory, it could still be used. Maybe not as a move, per se, but…
"Oh, wow, is this a moon ball? Hey, you've got all sorts of pokeballs in here! Are they registered to
anyone? Are there pokemon in here?"
He glanced up from his notepad, disoriented. "What?"
Ash was pawing through one of his boxes, somehow on the other side of the room to where he'd
been without Kukui even having noticed him moving.
"Uh, no, they're just spares. I give them out sometimes to my graduating students. What was that
you said about –"
"Hey, a lure ball! I used one of these for my totodile," he said, holding it up with a grin. "It's the only
special one I've got. I always just buy the ordinary ones."
"You have a totodile?" he asked blankly. He hadn't seen Ash carrying any pokeballs – not even one
for Pikachu. He shook his head, trying not to get distracted. "Is that who used the water cloak?"
"Nah! Totodile's really good at dodging," he said, and then seemed to make eye-contact with the
lovediscs in the tank, and hurried over to press his hands against it. "Hey Lovedisc! Wow, that's so
cool! Look at those scales! You're so beautiful!"
Kukui sighed, rubbing the heel of his hand against his temple. He was getting the distinct impression
life with Ash was going to be a little exhausting.
"You've been in how many leagues?"
Ash made a face and rocked back to think. Eventually, he released his ankles and started counting on
his fingers. "You could count the Orange Islands, and the Battle Frontier, but um… well, Kanto, Johto,
Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, Kalos… I guess six. I didn't do very well, though," he added with an
embarrassed laugh, before he shrugged with a broad grin. "I made it to the finals last time, though!
Alain was the better battler, but we did pretty good!"
Kukui stared at him, then touched his hand to his chin, wondering if he could somehow take
advantage of Ash's experience. Then he realised how creepy that sounded, even in his own head,
and laughed a little to move on. "So that means you must have a full team at home. Pikachu, and
you mentioned Totodile last night. Who are the other four?"
"Other four?" he repeated.
"The rest of your team," he prompted, but Ash only continued looking at him blankly. He scratched
the side of his head, not really understanding how Ash was having trouble with this. "You need six
registered pokemon to compete in a conference."
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"Yeah…?"
"So if Pikachu is one, and Totodile is another…?"
"Oh. Well, it depends on the battle," he said, still blinking wide eyes like Kukui was the one not
making sense. "I switched my team around a lot for the conference Totodile helped out in."
When he didn't expand on that, Kukui chuckled a little helplessly. He was quickly learning Ash wasn't
really one to pick up on subtle cues or volunteer information you didn't directly ask for. "So you
must have quite a few pokemon then."
"Uh huh! Most of them stay at Professor Oak's lab. They like it there, because they get to hang out
with a whole lot of different pokemon," he explained. "But Pikachu always comes with me to new
regions. He's my partner!"
Obviously having heard its name, Pikachu looked up from where it was playing with Rockruff just
long enough to smile and chirrup some kind of acknowledgement. Ash grinned at it before coming
back to Kukui.
"How about you, professor? Do you have any other pokemon?"
"Of course," he said with a nod. "But they're a little big to keep around the house."
"Big pokemon, huh? That's so cool, I can't wait to meet them!" he said, bouncing a little. "It's the
best thing about coming to a new place – getting to meet all kinds of pokemon you've never seen
before."
He tilted his head, amused by the enthusiasm. "Do you have a specific type you favour?"
"Favour? You mean do I have a favourite type of pokemon?" he asked. "No way! All pokemon are
amazing!"
"Of course," he said with a laugh. He should have expected that.
"Professor Oak," Kukui said, with all the respect and honour due a man globally known as The
Pokemon Professor, inventor of a device used by every pokemon trainer under the age of thirty and
leading expert on Pokemon-Human relations. And his very eccentric boss's cousin. "Thank you for
taking my call."
"Of course," he said, peeling what looked suspiciously like stringshot webbing off the side of his face.
"Thank you for agreeing to board Ash. He's a close friend of the family, you know – my grandson's
best friend and one of my more…"
Kukui blinked as he waited for Oak to finish his sentence. Apparently he was struggling to find a
suitable word. After almost a minute had passed, Kukui decided to lend him a hand. "Experienced?
Devoted?" His grin widened. "Enthusiastic?"
"…honestly, I'd call him a fascinating case study, but I don't think it does him justice," he admitted,
then smiled brightly. "I hope he isn't causing you too much trouble."
"Oh, not at all," he said. It had only been two days, but aside from his apparent rivalry with a living
god, he doubted Ash would be a problem. He ate a lot of food, faster than seemed humanly
possible, but he was otherwise surprisingly self-sufficient. Still adapting to having to be specific
places at specific times, but so far he had been nothing like any of Kukui's other boarders. He hadn't
needed to remind Ash to do anything or find ways to entertain him, and Ash had been the one to
raise the question of how chores should be done – on the very first night, no less. Apparently he'd
learned the value of sorting that sort of thing out early. He was a very proficient dish-washer. Kukui
smiled at Oak. "I wasn't aware of just how much experience he has a trainer, however. He tells me
he has quite a few pokemon over there – I was hoping you could provide me with his pokedex
records. I would hate to try and teach him something he already knows."
"You would never know if you did," Oak advised. "In fact, while I don't mind compiling it, I doubt the
list would be beneficial. Ash has seen many pokemon—far more than you or I, I suspect—but he
would be the first to tell you he doesn't know everything about them."
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His smile widened a little. Samson had told him Oak spoke of Ash with something suspiciously close
to paternal pride, but a renowned professor letting affection blind him to basic realities—any young
trainer having seen more pokemon than The Pokemon Professor, hah—was rather sweet. "Still. If
you wouldn't mind sending it through."
Oak shrugged and made a note for himself. "I'll send you the list of his team, as well. Which reminds
me, as fair warning. Don't be altogether surprised if, should he put together another team there in
Alola, it seems more like the pokemon choose him. It's something of a habit."
"Oh? I would have thought a battle trainer like Ash would select his pokemon with a strategy. I've no
doubt he would bond with them quickly, but most battle trainers rely rather heavily on –"
Soft laughter cut him off. "If I were you, I would abandon that thought while you can. While Ash has
relied on the pokeball connection before—bug- and flying-types, usually—it's not his standard, by
any means," he said. "The battle, if it happens, is usually more of a formality."
"Interesting," he said. "And, I suppose, appropriate for one of your premier trainers. A true example
of the best in pokemon-human relations."
"Hah!" Oak didn't look nearly as amused as Kukui had expected. "As I said, a fascinating case study.
And one that should be experienced first-hand."
He blinked, not really sure how to take that.
"Forgive the abruptness, but I really should get back to my research. Is there anything else I can do
for you, Professor Kukui?"
"Oh, no, thank you very much," he said. "Good luck."
"Thank you. You can expect those lists by the end of the day. Good luck to you as well," he said, and
then smirked. "You'll need it."
Kukui raised an eyebrow, but wasn't given time for anything else before the call went black.
Then he got the lists.
Kukui stared at the first one for a long time, noting the geographic date stamps registered to each
one, claiming they had been visual matches, rather than Ash just looking them up for research. Kukui
didn't recognise a third of the pokemon listed – he'd never been to Unova and his time in Kalos had
been very brief, while his visits to Sinnoh had mostly revolved around Burnet, not pokemon.
He sent a quick note back, checking to make sure this wasn't a compiled list from trainers that had
set out on their journey at the same time. Oak's assistant sent back a confirmation, with apologies
that it wasn't complete – Ash had apparently gotten progressively lazier about scanning pokemon in
Kalos, and had apparently always been prone to skipping it 'in more unusual circumstances'. Kukui
wasn't quite sure what to make of that.
The other list was much shorter. For a battle trainer, Ash apparently didn't catch many pokemon.
He'd come close to a more standard catch-rate in Unova, but then dropped significantly in Kalos.
Checking the fifth registration for Kalos a second time, Kukui sent another email, and the assistant
quickly replied that yes, it was correct, but no, they couldn't send any further data. Goodra
apparently hadn't made it back to Kanto.
It was a habit, the assistant apologised. But if Kukui was interested, the Kalos league had been filmed
and PokeVision would probably have videos of a few of Goodra's battles.
He went upstairs and spent a few seconds just staring at the boy on his couch, who was enamoured
of his new rowlet's soft feathers and gushing about how strong its kicks were.
Then he quietly went back down to his office, and considered what kind of qualities a Guardian Deity
would respect in a human.
Assessment Criteria:Different ways learn
While the others hurried back to the school, intent on the food they'd left behind, Kiawe hung back
to walk alongside Kukui. They went in silence for a few minutes, both of them watching Ash. He was
laughing and chatting with the others, looking forward to the future.
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"That Gigavolt Havoc," Kiawe said quietly. "Did you notice? It wasn't just around Tapu Koko; it ripped
up the ground almost straight from where Pikachu stood."
"I noticed," Kukui replied.
"I earned my Z-Crystal and I've seen plenty of battles," he said. "But I have never seen a Z-move
cause so much destruction."
"No, it surprised me too."
"Do you think it was because he didn't earn the crystal?" he asked. "Was it unstable?"
Kukui glanced at him sideways. "I suspect you were right about the crystal cracking because it wasn't
earned, but that attack didn't look unstable to me."
"And he'd never even seen an Electrium-Z used before," he said, his voice going harsh with urgency.
"Professor…!"
"Tapu Koko seems to trust him," he pointed out. "I'm not saying you have to, but don't you think it
would have done something if it sensed any ill intentions from Ash or his pikachu?"
"It's not that I think he'd try to hurt anyone," he said. "But Professor, think about it. That much
power… in someone who doesn't understand…"
"You're absolutely right," he said. It was why they had the Trials, after all. "So it will be our job to
ensure he learns."
Kiawe hesitated, then nodded once.
Originally, when he found the Rotom infesting his computer, Kukui was a little annoyed. Rotom
weren't native to Alola, so it was yet another example of someone bringing in a foreign species
without realising how it could disrupt the local wildlife.
Not to mention that ghost-types were frustrating at the best of times. And difficult to study, so it
wasn't even like Rockruff, who could at least make itself useful while running rampant through the
house.
Not that it had made itself all that useful. Rockruff wasn't particularly interested in being studied, or
doing anything beyond hanging around long enough to get fed before disappearing again.
Until Ash showed up, anyway.
Kukui hummed, leaning back from his sparking computer wires as that thought processed through
his head.
In the last two days, Rockruff had spent more time in the house than it had in the entire six months
Kukui had been trying to study it. There didn't seem to be any reason behind the change, beyond the
fact that it apparently wanted to be around Ash and Pikachu. And all it had taken was Ash opening
his hands and telling Rockruff to 'come'.
Such a strange kid, that Ash…
He'd met the Guardian Deity multiple times. And, having only seen a single unrelated Z-move one
time, pulled off the most powerful Gigavolt Havoc Kukui had ever witnessed. He liked battling, which
Kukui studied, and pokemon, which Kukui proudly called himself a professor of, and the Professor
Oak had just now called him a 'fascinating case study'.
The words rolled around his head, rebounding off bad ideas.
Rotoms didn't make very good study subjects. But as Professor Oak had published in an article only
recently, if you used them in the right way, they could make excellent study tools…
And one of his own colleagues at the lab had recently built that custom-pokedex…
"Kukui used Nasty Plot," he muttered, reaching into his back pocket for his phone.
"Rotom," Kukui called as Ash headed into the bathroom, "Could I speak to you for a moment?"
"Of course!" it chirped, and flew over to hover in front of him.
RotomDex was much less mischievous than most rotoms tended to be. Kukui wasn't yet sure
whether that was because it was protective of its possessed casing, or if it was just this one's specific
personality. Either way, aside from its mildly obnoxious personality, it was mostly just interested in
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fulfilling its casing's function. It wanted to collect information. Which was fascinating in its own way
– Kukui's colleague would be thrilled when he got the data.
Not that it mattered to Kukui. He had other areas of interest. "So now that you've had a full two days
as the RotomDex, how are you finding it?"
Rotom beeped and shook in the air. "Ash is very strange. He is not like what a pokemon trainer is
supposed to be!"
Kukui raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He'd planned to work them up to talking about Ash, but here
Rotom had just jumped straight into it. "Oh?"
"Wild pokemon are caught through battle!" it insisted. "A pokemon trainer uses their existing
pokemon to weaken it, and then throws a pokeball to catch it. If compatible, the pokeball creates a
soothing environment designed to encourage friendship and trust in the wild creature, which—when
combined with proper training—creates a strong bond between human and pokemon."
Kukui smiled patiently. "Yes…?"
"Ash did not use his existing pokemon to weaken the wild pokemon before catching it!" it wailed,
electrical beeps and static colouring every word. "The wild creature was not soothed by the
pokeball's environment! Rowlet practically caught itself!"
"Oh, well, now that might affect his grade," he said playfully. "The assignment was to catch a
pokemon, not have one catch him."
"Look! Look!" it cried, and lit up with an image of Ash kneeling down, turned away from the camera.
As it began rolling, he stood up and turned forward, wearing an odd, unreadable smile.
"Okay guys, let's go home."
"Go home?" Rotom's voice was heavily distorted in the video, but just understandable. "I thought
you were going to catch Rowlet."
"It's okay."
Kukui frowned, folding his arms and leaning forward in interest. He knew, of course, that Rowlet
wound up caught, but that didn't match what he was seeing here.
When Oak had warned him that it often seemed like Ash's pokemon chose him, he hadn't been
entirely sure what the man meant. It could have been like Rockruff, who seemed to have adopted
Ash whether the kid liked it or not, or (and this was what he'd actually suspected) Ash could have
tricked his pokemon into it.
It wasn't a nice strategy by any means, but some trainers that knew how the pokeball connection
worked were inclined to use it to their advantage. They would trick pokemon into lowering their
guards, convincing the poor creatures that they didn't want to catch anyone. That they were just
training their existing pokemon through random battles in the wild. Then, when the pokemon felt
safe from capture, they'd throw the ball and let the machine do the rest of the work.
But he wasn't seeing any hint of that in the video he was watching. As Ash explained, he honestly
seemed to think Rowlet would be happier in the wild. And that was… apparently enough for him.
Then the video flickered, obviously moving ahead in time to a shot of Rowlet flying and hooting
excitedly, Rotom's distorted voice asking, "What's Rowlet doing?"
"What d'you think?" Ash's voice shot back, sounding excited. "You want me to catch you, right?"
There was no possible way Rowlet's response could be construed as anything but an emphatic 'yes'.
"Alright, then here we go, Rowlet!" Ash said, and the camera focussed down onto Ash almost lazily
tossing up a pokeball. "Go: pokeball!"
As the pokeball came down, Rowlet actually bounced up a little to whack itself against the button.
And then, against all logic considering how strong the bird had looked, the pokeball barely shook
before accepting its new charge.
"Huh," Kukui said, as the video ended and Rotom's 'face' returned to the screen.
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"That is not how pokemon are supposed to be caught!" it cried, and then flew back a foot before
coming forward again. "I have updated my data, but according to all scientific evidence, this should
not be the case. Further study will be required!"
"It will indeed," Kukui agreed quietly, before he remembered why he'd actually wanted to talk to
Rotom and blinked. "So you don't mind continuing to help Ash; acting as his pokedex?"
It buzzed a little, screen flickering across data and graphs before settling on its moving mouth image.
It was currently a small frown. "He is very interesting. I would like to study him further," it said, and
then flickered into a smug emoticon. "Also, Ash is not very well versed on pokemon, and I can
provide a great deal of information! I will be able to teach him how a pokemon is supposed to be
caught and trained! I will be an extremely useful pokedex! The RotomDex!"
Kukui chuckled and didn't argue.
Most people that had never been a part of higher education thought that Pokemon Schools were
about teaching people how to be breeders or day care operators. Others thought that it was more
like a full-time summer course – you spent mornings learning pokemon types and then your
afternoons playing. Those people annoyed Kukui a little bit.
The truth was, most lessons at the School were actually theoretical, and it quickly became obvious
that Ash was really going to struggle with that.
He understood the concepts. He knew how to battle and raise pokemon, and he followed most of
the explanations he was given.
But if you asked him to define type advantages, the most complex explanation he could give you was
'water types are strong against fire types'. He was absolutely floored by the fact there was an actual
mathematical formula to predict how effective one type was against another, let alone the idea of
more complex formulae that added in levels and ability modifiers.
They'd spent most of the day working through calculations. Overall, the class had done acceptably
well – Sophocles and Lillie were of course miles ahead of everyone, while Ash and Kiawe struggled
with every step. Even Mallow had been exhausted by the end of the lesson, but the two battlers
looked like absolute wrecks, and Kiawe had been very close to lashing out at someone. Kukui had
decided to end things a little early and instead remind everyone of tomorrow's field work.
That had thankfully lightened everyone's mood – extra-curricular lessons usually did. But he was
surprised by how effective it was – Ash cheered up almost immediately, and was in a positively
ecstatic mood by the time he got home, testing the weight of his borrowed fishing rod and chatting
with Pikachu about all the water types they could meet.
Having just started preparing dinner, Kukui watched from the kitchen as Ash carefully carried the rod
up the ladder to his loft.
"Well, now that surprises me, Ash," he said as the kid disappeared from sight. "From what Professor
Oak told me of your team, I didn't really pick you as someone who enjoys spending a lot of time on
the water. Totodile, Squirtle, Buizel… they're all land-based water pokemon, aren't they?"
"Yeah. I've never tried to train a fish-pokemon before," he called back. "But one of my best friends
wants to become a water-pokemon master, and she taught me how to fish. I even have this special
lure she gave me. Works like a charm! Didn't think to bring it to Alola though."
"I bet there's a lot of things you would've brought if you'd come here planning to stay," he pointed
out, before his attention was redirected by the poke-flap swinging open. As he'd half-expected, it
was Rockruff, who got less than a metre inside before stopping to look around, ears and tail lowering
in obvious disappointment. Kukui scoffed. "What, am I not good enough for you anymore?"
"What?" Ash, Pikachu, and Rotom all peeked over the landing, and Rockruff immediately perked up
again with an excited bark. Pikachu leapt up onto the railing to wave excitedly, while Ash just
grinned and leaned a little further over. "Hey Rockruff! When did you get here?"
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As Rockruff barked happily back, Kukui shook his head with a mock-glare. "You know, a man
shouldn't be made to feel so unwanted in his own home. I fed you this morning, remember!"
Rockruff ignored him, and Ash chuckled before ducking out of sight again. "Man, I can't wait for
tomorrow! I really hope I meet some cool pokemon. Hey, RotomDex, are there any Alolan variants
for water-types?"
"Don't answer that, Rotom!" ordered Kukui. "We have a test on regional variants next week and
you're not allowed to help him!"
"Aw, come on, Professor Kukui!" Ash whined playfully. "I need all the help I can get!"
"He really does," Rotom said, still hovering over the railing. When Kukui gave it a dry look, it flew
down to hang in the air in front of him, effectively stopping him from chopping vegetables and
forcing him to pay attention to it. "It's true! While completing the set problems today, Ash's success
rate was less than forty-seven percent, and he did not complete them all."
Kukui gently pushed it out of the way with a stern look. "I appreciate that you want to help, but
those aren't the kinds of statistics Ash needs in his first week at school, Rotom."
"It's not wrong though," Ash pointed out.
Kukui looked up to find Ash climbing back down the ladder, not even pausing for balance as Pikachu
leapt from the railing to his head. He hit the ground and turned toward the kitchen, still
unconcerned as Pikachu scampered down his back in order to tackle Rockruff, and the two pokemon
began play-fighting as he stepped up to the counter. "I didn't do so great in class today."
"That is an understatement," Rotom reported cheerfully, and Kukui slanted yet another look at it
before going back to Ash.
"It's your first week," he said again. "And there are a lot of very good trainers that never even try to
learn this stuff. No one was expecting you to master type mathematics in one class."
Ash shrugged. He didn't seem concerned so much as resigned. "I've never been that good at classes.
Honestly? I barely graduated from normal school."
"Oh?" he prompted. "And yet you enrolled here."
"Yeah. I mean… I've seen plenty of Pokemon Schools before," he said. "And I've met loads of people
that do that math stuff all the time. Even some trainers that refused to battle me at first because
they did the calculations and decided they'd win too easily."
Kukui raised an eyebrow. "I'm sensing that isn't usually how the story ended."
"Nope! I'd make 'em battle me anyway!" he said cheerfully, then rubbed the back of his neck with an
awkward laugh. "Is it mean of me to say I really enjoyed beating them?"
"Probably better to say you found it 'satisfying'," Kukui advised with a wink. "I'm glad to hear it
though. It's important to remember that while type mathematics are all well and good, there's a lot
more that goes into training a pokemon than what you can measure with numbers."
"And that's why I like the Alolan Pokemon School so much."
It seemed like a bit of a non-sequitor, so Kukui put down his knife and leaned over the counter to
focus. "I'm afraid I'm not following you there, Ash."
"It's different here," he said with a shrug. "Every other Pokemon School I've gone to, all anyone
seems to care about is the science. They talk about how important it is to care for your pokemon,
but then they don't use real pokemon in their lessons. Everything is done in classrooms, all shut up
and closed off, and they use pictures and diagrams. Sometimes they have pokemon on campus, but
they're always locked away and the students barely see them. No one ever has their own pokemon
out of their pokeballs – if they even have pokemon!" he added, and then grimaced, glancing over his
shoulder to where Pikachu and Rockruff were playing peek-a-boo around the table. "Any time I went
to places like that, even if it was just a Summer Camp or something, they always asked why I didn't
put Pikachu in its pokeball. They were supposed to be learning about how to work with pokemon,
but they all thought it was weird to actually live and work with a real live pokemon."
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Kukui nodded. It was something most Alolans noticed when they went to other regions: the divide
between human and pokemon that was… if not absent, at least certainly less prominent here, where
pokemon were both gods and family members. He was surprised Ash, who came from the region
that was probably most infamous for the clear divides it put between human and pokemon, had
noticed it.
"But here," Ash continued, glancing up at Rotom, "you didn't just let me keep Pikachu around, you
gave me a pokedex that carries a real pokemon inside it! Just to help me learn about the region!
Almost everyone at school has a pokemon that they keep with them. And every lesson uses real
pokemon, even if it's just to look at! And – and even with what we learned today, you don't get mad
when I say stuff like 'type isn't everything'."
"Well, it isn't," he said blankly. "Anyone who's fought in a Pokemon League can tell you type
advantage doesn't mean anything against a really great team."
"That is not logical," Rotom interrupted, lifting a wing in point. "Type advantage is one of the basics
of pokemon battling. A good team is one that balances types to ensure that every possible weakness
is covered by a strength! Therefore, type advantage means everything in a great team!"
Ash smiled wryly, and met Kukui's sideways glance with one of his own. "That's kinda more like what
I always expected from a school. But here… learning from you and Principal Oak…" He trailed off for
a second, then looked up again with a warm smile. "I didn't get that calculation stuff today. I might
never get it. But you didn't make me feel like that makes me a bad trainer. Or just dumb in general.
And Kiawe is so smart, and so strong, but he didn't get it either. And when he got mad, and said
none of it matters, because he believes in the strength of fire and fire-types, with the soul of Akala…
you actually said that was fair enough."
Because it was, in Kukui's opinion. He'd been in enough battles, seen enough strange things,
experienced enough Z-moves, to know that there was more to battling than numbers. If you
believed in yourself and your pokemon, you could move mountains.
But he'd also studied enough and travelled far enough to know that it wasn't how most of the world
thought. Belief and trust were not measurable, which to a lot of people meant it was
inconsequential.
"For the first time," Ash continued, one hand rising to rub the back of his neck, "for the first time,
even though I don't always get what you're talking about, I don't feel like that means I'm doing it all
wrong. And that makes me think I actually can learn, for once. And so, even though I know it's gonna
be hard, and I'm probably not gonna pass the year… I feel like I actually am gonna learn stuff. I'm
gonna learn stuff that's gonna make me a better trainer. So I'm gonna do my best. Even if it's not
good enough, I'm gonna do it anyway, because it's worth doing. Right?"
Again, Kukui found himself thinking of his trips to other regions. He'd originally left Alola angry and
defiant, with a goal to fight 'real battles' and prove himself better than the Trials he hadn't been able
to finish. So when he got to Kanto, with its serious, hard-line trainers and strict rules on how battles
should be fought… he'd felt like it was just what he'd wanted. It wasn't until he met the Elite Four,
and Lance showed him just how pig-headed he was being, that he realised Kanto was actually a very
harsh place.
In Kanto, people lived and worked with pokemon, but they weren't normally considered family. It
was strange to even refer to pokemon as friends. They were partners, or more commonly just
pokemon you trained. They had jobs to do, and trainers made them more effective through hard
work and dedication. For pokemon trainers, Kanto was a serious, busy place, with clearly defined
boundaries and limits.
He wondered how Ash had found that kind of environment. It didn't seem to make any sense – Ash
was so excited and enthusiastic about everything. He saw all pokemon as potential friends, and they
all seemed to love him just as much as he did them. He would regularly just stop and take a moment
Page 11
to appreciate the world around him. He took joy in every moment, even when it was hard, and was
always looking for new ways to do things.
Which had eventually brought him here, to learn in a way he had never done before.
Kukui wasn't sure whether to be impressed or just exasperated. So he picked up his knife and went
back to the vegetables.
"You know what?" he asked. "I think you're right. And if you think you can learn, I am more than
willing to try and teach you."
"Neither of you are making any sense," Rotom noted, and they both looked at it again before
exchanging glances.
In the end, Kukui just had to laugh.
Grading Scale: Foreshadowing
After the exciting field trip, including his numerous dips in the ocean, Kukui had expected Ash to be
sleeping by the time he got back from the lab that night. But instead, he found the boy downstairs,
standing in front of the boxing bag and staring at his fists like he'd never realised he had them
before. Kukui smiled as he finished walking down the stairs. "Thinking about getting into martial arts,
Ash?"
"Huh?" He blinked up at him, then laughed awkwardly and lowered his fists. "No. It's not really my
style anymore."
"Anymore?" he prompted as he sat down on the bottom step, and Ash rubbed the back of his neck.
"I used to get into fights a lot when I was a kid. I was a bit of a cry-baby, and everyone knew it.
Throwing punches seemed like a good way to prove I wasn't," he said, and Kukui had to grin. It was
such a typical little boy response – he was a little surprised to hear Ash didn't still think that was a
good way to solve his problems, and even more so by how embarrassed he seemed to admit it. "I'm
trying not to do it so much anymore. But sometimes I let my temper get away from me, you know?"
"It's very good that you can at least recognise it as a failing," he pointed out, and Ash chuckled again,
a soft blush creeping over his cheeks. Kukui settled his chin in his palm, ever-more intrigued by the
young man he'd invited into his home. "It wasn't until I was almost twenty before I realised I needed
to work on my temper. I channelled it into my research – understanding the ways pokemon are
limited in their battles taught me a lot about self-control."
"That's really cool," Ash said warmly, but his smile faded as he looked back at the bag. "Sometimes I
dunno, though. Anger's a hard one to work out."
"You think so?"
"Yeah. It's like Team Rocket," he said. "I hate them. I hate them so much. They follow me
everywhere. They try and steal Pikachu all the time. I can't stand them!" He clenched his fists again,
looking for all the world like a boy on the urge of a very violent explosion, before he let it all out with
a breath. His shoulders slumped, and he just seemed tired. "But at the same time, all I really want is
for them to be happy. To just… quit Team Rocket and go on a real pokemon journey. Find out who
they're supposed to be and go for it. I'd even help them if I could. And that's just so crazy, I mean…
who thinks like that? After everything Team Rocket's done – everything they've done to me, and
Pikachu, and the whole world! They make me so mad! I should hate them! I do hate them! But…"
But you're a good person, Kukui thought quietly. He'd seen hints of it already – pokemon could
sense these things, and even if both Rockruff and the damn Guardian Deity hadn't provided visible
and tangible proof of their affection for him, it only took a few minutes of speaking with Ash to see
it. He cared so much about everyone and everything around him. He only wanted the best for
everyone.
"Ah!" Ash suddenly spun back to face him, one fist rising like he could block himself. "Sorry, I
shouldn't have said all of that."
He furrowed his brow. "Why not?"
Page 12
"Well, I mean, it's kinda stupid," he said awkwardly. "You don't need to hear about that kind of
stuff."
"I'm interested," he said, and then grinned at Ash's embarrassed glance. "But I guess you wouldn't
want to Confide in a boring grown up."
"What are you talking about?" he cried. "You're not boring at all! The stuff you research is so totally
awesome, and everything you teach at the school is so interesting. I just… you're already doing so
much for me, teaching and letting me stay here… You shouldn't have to hear about my problems."
His grin faded just a touch. "I invited you to share my home, Ash. You should never have to hide
what you think or feel when you're at home," he said, and then smiled. "And as for what you said
before, I don't think it's stupid at all. I think you're very kind, to be able to think like that about
people like Team Rocket. And I can only imagine how frustrating it must be."
Ash just looked away again, still rubbing the back of his neck. Kukui considered him for a few
moments, then asked, "Why do they follow you around? Today they were after the Ride Pokemon,
but from what you said the other day…"
"It's mostly for Pikachu," he said. "It's really strong – it has way more power than your normal
pikachu. They want that power for their boss. But other times, it's just a coincidence. I don't think
they came to Alola for us, but since they're here, they'll definitely try for it."
"How long have you been dealing with them?"
He shrugged. "I met them on the first day of my pokemon journey."
Kukui lifted his head from his palm, shocked. That had apparently been a very long time ago. If
they'd really been following him for that long, chasing him down, stealing his pokemon… and Ash
still had the compassion to want good things for them… He smiled and shook his head.
"So it's been a while since you threw a good punch, I take it?" he asked as he stood up again. Ash
blinked at him, and he gestured to the bag. "Let's see your form. There are worse ways to deal with
anger than a Power-up Punch aimed at a good Substitute!"
He hesitated, then quirked a smile and nodded. Then he drew his fist back and punched.
It wasn't the worst Kukui had ever seen. He didn't make beginner's mistakes – his thumb was on the
outside of his fist, and he kept his wrist at the right angle. But he hadn't put all his strength into it,
and it was slow enough that you would have had to have been looking in the complete other
direction not to be able to dodge.
It was also interesting that he had aimed at his own head-height. It was fairly typical for a backyard
brawler – mostly looking to wound and defend pride. But he'd expected Ash to aim for safer places,
like the gut.
"You can hurt people's lungs that way," Ash said, and Kukui did a double-take until he realised he
must have spoken aloud. "The cheek just hurts a lot, and it can knock people off balance."
"True. But the eye or temple are more dangerous places to accidentally hit if you miss," he said, and
then took up a stance himself. "Especially if you put more of yourself into your strikes. All of your
weight, all of your speed. Like this." He lashed out at his own head-height, and the bag jerked,
dancing on the chain. "Now you."
Ash hesitated, then gave it another shot. It was better and faster, making the bag swing, but Kukui
could see him still holding back. He barely moved his torso with the punch.
"Come on, Ash. You're never going to work out that anger if you keep it all bottled up! Hit hard! The
bag won't complain!"
He chuckled a little, then licked his lips, looking from Kukui to the bag and back again. He copied
Kukui's stance, then lifted his left hand in a vague approximation of a Kantonese guard, and—for the
first time yet—really swung.
The chain snapped with a loud crack, and the bag crashed into the wall behind. Ash jerked back,
looking horrified, and Kukui raised his eyebrows.
Page 13
"Huh," he said, blinking at the swinging chain. It must have been pretty badly worn down to snap like
that from a kid's punch. "Guess I should've checked it was fit to be used before we did that."
Kukui stared around the house with mild amusement.
The walls and floor of the laundry room were strangely damp and there was an overpowering smell
of detergent everywhere, though he'd noticed the laundry itself was clean and hung up outside.
Including all of his lab coats.
The kitchen was also suspiciously clean – cleaner than it had been that morning, which was
particularly strange given that the rubbish bin was overflowing with some strange and burned
concoction that Kukui suspected wasn't edible in the slightest. There were two bowls soaking in the
sink, obviously having held the mysterious creation.
A peek upstairs showed the loft in the same overly neat order he'd come to associate with Ash.
Maybe it was all his time on the road, but when Ash wasn't home, he always packed everything
away as if he wasn't coming back. The only anomaly was the sheet Kukui had originally draped over
the bookcase (to keep off dust, he'd insisted to Burnet, who snorted and pointedly didn't call him
out on his messy housekeeping) was now folded up in a corner of the loft, and the books he'd had on
it were perched a little more precariously. Ash wasn't quite tall enough to reach the top of the
bookshelf, even with the chair.
After going up to place the books more securely on the shelf, he went back to the kitchen and picked
up the scrawled memo. Unfortunately Ash's writing wasn't nearly as neat as he'd left the house, but
Kukui could make it out. The kid had gone grocery shopping.
The question of why was answered when he peeked into the fridge.
Granted, it hadn't exactly been overflowing to begin with – he'd been planning for that to be one of
the stops they made at the mall today. But now it was completely empty. Not even the sausages that
had been buried in ice at the bottom of the freezer for the last six months.
"Well, Ash," he murmured as he shut the doors. "You don't do things by halves, do you?"
Over dinner, Sophocles gushed about their adventure, for good reason. The two of them had
apparently saved the shopping mall from lockdown. But for all Sophocles' excitement, Ash just
smiled vaguely and stayed out of the conversation, more interested in his food until Sophocles
reached the battle portion of the story.
"Pikachu and Togedemaru made such an awesome team!" he enthused. "It was so cool – there was
no way Pikachu could have battled from where it was, but with Togedemaru's lightning rod, it was
like we could just redirect its thunderbolt! So amazing!"
"Pi-ka!" Pikachu agreed, while Togedemaru squealed. Kukui could already see it had taken a bit of a
fancy to the electric mouse.
"It wasn't redirecting," RotomDex corrected imperiously. "Togedamaru absorbed Pikachu's
electricity and used it to power its –"
"Yeah, we know, Rotom," Ash laughed. "But that doesn't change how cool it was!"
Sophocles shook his head, like Ash was missing the point. "It wasn't that cool; it was all part of my
plan. Lightning rod is the most efficient way to battle with Togedemaru, which I of course worked
out from the data a long time ago. I had everything under control from the start."
Kukui had spent too much time around Sophocles to believe that when he heard it, but Ash just
grinned and went back to his food. Sophocles continued to brag about defeating Team Rocket—Ash
only interjected at the end to wonder 'what was up with that Bewear'—and then how they
apparently found the generator room and fixed everything.
Sophocles was justifiably very impressed with himself. A young kid having quickly resolved a problem
the actual mall employees had barely understood was worth bragging about. Kukui was impressed
with the less exciting parts of the story too – the Sophocles he knew never would have been able to
Page 14
pull himself together enough to operate under those conditions, let alone take the initiative to do
something about it.
And yet, he still found himself focussing on Ash. Who hadn't raised the topic and didn't seem all that
invested in it. Who was honestly more interested in his food and making sure Pikachu didn't drink an
entire bottle of ketchup. Who, when asked about his day, had admitted to making a mess of the
house and asked the professor to show him how the washing machine actually worked, but hadn't
said a word about the lockdown beyond explaining he'd run out of time to get groceries.
Implying that none of this had been anything worth mentioning, as far as he was concerned.
Like it was nothing out of the ordinary.
With those kind of thoughts whirling around Kukui's head, he found it a little hard to focus on the
achievement.
Neither a basic internet search or the Pokemon Professors' Pokepedia brought up much information
on Team Rocket.
There were a few vague references in news articles, but even they had little more than speculation
as to the existence of a Team Rocket that operated in the furthest Eastern regions. The articles
suggested they were a large criminal organisation that seemed to specialise in pokemon trafficking,
but there was nothing concrete, and in every article, Officer Jenny declined to comment.
There was definitely a Rocket Industries, but it was a legitimate organisation that traded on the stock
market and invested in various technologies. It was a little hard for Kukui to figure out how they
originally made the money they invested, but it all seemed above board. Not that he would have
known either way – he had never been one for business.
But even if he had been, he doubted he would have found any reason to think it had anything to do
with a couple of thieves chasing around a kid whose pokemon was—while very well trained and
capable of incredible Z-moves—not that special or unusual.
Kukui rubbed his jaw, wondering whether it was worth looking into. Honestly, Team Rocket behaved
like obnoxious teenagers playing a prank, and in the end the whole thing on the beach had been
more of an annoyance than anything. And while it was possible Sophocles and Ash hasn't known the
whole story, even the incident at the mall didn't seem that bad.
Perhaps he was just worrying over nothing. Maybe Team Rocket were an older and more
adventurous version of Team Skull – a pseudo-gang that made life a little more irritating but not that
dangerous on the whole.
It would certainly explain the way Ash responded to them – like they were infuriating but ultimately
harmless. Half of Alola felt the same complex mix of annoyance and concern for the members of
Team Skull. Maybe Team Rocket had just broken a few too many last straws in their time chasing
Ash around.
It was probably nothing. Kukui didn't need to worry about it.
He lowered his hand to the desk, ready to push away and get back to work, but then stopped.
The beach had been nothing particularly special, in the end. Everything had turned out fine.
But…
But if Pikachu hadn't broken that net, Team Rocket could have taken off with their ride pokemon.
The whole class could have been left stranded on that sand bank.
Six very valuable pokemon stolen. A class full of young teenagers, not to mention himself, left
abandoned in the middle of the ocean with no way back or ability to communicate with the shore.
With a rising tide.
It had turned out fine.
But it could have been a lot worse. It could have…
It could have become something not even the worst of Team Skull would have been part of.
Page 15
Ash hadn't been in the least bit surprised or shocked. Not until the bewear showed up to cut things
off. He'd watched Team Rocket fall toward the water, ready to order another attack if they somehow
recovered from the twenty-foot drop.
He'd expected to have to battle them to the end.
Kukui's hand went back to his jaw, and he spent a few seconds just staring sightlessly at the last
news article he'd read.
It had turned out fine.
Team Rocket didn't seem that intelligent. Maybe they just… maybe they just hadn't realised the
consequences of what they were doing. They probably weren't dangerous. He was almost definitely
worrying over nothing.
Because… because if he wasn't, and Team Rocket really was dangerous, and they really had been
chasing Ash around for that long, then surely his mother, or Professor Oak, or… or someone…
He was worrying over nothing, he told himself firmly, and turned off the computer.
"Professor Kukui, it's nice to meet—" Oak's assistant winced at a loud crash in the background, then
slowly turned his head to peek off-camera. He hesitated a few moments, in which several more
crashes and muffled swearing could be heard, before coming back to the screen. "—you. I'm Tracey
– we've emailed a few times."
"Ah, yes, thank you for your assistance. I –" He stopped at a crash heavy enough to make the
assistant stumble. "Is everything alright over there?"
"Oh, yes. One of our newer trainers recently sent us a snorlax," he explained. "It's… well, it's not
really as well trained as we would like. And it doesn't sleep as much as most snorlax do. It uh… it's
having some trouble adjusting to –" He closed his eyes at another crash. "Adjusting to life at the
ranch."
"Tracey!" Oak shouted from off-screen. "Where is Snorlax?"
"One moment, Professor," Tracey said, before stepping away to look off-screen. "You mean –"
"Snorlax AshK!"
"Uh… in the field, I would assume."
"What about Muk?"
"Definitely in the compost heap."
"Arghhh!"
He visibly hesitated, then said, "Professor Kukui is on the line, Professor. I suspect –"
"What? What?" Oak appeared, looking very ruffled and irritable. He threw a glance at the screen
before glaring at Tracey. "What's he done?"
Kukui wasn't quite sure how to take the implication he'd done anything. Yes, he was calling just to
settle his own nerves, but there was nothing that unusual about calling a Pokemon Professor to
enquire about a Trainer. But Tracey only shrugged like it was an acceptable question. "I haven't
asked. It seems a little soon for anything too far out of the ordinary."
Oak grunted and turned his glare on Kukui. "If he's still breathing and it hasn't been more than
twelve hours since he switched dimensions, I do not have time for it. And unless the Legendary has
actively kidnapped or eaten him, it takes a lower priority than him sorting out his Talonflame and
Swellow. I've had to replace the windows in my barn twice already since he left!"
Kukui stared. "Wait, by 'he', do you mean Ash?"
Another crash made Oak whip around, and then yell loudly, flailing his arms. "Not the transponder!"
and then he dashed away. "Tracey! Get me Muk!"
The assistant stared after him for a moment, then walked back to the camera. "Is this about Ash? Did
something happen?"
"N- well, yes, but… I just wanted to ask about someone he's run into a few times over the last couple
of days," he said slowly. "Team Rocket?"
Page 16
"Jessie and James? And a talking Meowth?" he asked. "They've apparently started rhyming a lot
recently?"
"Yes. You're familiar?"
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised they're in Alola now," he said. "Don't worry about them too much
– they'll show up once every couple of days to try and steal Pikachu. And no, before you ask, Ash
would never actually try and kill them – they know how to land safely and they're almost as durable
as he is. It'll be fine."
"Uh…" Kukui began, but another crash and holler from Oak made the assistant wince.
"I really have to go. Good luck, Professor!" he said, and then switched off the screen.
Kukui watched from beside the fish tank as Ash stared down two very mulish-looking flying types
through the television. He was doing a very good impression of a disappointed father.
Apparently, while he appreciated their rivalry to become the fastest bird alive, he was not impressed
with their attempt to settle it with actual fights at sub-sonic speeds near existing buildings. He was
threatening to get a pidgeot to settle the matter if they couldn't find a more constructive way to
battle. Or worse, a charizard. You didn't have to be a streamlined bird to be an excellent flying type,
after all.
While Kukui had always found it mildly annoying when people claimed pokemon didn't have
expressions, he had to admit he'd never seen two birds look quite so ashamed before. The larger
one seemed particularly guilty when Ash asked what 'Noivern' was thinking to see all this. And when
he sighed that maybe staying in Alola had been a bad idea, both birds squawked like children
insisting their parents really didn't need to come home from a holiday. That everything was fine and
they would play well together and the house would be absolutely spotless when Mum and Dad got
back – happy, relaxed, and not a minute sooner than planned.
Ash gave them the kind of look a boy his age shouldn't have been able to master. "So you two will
get along? No more fighting?"
They bobbed their heads enthusiastically, chirping something incomprehensible to Kukui.
"Well, that's a relief," Ash said with a breath, and then gave them his best impossibly broad smile.
"Everyone should get along. And you guys are so strong and amazing, I really want you to become
great friends, okay? I bet, if you worked together, the two of you could become the fastest flying
types the world has ever seen! Just, you know, maybe do your training away from Professor Oak's
barn?"
They agreed, and Ash sent them on their way before Oak returned the screen. He still looked
annoyed, but in better shape than he'd been yesterday afternoon. "Thank you. I hope your next
flying type doesn't add to my problems."
"Nah," he said, reaching over to pull Rowlet into his arms where Oak could see. "Rowlet seems a lot
happier sleeping in my backpack. It's not really a very good flier."
He scowled at the little owl. "It doesn't look much like a flying type. Is that secondary? What's its
primary? Grass? Ground?"
"Grass. It knows this awesome move called Leafage! It's like a tornado, but with leaves!"
"I see. And which fire-type did you have it humiliate before it decided to adopt you?"
Kukui frowned. He understood the professor had apparently been having a bad few days, but that
didn't make it acceptable to tease a young boy. Worse, Ash just chuckled like he was slightly
embarrassed, and started telling him about Team Rocket's mimikyu.
Oak didn't seem to need an explanation about who Team Rocket were, or why they were in Alola,
but he didn't seem that concerned, either. Still more annoyed than anything.
Kukui's nerves didn't settle at all.
First Lesson: Responsibility
"Wow. That's a lot of rain."
Page 17
Swallowing a mouthful of coffee, Kukui looked over to where Ash was lingering in the doorway,
staring out at the weather. "Yes. Luckily, Alola never really gets the monsoon seasons most tropical
islands do, but we do have a lot of rain in Summer. We'll have quite a few days like this over the next
few months."
Ash's eyes widened as he looked back over his shoulder. "Days? This is gonna last for days?"
"One or –"
"Allow me to explain!" Rotom cried, swooping around to hover in Ash's field of vision. "The Alolan
islands are prone to extreme weather changes, which allow for its local fauna and flora to flourish.
While the islands commonly experience hot and humid days year round, rain storms are frequent,
often lasting up to a week at a time, with rainfall averages around six inches each cycle."
Ash blinked a few times, then glanced out at the rain one more time before sighing and shutting the
door. Kukui raised an eyebrow. "You don't like the rain?"
"It's not that I don't like it," he said as he wandered back into the house proper. "On the road, rain
means you're stuck. You can't walk in the rain for long – you'd end up sick. And unless you're actually
training for water-type moves, it makes it too dangerous for pokemon training. So I never know
what to do when it rains."
"Pika…" Pikachu agreed wearily. It was standing on the couch, peeking up and out the window just
as its trainer had stared out the door.
Kukui shrugged. "Well, the good news is that you're not on the road this time. Why don't you take a
day off for once?"
"Huh? Of course I'm taking a day off, it's the weekend," he said, and Kukui chuckled.
"No, I mean a proper day off. In all the time you've been here, I don't think I've seen you do that yet.
Hang out, watch TV. You know – relax." He paused to knock back the last of his drink before setting
the now-empty cup on the sink. "I have to go into the lab and give one of the scientists an update.
There's some snacks in the pantry if you get hungry, so no cooking!"
Ash laughed and nodded. "Sure thing! We learned our lesson last time, right Pikachu? Rotom?"
"Pika!"
"I solemnly promise not to allow Ash near the stove again," Rotom swore, and Kukui grinned.
It was only later, when he got home to find Ash and the pokemon loitering on the front porch along
with half the living room furniture, that he realised his mistake in ever leaving this group at home
alone. As he stared over the situation, Rotom immediately began rattling off calculations about how
unlikely it was that they could have wrecked the house twice in the two times they'd been left alone,
and how—statistically speaking—Rotom was absolutely and definitely not to blame for this. Ash just
laughed weakly while Pikachu rubbed the back of its head, Rockruff tried to hide behind the
upturned table, and Rowlet snored.
But it was still raining, so Kukui squeezed himself up between the kitchen chairs before turning his
carefully blank stare on Ash. "What happened?"
"Well, y'see…" He gestured vaguely toward the house. "We were going to do dishes before trying
out the TV. Rockruff decided to hang around, and so while I washed, it was lying on my foot, and
Rowlet was sleeping," he said, pointing at each pokemon in turn.
"Pika," Pikachu added. "Pika pikachu, pika."
Ash nodded like it had actually contributed to the discussion. "But Rowlet must've had a nightmare
or something, because it suddenly started yelling, and that startled me, and so I moved my feet, but
that just scared Rockruff even worse, and I tripped over it, only I tried to stop myself from falling and
grabbed the draining board, but that didn't stop anything and everything just fell and broke," he said
with a wince.
"Okay…" he said slowly, not seeing how that could have gotten all the living room furniture out here.
"You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"
Page 18
"What? No, I'm fine. But it did scratch up the floor really badly," he continued. "But I couldn't find
any sanding paper to fix it."
"Fix it?" he asked incredulously. "What?"
"Don't worry, it's fine!" he said quickly, waving his hands. "We went out and bought stuff to replace
everything."
"Pika pikachu!" Pikachu added, while Rotom's screen flicked on to a town map.
"I directed Ash to the nearest house wares store, and then to a hardware store, and advised him of
the highest quality materials," it said proudly, before flicking onto an annoyed emoji. "He didn't buy
them."
"I told Rotom you wouldn't like fine china," Ash said, before wincing again. "You wouldn't, right?"
Kukui was beginning to feel a little out of his depth. "You went out and bought new plates and cups?
Just how many things did you break?"
"Just a plate!" he said, then added a little more quietly, "and… your breakfast mug. But Mom always
says everything should match, so don't worry – I bought a whole set to replace them."
Very out of his depth. "I… see… And what was that about the hardware store?"
"To fix the floor," he said blankly, as Pikachu gestured with both paws toward the house. "The
hardware guys were so great, too. I was just gonna sand the scratches down, but they taught me all
this stuff about how to polish and wax the boards so you can't even tell anything was done to it!"
Kukui thought of the floorboard he'd put a foot through last year, which was still strategically
covered with an archiving box. He felt his eye twitch slightly.
"Only, we kind of ran into a bit of trouble with that," Ash admitted. "I made a mess of it. And then
Rockruff ran through it. So we had smudges everywhere. So I did more to even it out, and… well…"
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking around the crowded porch. "The guys at the hardware store
said you shouldn't put down furniture until it's all dry and that could take hours, so…"
For a few seconds, Kukui couldn't get his mind to process anything beyond the fact that Ash had
apparently made over his living room floor because of a few minor scratches. Mostly, he couldn't
figure out whether to be impressed or exasperated. Or embarrassed, because if he'd broken a cup
and damaged the floor, he probably would have thrown out the cup and forgotten it by lunchtime.
But, in the end, he managed to focus just enough to point out, "I thought you were going to spend
the day in front of the TV. When did you have time to do all this?"
Rotom lifted a wing in point. "It is conventional wisdom to do chores before beginning any enjoyable
activity. This ensures the necessary tasks are done first and you will not be distracted."
"I would've done it even if you hadn't told me," Ash told it mulishly. "I'm not that irresponsible,
y'know."
"Pika," Pikachu said quietly, and Ash made a face before adding, "Usually."
Despite existing in a hard plastic casing that couldn't actually express emotion, Rotom did an
excellent job of giving Ash the side-eye. "Existing data does not support this hypothesis."
"Hey!"
Kukui decided not to get involved in that debate, simply because he wasn't sure which side he could
come down on. Instead, he clambered past a pile of pokemon toys to reach the front door, so he
could open it and have a look at the result.
It was a clean, polished floor. Not all the way to the edges, and since it was still a little wet you could
see where Ash had completely failed to keep a straight line in his painting. He'd also missed a few
waxy pawprints on the way to the door, but Kukui glanced down at Rockruff, still peeking out from
under the table in shame, and decided he liked that addition. He glanced back up at Ash, who was
still watching him warily, and inwardly sighed. What could you do?
"Welp!" he said, and shut the door. "Since we can't go inside for a while, let's go out for an early
dinner, what do you say?"
Page 19
"Wh- really?" Ash asked. "You're not mad?"

"No, but I think we should revisit that chores discussion we had," he said, climbing back out to grab
his umbrella again. "I'm thinking maybe I should handle all the housework from now on, what do you
say?"
Ash blinked, obviously shocked by the lack of reaction. Not that Kukui was completely sure what
reaction he should have had. He wasn't even sure how he actually felt. He definitely wasn't mad.
There was something ticking in his chest, uneasy and unhappy, but he had no idea why. It got a little
worse when Ash slowly pulled back into himself, moving past shock and into a concerned frown.
"That's not fair. I need to do something to pull my weight, right?"
He nearly pointed out the data Ash was unknowingly providing, or the sheer entertainment value
he'd created in Kukui's life, but managed to stop himself at the last moment. He smiled and
shrugged instead. "Well, if you're really worried about it, you can do the grocery shopping. We'll do
it together a few times, so you see the kind of household stuff I get, and then I'll leave it up to you.
How would that be?"
"Uh… sure, I guess," he said. "Are you sure? I can still do dishes – I promise this won't happen again."
"From existing data, that it is statistically improbable," said Rotom, and Ash glared at it.
"I keep telling you it was an accident!"
"Okay, you two, let's make that a Parting Shot and move on to the next round," Kukui said, flicking
open his umbrella. Once again, Ash gave him an oddly surprised look, but didn't say anything before
grabbing Rowlet's pokeball and returning it. Kukui filed the reaction away for later consideration,
along with the rest of Ash's strange decisions over this rainy day.
He could analyse the kid later, after the wax had dried.
A day after the rain had stopped, Kukui found himself lying awake late at night, listening to the quiet
noises he could hear in the basement.
He rubbed his face, debating whether it was worth getting one of his pokemon. He didn't really think
it would be thieves – he didn't study anything worth stealing, and all his valuable material goods
were on the main floor. There was that Team Rocket, but from what little Ash had said about them,
it didn't sound like they would go after his research. It was more likely to be Guzma or one of his
idiots. Or…
He squinted up at the darkness of the ceiling, as if he could see through to the loft above.
It wouldn't be the weirdest thing the kid had done.
He grabbed a pokeball just in case and trudged down toward the basement stairs. It was dark, lit
only by the glow of the tank and… ah, yes. Rotom was shining a bright light over Ash's shoulder, so
he and Pikachu could stare at an open book.
"Ah, found it… normal type, uses fe- fero- oh, man… fe-ro-mo-nes? What the heck are fero-moan-
es?" he demanded in a rough whisper.
"Scanning," Rotom reported. "Pheromones. Secreted or excreted chemicals that trigger social
responses."
Ash started to turn and stare at it, but caught sight of Kukui lingering on the stairs before he could
finish. He jumped, snapping the book shut and jerking upright. "Professor Kukui! Sorry! I – I didn't
mean –"
"It's alright, Ash, calm down," he said, and yawned. "But it's really late. What are you doing awake at
this time of night?"
"Nothing!" he said, while Pikachu echoed him, shifting as if to hide the book from view.
Kukui peered at them for a long few seconds, then wandered over to snag the book out of Ash's
hands. "You know, most kids sneaking into their guardians' reading material are looking at porn,
not…" He paused to look at the title of the book. "…the scientific glossary of pokemon move origins."
Page 20
He returned his nonplussed gaze to Ash. "I know you're still young and all, but you really need a
hobby."
Ash pulled back, obviously not sure how to respond to that. "Uh, well, I…"
"Why are you studying at two o'clock in the morning?" he asked wearily. "I don't mind you reading
my books, if that's what you're worried about."
"Oh, uh, no, that…" It was kind of hard to tell in the dark, but he was pretty sure Ash was blushing. "I
just didn't want to bother anyone. You're so busy with school and your work at the lab, I didn't want
you to think you needed to help me with this."
"Well, now you have me curious. But whatever it is can wait until tomorrow," he said, and gently
kicked at Ash's hip. "Go on, get up to bed."
Ash hesitated, then sighed and scooped up Pikachu as he clambered to his feet. "Yeah, okay."
Kukui followed him back upstairs and waited for him to get up the ladder and settle down. Once he
was sure Ash was in bed, he went back to his own, absently cataloguing all the moves that used
pheromones even as he drifted off to sleep.
By the time Ash got up the next morning, it had coalesced into an entire lesson. He fully intended to
present it to a class one day, but first he had to test it on a willing student. He waited just long
enough for Ash to send Pikachu outside for fresh air—and for Rotom to take its educational thunder-
stealing self out with it—and begin rummaging for breakfast before pouncing.
"Pheromones," he began, "are kind of like a smell. Only you don't realise you're smelling them. Your
body reacts to them unconsciously. It's a chemical reaction that influences a lot of social behaviours
in both people and pokemon."
Ash stared at him blankly until the memory apparently came back. He almost immediately put down
the cereal box to wave his hands awkwardly. "Oh, y- you don't have to –"
"Nonsense! Talking about moves and how they work is what I'm really interested in, after all!" he
said cheerfully. "So, which move were you looking into? Sweet Scent? Charm?"
Ash's blush was more visible this time. "Attract."
"Ah, the be-all and end-all of pheromone-based moves," Kukui laughed. "And the bane of many a
pokemon trainer."
"Yeah… I have a snivy that used to spam it every chance it got," Ash agreed. "I encouraged it to start
with, but now I try to avoid it if we've got other options. It can be kind of cheap."
"Oh, I don't know. How is it any worse than…" He trailed off, because every move he could think of
had an easy antidote. True, professional battlers didn't use antidotes until after the round was over
—if at all—but it was probably the principle of the thing. "Well, if you put the move into a roster,
you might as well use it. So if you've used it before, why the research?"
"It… well…" Ash shifted awkwardly, then put the cereal away and got out the milk to finish making
breakfast. He looked surprisingly embarrassed. "I don't – I don't really… get it. How it works."
Kukui grinned. "I'm making a career out of questions like that, you know! At its most basic, it works
on chemicals. A pokemon releases pheromones, causing the opponent to –"
"But only if the two battlers are different genders," Ash interrupted. "That's what I don't get."
He blinked, and Ash grimaced.
"I don't normally pay attention to that stuff – I mean, who cares? As long as it's strong and happy,
then it doesn't matter whether it's a boy or girl, right?" He carried his bowl over to the table and
poked at it with his spoon, apparently to better avoid looking at Kukui. "But Sophocles keeps
bringing it up, reminding me that Togedemaru is a girl. At first, I figured he was saying that was why
it worked so well with Pikachu, like a brother-sister combo, only yesterday Lana said that probably
wasn't what Togedemaru had in mind. But he must've been telling me it's a girl because it's
important for some reason. And the only time it's important is when you're using a move like
Attract. So…"
Page 21
Kukui winced around his smile. Having watched the two pokemon interact, he suspected Sophocles
was trying to awkwardly raise the issue of their pokemon potentially breeding. But that was
probably a conversation for another day, because Ash was continuing his train of thought.
"It got me thinking, you know? About why it works the way it does. It's not like a ghost-type move,
where it makes sense for it not to work against another type. And that would make sense, because I
can totally get why a grass-type wouldn't be able to distract a water-type or whatever, because a
water-type's gonna be on guard around a type that could badly hurt them, right? But it's got nothing
to do with that. It's just about whether they're a girl or a boy."
Kukui opened his mouth, then stopped. And after another moment, he stared.
He had been about to make a very obvious and—now he was taking a second to think about it—very
flawed argument, but Ash had actually raised a very good point. Why wasn't Attract influenced by
type or evolution? He'd never spent a lot of time researching pheromone based moves, preferring
attacks to stasis moves, but what little research he'd done into it told him it was a commonly
accepted theory that Attract had evolved as an evolutionary assistant. That is, pokemon had
originally used it to procreate. And yet if that was the case, then why was it so universal? A stufful
couldn't mate with a dartrix. And yet they could Attract one another.
He twitched with the urge to start taking notes. This was absolutely a paper in the making.
"So there must be something that makes boys and girls different," Ash continued, frustrated and
entirely oblivious to Kukui's rising academic excitement. "If Attract is all about the fera-moles then
it's gotta be that. But when I ask people about how Attract works, they just laugh at me and say 'oh
Ash' like I'm being stupid. Iris said that if I didn't get it, it was because I was a little kid, and that time,
Cilan actually agreed with her! Like I'm just supposed to know! Then they made some joke about
how I have the ability Oblivious, which I'm pretty sure was an insult, but I don't even know why! But I
didn't want to ask more questions when they were laughing at me, and the guys here don't think I'm
an idiot yet so I don't want them to know I don't know, but if it's something I'm supposed to know
then I should know it and I don't!"
Kukui stared. While he'd delved into the theory, the conversation had somehow gone sideways, and
he no longer understood what they were talking about. He resorted to some of the basic teaching
skills he'd learned back in the day – if a student didn't understand something, go back and find the
point where they stopped following the lesson.
He was pretty sure Ash understood the concepts. He apparently couldn't say the word 'pheromone'
but knew it was a chemical. He understood that Attract worked on opposing genders, and that it had
something to do with pheromones. But something about that was confusing him. Something
fundamental.
Which wasn't surprising. Kukui had noticed that about Ash – whenever he tried to work something
out, he assumed he didn't already understand it because it was complicated. That caused him to
overthink things, get stuck on minor details, and ignore the usually simple error he'd initially made.
So what was it about Attract that everyone just took for granted, but Ash didn't? What was Ash
overthinking?
'There must be something that makes boys and girls different.'
He blinked, pulling his head back. Surely not. Surely that couldn't…
"Ash," he said slowly, "do you know what makes males and females different?"
He blushed, indignity rising. "Of course I do! They look different! You know, different tails or colours
or…" His blush got a lot worse. "And the other stuff. You know… down there on humans. But those
aren't chemicals!"
"Well, technically everything is chemicals," he said, furrowing his brow. "But you're right. That's all…"
He frowned as he tried to find words that apparently refused to come. Now he was overthinking it.
Page 22
And Ash was right! Attract didn't have anything to do with the physical attributes – if it did, it would
have been banned from battle a hundred years ago purely for decency's sake. It was about
attraction, and that shouldn't be a difficult concept to –
He stopped himself right there. Not only had he been about to think the most stupid, out of touch,
grown-up thing ever… but he was forgetting who he was talking to.
Ash had been travelling for a long time, and normally you could make certain assumptions about a
person with that kind of background. Pokemon journeys were usually less about starting a career in
the professional pokemon industry and more about kids growing up and finding out who they
wanted to be. There were a lot of kids that barely caught more than a couple of pokemon, instead
taking the time to learn different skills and meet people.
Socialising was usually the biggest part of a real journey. For the first time, kids were away from their
parents. Nurse Joy and the gym leaders weren't there to tell them how to behave, so the kids
experimented. They tried being jerks, tried being kind, tried all sorts of personalities. And then they
tried them on different people, to see the kind of reactions they got. Eventually, they tried flirting.
And then flirting would become kissing, and so on. Eventually, most kids figured all that out, spent a
few more months working out that they weren't destined for the professional pokemon industry,
and then they went back home and settled down for some real life.
In the back of his mind, Kukui had kind of assumed Ash would have gone through all that. Sure he
was hyperactive, but he was also a genuinely nice guy, full of the kind of emotional maturity that had
to have been learned through experience. And he was so good with the girls. He'd only been at
school a week, and already Kukui had seen all three of them giving him curious glances. It seemed
logical that he could have only gotten to this point by suffering through at least one or two
relationships.
But logic, he was beginning to realise, was not always the best device to use when attempting to
make sense of Ash Ketchum.
Ash probably hadn't even had a normal journey, Kukui reminded himself. Team Rocket was one
thing, but even if they hadn't been apparently hounding his every step, normal kids on normal
journeys weren't so acutely focussed on their dreams. Kukui had been tired and teasing last night,
but he was really coming to appreciate the fact that Ash literally had no life outside pokemon
training. No hobbies, no outside interests. He was perfectly sociable and able to talk about other
things, but it was usually only for someone else's sake. The only reason you couldn't call him a
workaholic was because until you actually achieved a title, people didn't usually consider pokemon
training a career.
And with that thought, Kukui finally realised what had bothered him about Ash's actions on the rainy
day. It wasn't that he'd broken a few plates or attacked Kukui's floor in a misguided attempt to help.
That had all been kind of funny in its own way. What had bothered him was that none of it had been
the kind of behaviour he expected from a kid Ash's age.
It was the reminder that—generally speaking—when left to his own devices, Ash didn't behave like a
normal kid.
And when Kukui thought about it… that should have been obvious. He hadn't grown up here in Alola,
and he'd spent the last few years dedicated to the Pokemon Battle Circuit. Ash's entire worldview
was structured around how you behaved on a professional journey, where you only stopped during
the day because you had something to do – even if that something was just exploring your
environment or getting to know the locals. You didn't take days off to do nothing. You didn't wait to
see what other people thought of your actions. You kept moving, kept working, and if you got into
trouble you found a way out of it, and avoided any expected fallout by simply moving on. People and
their reactions to you were just complications that you tried not to focus on.
Page 23
When he thought about it like that, Kukui wasn't in the least bit surprised that Ash hadn't worked
out the whole attraction thing yet.
"Professor?"
He blinked, then blanched, suddenly realising he'd been silently staring at the kid for a ridiculous
amount of time. "Sorry, I was thinking through a problem."
"A problem? Is everything okay?"
He flicked his hand to dismiss the concern, and then took a moment to rearrange his thoughts into
something that wouldn't sound so much like a failing on Ash's part. "Now that we're talking about it,
I actually find that you raise a perfectly legitimate question," he began slowly. "After all, attraction
isn't just about a person's gender in humans, so why should it be so for pokemon?"
Ash blinked. "Attraction? Like… liking someone?"
And there it was. The integral point that Ash had skipped past in trying to work it all out. "Of course.
Where did you think Attract got its name from?"
He opened his mouth, then shut it again, apparently stunned. He blinked a few more times, and then
lowered his eyes to the cereal that Kukui suspected had become increasingly soggy. "Oh. So… so
when a pokemon gets hit by Attract, they're distracted because they're being forced to like the other
pokemon. That kind of like?"
"That's right."
His brow only furrowed further. "But… but then why does it only work on opposite genders? I mean,
that's not how that works with people. Not all the time."
Somehow, Kukui wasn't in the least bit surprised that Ash considered that an obvious fact.
"And there, Ash," he said, lifting his coffee cup to salute him, "is a research topic in the making.
We've always said that Attract is unavoidable except through gender, the Oblivious ability, or sheer
strength of will, but what if it's not? What if it's both more and less powerful than we thought? What
if the real reason some pokemon aren't affected isn't strength of will, but rather a simple lack of
attraction? And while we consider these problems, let us also ask why genderless pokemon are
immune. They are well known—and often used—for their ability to breed, and yet it's a given fact
that they will be immune to Attract. That doesn't make sense, and that makes it an excellent point of
enquiry for a researcher."
He seemed to have lost Ash somewhere along the way, but at least the kid didn't look embarrassed
anymore. "You mean… I'm not stupid for not getting it?"
"No, not at all. You're just looking at things from a different perspective," he said, sitting back in his
chair. "I don't think I'd study it myself—far too time and resource intensive—but it would be a
fascinating research paper."
"Uh… I don't think I get it, but okay!" Ash said. "So I guess what you're saying is that there's no real
answer?"
"Probably." He paused, trying to remember how Ash had originally approached the conversation.
Something about Togedemaru? "What was the question, again?"
"How does Attract work?"
"Oh. Yes, now that you mention it, there's no real answer right now," he said. "I think the best way
to work with it in a pokemon battle is to assume that it will work on a pokemon of the opposite
gender, but don't rely on it working all the time."
Ash chuckled weakly, then shook his head and started eating his cereal. Kukui sipped his coffee,
discovered it had gone cold while he was thinking, and grimaced. He got up to fix the problem, but
found himself considering Ash again as he closed the microwave.
It was really none of his business. But as a teacher, he could just imagine the sort of problems that
could arise in a small, tight-knit class with a friendly kid that didn't notice attraction when it was
staring him in the face. He could already guess which (opposing but related) directions all three girls'
Page 24
imaginations would go. He cringed at the future awkward conversations and decided to soften the
blow by starting them now.
"So, since we're on the topic," he said slowly, "has any human pulled a successful Attract on you?"
Ash blushed again, but didn't answer until he'd finished scarfing down his cereal. And even then, it
wasn't much of an answer. "Um… Well…"
"Ohh?" he prompted, amused. "Ash, do you have a girlfriend?" When Ash only looked more
awkward, he made a point of adding, "or boyfriend?"
"Nothing like that," he insisted, then ducked his head. "There's this girl. We were travelling together
in Kalos. When we said goodbye, she kissed me on the lips, so… I… I don't know… Some of the stuff
that happened when we were together seems kinda weird now. Like I maybe missed some stuff."
Kukui grinned. "Probably. I know I did, when I was your age."
Ash peeked at him sideways, then shrugged and got up to take his bowl back to the kitchen. "I
dunno. It seems like a lot of hard work, that whole liking someone thing. I have this one friend who
falls in love all the time. It makes him really crazy, and he gets really upset whenever it doesn't work
out, which is kind of every time."
"Oh, yes. Believe me, love is always painful," he said. "And it is indeed hard work, even after it stops
hurting so much, but most people will tell you that it's worth the hassle."
"You think so?" he asked, and Kukui paused to take a moment and think of his beautiful Burnet,
working hard on her research and out of his reach.
"Definitely."
Ash smiled and set about washing his bowl and spoon. As soon as he was done, he started for the
door, only to stop after only a few steps to look back at him. "Hey, um, Professor?"
He looked up from thoughts of Burnet. "Hm?"
"Thanks."
Kukui blinked, brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "You're welcome, but what for?"
Ash shifted his weight from one foot to the other, stretching his fingers and looking everywhere but
at Kukui until eventually he shrugged. "I dunno…" He hesitated, then ducked his head into his
shoulders, embarrassed again. "Just… you know… thanks."
Once again, something curled in Kukui's chest. It wasn't warm, like he'd done something good, or
tight, like he'd seen something bad. It was some strange, uncomfortable combination of the two. He
made a point to meet Ash's gaze with nothing but sincerity. "Any time, Ash."
For a moment, the boy seemed to waver in place, like he wasn't sure what to do, before he abruptly
turned and headed out the door.
Growing up, Kukui thought as he retrieved his now-warm coffee, was never easy. Knowing who and
what you wanted to be should have made it simple, but he supposed that it only really changed the
kind of challenges you faced.
As part of his journey to become a Pokemon Master, Ash had stayed in Alola to learn some more of
the theory around pokemon, develop his skills, and continue his dream. But maybe, just maybe, the
more structured environment could teach him a few things he hadn't picked up out on the road.
"Should be interesting to watch," Kukui noted softly, and finished his coffee.
Second Lesson: Care
Ash had been strangely distracted all day, but Rotom's explanation of his stolen lunch and decision
to catch Litten explained that. Kukui was a little confused by Ash's logic – he didn't really understand
how he'd gone from being furious over some stolen food to deciding to catch the pokemon
responsible. There didn't seem to be much connection.
"Stealing food is the absolute worst!" he cried, Pikachu waving its arms and ranting in similar
indignation from his shoulder. "Nothing ticks me off more!"
"Why?" he asked with a laugh. "It's just food. We have plenty."
Page 25
"That's not the point!" he insisted. "You can't just steal someone's food – it's just wrong!"
Kukui shook his head, still amused but deciding it wasn't worth pursuing. Both Ash and Pikachu were
clearly willing to go to bat for this cause for some reason, and Kukui didn't want to get into an
argument over something so ridiculous. He went with the other question instead. "So how does
catching Litten get it back for stealing your food?
That stopped Ash in his tracks, to the point that his arms snapped to his side and he stood at full
attention for two seconds before abruptly swinging his fists up in front of him. "Once I've caught it,
I'll teach it not to steal food! A-and I'll – I'll –"
"Pikachu pika," Pikachu said quietly, and Ash twitched, but didn't say anything in response.
Kukui couldn't help but be amused by that, too. Any other trainer, he might have been concerned
that he would take advantage of the pokeball bond, or punish it. With Ash, however, he strongly
suspected that Litten would be downright spoiled the first few days of its capture. "You don't
actually know, do you?"
He dropped forward, head bowed and arms draped toward the floor. "Not a clue."
Pikachu sighed and patted his hair. "Pikapi…"
"To be honest, though, I don't know if it really deserves to be gotten back anyway," Ash said as he
pulled himself upright. "I don't like how it stole my sandwich, but it doesn't trust humans, so I guess
it's not that surprising that it tricked me. I still want to catch it, and show it that it doesn't need to
steal, but I'm not that angry anymore."
Kukui smiled.
Still, the last thing he expected was for Ash to come home the next night holding a bandaged Litten
in his bloody arms. He would have been confused even if it hadn't turned out that Litten itself was
responsible, but once he heard that, the only reason he didn't immediately try and catch the damn
cat himself was Ash's insistence.
"I brought it back here so it would take it easy and stop making its injuries worse," he said firmly,
washing his arms off in the sink to show Kukui it was mostly just dried blood, not damage. "If we
tried to catch it now, that would make me a liar."
"That's not really what's important here," he said, even as he raised his eyebrows in quiet disbelief.
Ash's arms had looked terrible only seconds ago, but now Kukui was having trouble spotting a single
scratch deep enough to have bled. "I know you want to help Litten, but your own safety takes
precedence."
"Presidents?"
"Precedence. More importance."
"Oh! It's fine, Professor," he insisted. "I know how to take care of myself."
Eating dinner in its usual corner, Pikachu audibly choked, and then broke down in a coughing fit that
had Ash ducking out from the water to hurry over.
"Hey, easy buddy! I know it's good, but you need to remember to chew!"
Kukui watched him go, biting back some half-brained speech about the difference between the
ability and need to take care of yourself. He was the kid's teacher, not his mother. So instead, he
turned his attention back to Litten, who was mulishly eating its own bowl of pokechow and glaring at
them all.
Kukui had never really had a lot of time for felines – he preferred the easy affection of dogs. But
somehow, despite the scratches and Litten's horrible attitude… Even if Ash had been his kid, he
doubted anything he could say would affect that outcome.
He sighed and decided to keep the first aid kit in easy reach.
Surprisingly, Litten was gone in the morning, but Ash wasn't upset. In fact, he bounded down from
the loft in as good a mood as ever, and when Kukui asked, he launched into an enthusiastic tale of an
elderly stoutland, and how Litten had protected everyone from a vicious persian.
Page 26
It always took a lot of willpower not to get distracted by Ash's ability to inhale food in seconds, and
even more over his talent at doing so while talking, but Kukui got the gist, along with the idea that
Litten apparently lived with Stoutland, who was getting old enough for Ash to be mildly concerned
about its age.
"And so?" Kukui prompted, when the story died off. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to get some berries from that lady in the market today," he said. "A whole bunch of oran
berries, and some sitrus berries… maybe leppa berries too!"
He blinked. "Those are just healing berries."
"They taste the best, too! I bet Stoutland will really like them!"
"Stou-" Kukui stared at him. "Talk about a Reversal; I thought you were trying to catch Litten!"
"Nah," he said, and smiled gently. "I couldn't split those two up. And Stoutland definitely doesn't
need a trainer. It used to be really strong!"
Kukui tilted his head curiously, but Ash didn't say anything until he'd gotten up and taken his cereal
bowl back to the kitchen. "That Stoutland… it's getting pretty old. I don't think it can move very far
anymore. Not enough to get its own food, or even really defend itself. But it used to be really
powerful; you can see it in its eyes," he said quietly. "I think getting old and tired has been hard on it.
And needing help, that's been even harder. Litten's the same. But that's why it's good that they have
each other… Litten gets it food, and in return, Stoutland teaches it things. How to be strong, how to
fight. It's an exchange, you know?"
He slowly nodded, hesitant to interrupt despite his confusion. Ash seemed to be thinking something
through.
"But I still want to help," he said, and looked up into the distance. "So I'll bring them some berries.
And maybe they'll let me watch them train. And maybe, if they start to trust me, I'll be able to bring
Nurse Joy to see Stoutland. They'll be so mad!" he added with a soft laugh, before drawing back into
a quieter smile. "But I think Stoutland needs her, whether it wants to admit it or not."
Kukui just stared at him silently for a few moments. Personally, he doubted the two pokemon would
still be there when Ash went back, but…
"You're worried about Stoutland?" he asked, and Ash glanced at him, then shrugged.
"I should finish getting ready for school. Don't go too far while you're waiting for me, Pikachu," he
added to his partner, who waved back before refocussing on its attempts to get Rowlet out of Ash's
bag. Ash grinned and avoided Kukui's gaze as he hurried into the bathroom.
Despite himself, Kukui had to squash an irrational spike of jealousy that Nurse Joy was allowed to
know something when he wasn't. But there wasn't much he could do about it, so he just moved on
with his day. He had a lot to get the class through, just in case Oak decided to give them that extra
egg of his tomorrow. If it went ahead and he wasn't careful, a project like that could screw up his
entire syllabus…
It was just edging into sunset, and Kukui was just starting to wonder how Ash would be getting home
from Lillie's house when his mobile rang. He still found himself staring out the window as he
answered it one-handed. "Kukui here."
"Ah, Professor. This is Hobbes, butler for Ms Lusamine and Mr Mohn's Melemele estate."
He frowned, restraining the urge to start walking toward the door. A phone call didn't automatically
mean there was a problem. "Yes, Hobbes, I remember. It's been a while."
"I understand Master Ash is staying with you throughout his visit to the Alola region," he said. "I
wished to let you know that the young master has now completed his visit and is being driven home
by our chauffeur."
"Oh, right," he said with a laugh. Not that he'd been worried or anything. "Thanks for letting me
know, Hobbes."
Page 27
"But of course," he replied, and then hesitated before adding, "I hope this is not too presumptuous
of me, but are you of any relation to the young master?"
"To Ash? Me? No, no," he said. "Just his teacher and boarding host."
"Ah…" He hesitated again. "Well, this is most awkward. Do you happen to know… does the young
master have relatives?"
Kukui raised an eyebrow, again resisting an urge – this time to pull the phone back and activate the
video function just so he could stare at the other man. "I haven't met her myself, but he originally
visited Alola with his mother. She went back to Kanto almost a month ago. Why do you ask? Did
something happen?"
"Not at all. Please do not be concerned by my hapless attempts at inquiry. I am being most
graceless," he said with a self-recriminating sigh. "If you were his relative, I wished only to express
my warmest regards. Master Ash is an exemplary young man, and if today is any indication, he is
helping Miss Lillie a great deal. I am most appreciative."
"Oh. Well, thank you. I'll be sure to pass on the message if I ever speak to Mrs Ketchum," he said,
making a mental note to track her phone number down. It seemed like a bit of an oversight, now he
thought about it. "The class is very close, and they're all doing their best to help Lillie out."
"Yes. I also wished to enquire for another reason. I couldn't help but notice that Master Ash did not
ask about Miss Lillie's family, or why the Missus is not present at the estate," he continued. "Even
when he heard that Miss Lillie had once lived with the Missus. He did not comment on it at all,
beyond asking for clarification as to who she was in a photograph. I was surprised."
"I wouldn't be," he said lazily, turning to head into the kitchen. Now he knew Ash was on the way
home, he figured he should probably prepare some food for the little black hole. "Ash is from the
East; you might not be familiar, but kids grow up pretty fast out there. Family isn't much of a concern
at his age."
"I suppose that must be it," he agreed, and Kukui looked sideways again. Hobbes almost sounded
disappointed.
"Is something wrong?"
"Not at all! I just… I had thought, from Master Ash's behaviour, that perhaps he might be able to
empathise with Miss Lillie's situation," he said slowly. "And if that were the case, then he may be
able to…"
Kukui smiled sadly. While they all kind of knew Lillie's situation—her missing father, absent mother,
recently distant brother, whatever happened to make her afraid of pokemon—they all also kind of
knew that she was dealing with it by insisting there was nothing wrong. That none of it bothered
her, and she was 'just fine'. As an adult, who could see the behaviour for what it was, it was a little
heartbreaking. Maybe Lillie talked to the other kids, but she definitely didn't want any adult's help.
He suspected her mother had a lot to do with that.
Whereas Ash simply didn't tell him or include him in anything because he was a teacher. Which was
why Nurse Joy, less of an authority figure and more of a practical component in a trainer's life, was
allowed to be included in his plans and not him. Not because he trusted her more, or anything like
that. Kukui had no reason to be jealous or concerned about it, and he wasn't.
He twitched and tried to ignore the fact he'd just narrowly avoided a mental tantrum by skating past
it.
"I know we've said this before, Hobbes, but Lillie is a strong young woman. She's going to make it
through this. She just needs time and understanding," he said. "Even if they don't really understand
her situation, I'm sure Ash and the other kids will be right there for her when she's ready to talk
about these things. As will you and I, if she should come to us."
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"Yes, I suppose you're right," Hobbes said reluctantly. "Please do forgive the fancy, but I must
confess that when I remembered that this was the boy Miss Lillie had said to have met Tapu Koko, I
daresay part of me wondered if this was the guardians gifting us just what was needed."
Kukui chuckled. "Nice as that would be, I'm afraid Ash is just your average travelling pokemon
trainer." That was chosen as a rival by a living god. He found himself blinking at the reminder and
forced himself to move past it. "But I'll be sure to let you know if I see any miracles."
Hobbes returned his weak laugh with one of his own. "It would be much appreciated, Professor.
Well, I should get back to work. Thank you for your time. And for this assignment for Miss Lillie. I
believe it will be most beneficial."
"I hope so too. Good night, Hobbes."
"Good night, Professor Kukui."
He hung up the phone and stared at it for a few seconds, before lifting his gaze back to the setting
sun out the window.
Then he shook his head and started in on dinner.
Ten minutes later, headlights swung past the window as the first sign Ash had returned from Lillie's
estate, so he barely looked up as the door opened. "Welcome back."
"Pi-ika!" Pikachu greeted, bounding in first only to stop when there was no responding bark. "Pika?"
"Rockruff isn't here tonight," he told it absently, before looking up at Ash and Rotom. "How'd it go
with Lillie and the egg?"
"Pretty great," Ash said as he crossed to the loft ladder. "She can already touch it! She's gonna be a
great pokemon trainer, you just wait!"
Rotom, however, flew over to the kitchen with a frown on its screen. "Judging by her continued fear
of other pokemon even coming close to her, I do not think she will be able to train pokemon."
"You don't know that, Rotom," Ash argued. "You saw that picture – she used to be able to touch
pokemon just fine."
"Oh, you heard about that then?" asked Kukui, glancing up at the loft as Ash disappeared over the
edge. "Has she remembered anything about what caused the fear?"
"Nope. But it must've been pretty bad if it made her scared of pokemon," he said vaguely, before
muttering something out of Kukui's hearing. He was still looking over his shoulder when he came
back to the ladder, now sans bag, so Kukui focussed on the original tone rather than what he hadn't
heard, assuming he'd been talking to Rowlet.
"You don't sound very surprised."
"It happens sometimes," he said, in a surprising display of nonchalance for someone that had been
violently smacked across the room by an angry exeggutor tail and happily gone in for another look.
He finished swinging his way down the ladder and walked around to grab Pikachu's bowl from the
sink without so much as a glance at Kukui. "She just needs some time and a chance to get used to
them. She's just gotta realise that not all pokemon are like the one that hurt her."
"Hurt her…?" Rotom repeated, while Kukui looked at him curiously.
"You think that's what it was?"
Ash was quiet for a few moments, apparently focussed on the thoughtless task of filling the bowl
with pokechow and setting it down for Pikachu. When he looked back up, it was with his usual broad
grin. "I wouldn't have a clue!"
Rotom face-faulted in the air. "Don't sound so certain when you don't know!"
But Kukui narrowed his eyes slightly. Between the ridiculous thoughts Hobbes had just put in his
head and the fact that Pikachu—who could only be beaten in speed-gluttony by its trainer—wasn't
eating, still watching Ash quietly… It reminded him of the way Ash had looked after they first dealt
with Team Rocket, and the other day, with Litten and Stoutland. It made Kukui wanted to prod at the
grin until he got something else.
Page 29
But Ash had apparently already moved on, walking around to lean on the bench and watch Kukui
cook. "Whatever it is, she'll work it out. She's stronger than she thinks. We've just gotta give her time
and help out where we can."
Now he really wanted to prod at it. No one—let alone a hyperactive kid like Ash—should have been
able to say something so insightful while using such a cheerful tone of voice. But actual poking, he
decided, would probably cross a line. So he went for metaphorical instead.
"You surprise me again, Ash," he said, and Ash blinked back.
"I do? Why?"
"Well, a lot of people would say that they can't help Lillie overcome her fears if they don't know the
root of the problem," he pointed out, but Ash just scoffed.
"Well, that's stupid."
Rotom beeped angrily. "It is an accepted psychological fact, verified by hundreds of the greatest
psychiatric minds!"
"That doesn't make it any less stupid," Ash retorted. "It's not like she's scared because she doesn't
understand something. She knows so much about pokemon, and she loves them a lot. So it's not like
you can just explain away whatever she's worried about. She's gotta work through it inside."
Kukui looked at him from under his brow. "You think it's that easy?"
"I never said it'd be easy. It's just what she's gotta do," he said, and turned around, leaning back
against the counter. "S'why I don't need to know what made her scared. It won't change anything.
All I can do is help give her time. She'll get through it."
He continued watching Ash quietly for a few moments, debating responses. "You don't think it's a
friend's responsibility to try and help her?"
"Responsibility?" he asked. "I want to help. But I'm not gonna do that by making her remember stuff
she doesn't want to. I'm not gonna help anything by telling her how to feel, or what to do. She's the
one who's gotta get through this." Ash paused, apparently noticing that he'd started raising his voice,
because he took a breath and continued in a lower tone. "Lillie's really brave, and she's trying. But I
realised today, I shouldn't just… It's like – it's like Litten."
"Litten?"
"Yeah. I might want to help, but… sometimes you can help most by taking a step back, and letting
them do their own thing," he said, his tone firm like he was reminding himself of the fact. "I'll be
there when they need me. But chasing them down, keeping an eye on them, trying to force them to
do what you think they should do… you should never force someone to think the way you want
them to. All that ever does is hurt people."
Kukui turned his head, watching from the corner of his eye. That heavy feeling in his gut was making
itself known again, niggling for him to notice something. But after a second, Ash swung around to
face him again, all broad smiles and innocent eyes.
"Don't you think?"
He hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I suppose it's true enough."
And it was. It wasn't really how most people approached emotional issues, but there was definite
logic there. And it wasn't that different from what he'd told Hobbes: Lillie needed to work through
this at her own pace, and she would hopefully come to them if and when she was ready for their
help.
But something about the way Ash was explaining it…
He shook his head and continued lightly to change the subject. "So, what about the rest of your
afternoon? What did you think of Hobbes?"
Ash immediately perked up again. "Yeah, he's really cool! Did you know he's a battler? He has this
oricorio, it's so awesome! Beat me and Rowlet pretty good!"
He chuckled. "You're impressed that you lost?"
Page 30
"Of course I am! Oricorio had these dance moves that really knocked us around. I'm not very good
when it comes to dancing," he added with a wince that quickly morphed into a grin. "But it just goes
to show that me and Rowlet have a lot of work to do. I've been all focussed on getting it trained up
with Tackle and Leafage, I totally forgot to get it any practice against real opponents. Gonna have to
fix that, right Pikachu?"
"Pika pika!" it shouted around a mouthful of pokechow.
Rotom groaned. "That will be no help at all! The power difference between Pikachu and Rowlet is far
too extreme. The battle wouldn't last long enough to be of any benefit!"
Ash just grinned even wider. "Oh yeah? So I should get a pokemon more on Rowlet's level, huh?
You'd be pretty close, right Rotom?"
"What?!"
"'Course, then you'd have to train with us! Ever been in a battle before?" he teased. "Now that's
something I'd like to see!"
"I am not intended for battle! I am a RotomDex!" it wailed, and flew behind Kukui's back. "My data is
for analysis, not implementation!"
Kukui laughed, twisting around to give it an evil grin. "You won't get any support here, Rotom. I fully
believe in study through active experimentation, after all!"
"Wh-what?!"
"Yeah!" Ash cheered, and playfully ducked around the bench as if getting ready to pounce. "I think
it's time to experiment. How do you handle a Tackle, Rotom?"
It beeped in alarm and shot out of the kitchen, around the corner and down toward the basement. "I
am not meant for battle!"
"Ah," Kukui joked. "Now that's Extreme Speed."
"And this is Pursuit!" Ash shot back, before taking off at a run.
Kukui just grinned.
Lesson Three: Training trainers
Every other time he'd taught this lesson, it had been simple. Mostly because he was usually dealing
with kids that were more interested in the theory than the practical elements of training, or at the
very least with kids who'd only ever dealt with people from Alola.
Of course, even if he hadn't, in hindsight Kukui had accidentally picked the worst possible time to
give said lesson.
"Similar to regional variant pokemon, trainers from different regions will often have different battle
styles as well. This is often related to how pokemon and the training profession are viewed by the
regional culture," he began, only to stop when he suddenly noticed Kiawe was scowling. "Something
wrong, Kiawe?"
"No," he said, closing his eyes imperiously. "I just can't figure out why any region would value
holding back as a battle style."
Ash immediately whipped around, fist slamming against his desk. "I told you I wasn't holding back!"
"Here we go again," muttered Sophocles.
"Hey, come on now, guys," Mallow said weakly. "Didn't you go through this already?"
"That's right! Surely enough is enough!" cried Lillie.
"I'm not just gonna sit by while he says stuff like that!" Ash snapped, and Kiawe opened one eye to
glare at him.
"And you think I'm just gonna put up with you treating me like some kind of rookie?"
Kukui blinked, staring between the two battlers. "Is something going on here that I should know
about?"
"Nothing's going on," Ash said irritably. "Kiawe's just being stupid."
"What did you say?" Kiawe snapped, and Kukui held up both hands.
Page 31
"Alright, alright, sorry I asked," he joked, and waited through a few seconds of awkward silence
before prompting, "Kiawe, you want to explain what's wrong?"
"Ash," he said bluntly, and then clarified, "He says he never holds back in a battle. And yet there's
never been a knock out when Turtonator battles Pikachu. Even when I land a Z-move."
"So what if Pikachu can survive a Z-move?" Ash shot back. "That doesn't mean I'm holding back
when we battle!"
"Oh yeah? Then why don't you use the same kind of power in battle with me that you used against
Tapu Koko?"
"Because I don't have a Z-crystal anymore!"
"Don't be stupid; I'm talking about that Thunderbolt you hit it with! That was –"
"Alright!" Kukui called over the both of them, and they fell obediently silent. He shook his head and
held up a hand to signal the end of the discussion. "I'll see you both after school and we can talk this
out. But for the meantime, let's just focus on the lesson."
"Fine with me!" Ash snapped at Kiawe, who glared back.
"If you don't skip out early."
"What was –!"
"Enough!" Kukui demanded, and pressed a hand to his head as Ash dropped back into his seat. It
would be easier if they were being disrespectful to him, not just each other. As it was, while he
wanted to send them both out of the classroom, without a mediator that would just escalate the
problem. Man, he hated having to actually pull the authority card. "I don't want to hear anymore
bickering. Understand?"
Ash turned back to face front, and Kiawe folded his arms in sullen silence.
"Alright. Now," He'd completely lost his place. Had he even started the lesson yet? "Regional battle
styles. We learn about them so that—should you leave Alola—you don't accidentally insult an
experienced trainer when commenting on their tactics. What is considered an advanced strategy in
one region could be considered time-wasting or unnecessary flourish in another. This is particularly
true in some of the Eastern regions—"
"Like Kanto?" Sophocles asked with a sneaky grin, which only grew wider at Ash's sharp glance.
"—such as Sinnoh," Kukui said darkly. Sophocles rarely started trouble, but he sure loved to stir it up.
Luckily, a quelling look was enough to make him quiet down for the moment. Less lucky was that
Kukui knew it was just for the moment. His class was usually one of the more mature and well
behaved groups in the school, dedicated to learning and structured by Lillie, Mallow, and Kiawe's
guiding personalities. But that just meant that on the rare occasions they did decide to be brats, it
was all the more difficult to control.
Leaning back against his desk, Kukui drummed his fingers under the lip, debating the merits of
locking this down versus continuing with the lesson. In the end, he decided to risk it. "Sinnoh values
performance, and so they are more likely to train pokemon in a wider variety of skills than those
from other regions. Double- and triple-battles are common, leading to a higher number of
combination attacks, while one-on-one battles will almost always include detailed combo-
manoeuvres. These can take some time to set up, and so many trainers from other regions will
consider it needlessly flashy and even reckless, despite the amount of thought that needs to go into
these strategies."
Lillie raised her hand. "Is there a special reason they do that?"
"There are a number of theories," he said. "Some argue that it's related to the region's love of what
are known as 'Contests'. These are special pokemon performance competitions which combine pure
performance pieces with battles specifically designed to show off a pokemon's beauty and talent."
Page 32
"Sounds like a waste of time," Kiawe mumbled, and it was only Kukui's immediate warning glance
that kept Ash from twisting around again. Instead, he sunk down in his chair and glowered at the
balcony. Kukui watched him warily for a second before continuing as if it hadn't happened.
"Others have suggested that it is due to the region's unique connection to Arceus and the Creation
Trio."
"Arceus?" asked Lana, and Kukui winced. Religion was next semester's problem.
"The short version is that Arceus is believed to have created the Sinnoh region, and some would
argue the entire universe," he said. "The Creation Trio are Palkia, Dialga, and Giratina, who govern
Space, Time, and Dimensions respectively. Due to the far-reaching and adaptable nature of these
pokemon, some researchers believe Sinnoh pokemon trainers are paying respect to their deities by
showcasing the far-reaching and adaptable nature of their pokemon."
"But Contests didn't begin in Sinnoh, right Professor?" asked Lillie. "I read that they began in Hoenn."
"Correct. However, Hoenn believes there is and should be a clear separation between performance
and battle. To the point that they will actively discourage battle trainers from participating in
Contests, and vice versa, whereas Sinnoh will encourage it. This has caused quite a lot of friction
between the two regions in the past," he added with a slight grimace. Burnet had a lot to say about
Hoenn. "Hoenn values a more simplistic style in both battle and performance, preferring beauty or
'cute' style for show, or overwhelming strength through battle." The implications of which he had
heard far too much about. Burnet could rant about—apologies, debate the intricacies of—Hoenn's
pokemon training styles for much too long, in his opinion.
So, before Lana and Mallow could catch wind of that problem, he moved on as quickly as he could.
"Being a more academically-focussed region, Unova is more reliant on theory and strategy. Type
mathematics, abilities, and power levels are deeply analysed in the Unova region, to the point that
one of the most highly regarded careers for a pokemon trainer is the Pokemon Connoisseur. These
trainers are able to identify a pokemon's full statistics from sight, smell, and touch, in addition to
their unique compatibility with specific trainers."
"Whoa," Mallow said, succinctly. "That sounds hard."
"It is. Reportedly, in order to achieve the highest rank of their profession, a Connoisseur will have
over ten years' experience and have studied theory for at least half of that time again. It is a very
difficult profession," he said, and then shrugged. "But outside the Unova region, their techniques are
often seen as lacking, because they don't take into account other factors, such as emotional or
spiritual influence."
From the corner of his eye, he could see Ash was all but ignoring the lecture, still slouched in his
chair and glaring out the window. Which was surprising. Given Ash's experience with the regions
he'd mentioned so far, he'd expected this to at least interest the kid on a personal level.
"Is there a region that does?" asked Lana, and Kukui blinked, jerked back to what he was supposed
to be doing. It took him a second to remember what that was before he could answer.
"Alola, as a matter of fact. We're particularly known for our close relationship with our pokemon,
due to our reliance on our Z-crystals and –moves. They only function, after all, because of our strong
bonds with our pokemon," he pointed out, then shrugged and continued. "This is reflected in our
battle style, which revolves around the use of Z-moves. Timing is key to the Alolan Battle Style. Isn't
that right, Ash?"
At the sound of his name, Ash visibly flinched and looked around, blinking rapidly. "What?"
Not even listening. Great. "As a visitor, what would you say is the biggest difference between Alolan
battle style and that from other regions?"
He stared for a second before answering. "The – the Z-moves?"
Page 33
"And how does that influence our battle style?" he prompted. When Ash just continued staring at
him blankly, he added, "Is there anything you would do differently here to account for people who
can use Z-moves?"
"Uhh…" He furrowed his brow, then shrugged. "I… well, you've gotta time stuff different. Because…
because a Z-move can turn a battle around. But if it doesn't work, then your pokemon might not
have enough strength to keep fighting afterward. So when you use it, you've gotta be sure it's gonna
work."
"You don't even have a Z-crystal," Kiawe snapped, and Ash actually snarled.
"And when you're battling someone who does, then you gotta know how to avoid it or take the hit!"
he snapped back, over Kukui's attempts to interrupt. "So you can come back from it!"
"Which you never bother doing!"
"Because if I did have a Z-crystal, I wouldn't have been in a good place to use it!" he cried.
"Turtonator can keep fighting after using its Z-move, but if Pikachu missed its shot, then you could
fire back a flame thrower and there's no way we'd avoid it!"
Kukui tried again. "Yes, and –"
"You don't have a Z-move to use right now!" Kiawe shouted. "So why not keep fighting without it?"
And again. "Kia-"
"Because if I get a Z-move and I use it straight away like I want to then I'm gonna mess it up!"
"You make no sense!"
"You –!"
"Enough!" Kukui yelled, and lashed his arms out in opposite directions. "Neither of you are welcome
in this class until you calm down! Ash, on the balcony! Kiawe, in the hall! Now!"
"I'm not the one –" Kiawe started, but Kukui just jerked his pointing arm.
"Out!"
He didn't immediately move, before suddenly shoving his chair back and standing up. Ash hadn't
even waited that long, already swinging his backpack over his shoulders.
"Fine." He glanced over at Pikachu, who had been watching this all play out from the corner, along
with Togedemaru, Poppolio and Bounsweet, clustered around the egg and looking highly distressed.
But Ash didn't even have to say anything before Pikachu bounded down and started hurrying over to
him.
"Pika pika?" it asked quietly as it jumped up onto his shoulder, and he shook his head.
"Let's go, buddy."
Both boys stalked out, and Kukui took a calming breath before turning back to the rest of the class.
"And that is why we have these lessons," he said evenly. "Not explaining your methodologies as a
trainer can cause others to assume things about what you're doing. For example, I suspect Ash is
trying to train himself to adapt to the Alolan Battle Style. However, Kiawe is assuming their battles
are about training pokemon. So his refusal to finish a battle after he deems himself to have failed it
makes it seem like he is 'taking it easy' on Kiawe."
The remaining students exchanged nervous glances, which he could understand. He didn't think he'd
ever yelled at this class before. Eventually, Mallow raised her hand.
"Why wouldn't Ash just say that's what he's doing?"
Because Ash never explained anything, Kukui thought irritably, but as far as his students were
concerned, his main response was a philosophical shrug. "His methodology is a little unorthodox,
and wouldn't make sense to most people."
Lana raised her hand next. "Is that a Kanto thing?"
"No," he said with an unamused laugh, then sighed again. "The Kanto style is extremely blunt. They
value efficiency over anything else, which means that they train pokemon to be very good at one
thing and one thing only, be it attack, defence, or strategy. They stick to type strengths. Pikachu is
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actually an excellent example of this, though a more traditional Kanto trainer would have evolved
Pikachu into a raichu early on, and changed their strategy immediately."
"Changed their strategy?" asked Mallow, and he nodded, trying to hide his impatience. He wanted to
get this lecture finished so he could go and deal with Ash and Kiawe, but his well-behaved students
needed to be his priority.
"Raichu are slower, but much more powerful. As a species, pikachu are very fast, relying on their
ability to hit hard in short bursts while avoiding attacks. A typical Kanto trainer would prioritise
power first, as it requires less finesse. However, while Ash hasn't evolved Pikachu, he has otherwise
trained it in a very Kantonese fashion by playing to its strengths. If you remember the first battle we
saw him take part in, his first move was Quick Attack, followed by a Thunderbolt. Speed, and then
power."
"But you said Ash doesn't use Kanto style," noted Sophocles. "So what does he use?"
"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I honestly haven't seen him battle enough to identify it, and as I
mentioned, I think he's trying to adapt, which in these initial stages would pollute his style
considerably. Perhaps once he and Kiawe have calmed down, we can discuss it with him. But, in the
meantime, I want you all to read up on the varying battle styles," he said, picking up their textbooks
and moving over to hand them out. "Pages one-sixty-two through one-eighty."
Once they had the books open, Kukui waited a few seconds to make sure they were at least making
a good show of pretending to be engaged before heading out to the hallway, where Kiawe was
leaning against the wall in a very well put-together sulk. So well put together that it was positively
screaming about how forced it was. So Kukui just folded his arms, leaned against the wall sideways,
and waited.
In typical fashion, Kiawe did not disappoint. "Do you really think that's what it is? The training
himself thing?"
"I do," he said.
"Then he should've said so," Kiawe snapped, and Kukui bit back a smile. He'd been far worse than
either of them when he was their age.
"He could stand to explain himself more, yes," he agreed, then tilted his head and noted, "You're still
angry."
"Of course I am!" he snapped. "He should have said that was what he was doing! He made me
think…! He treats everything like it's a game! Like all of this is for fun, like pokemon are just kids
playing games. Tapu Koko chose him, gave him that Z-ring and taught him how to use a Z-move, and
he just shrugs it off like it doesn't matter!" he cried, clenching both teeth and fists. "That Gigavolt
Havoc was so powerful, and from that little tiny pikachu. I expected to battle that! When I didn't… I
thought he was toying with me! And all along, he was doing something completely different! He
made me look like an idiot!"
"I doubt Ash saw it that way, Kiawe," Kukui said calmly. "I think it says a lot that he trusts you to help
him train, rather than just practice battle techniques. He respects you and Turtonator."
Kiawe scoffed, and Kukui hesitated. He normally tried to keep his and Ash's home and school lives
separate, but…
"He often mentions you at home, talking about your strength, and the bond you have with
Turtonator," he said. Kiawe glanced up, and he smiled. "Really. He's learning a lot from the way you
battle."
"That's what he says, but…" Kiawe struggled to hold on to his anger. "Just how strong is Pikachu? I
can't even tell when he won't battle me properly."
"Does it matter?"
"Yes!" he insisted, only to stop and shake his head. "No, of course not. It…!"
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"If you knew, according to stats and levels, that Pikachu was stronger than Turtonator, would you
still battle it?" he asked, thinking of those scientific trainers Ash had once confessed to beating up
on. "What about if you knew it was weaker?"
Kiawe started to argue, but then paused and pulled back with a grimace. He huffed irritably. "I guess
it wouldn't matter. It doesn't necessarily change anything, and you can learn from every battle, win
or lose."
"That's right. And speaking of which… are you ready to go back and learn from my class?"
"Yeah… sorry, Professor."
"Apology accepted. But I wasn't the only one you disrespected," he reminded him. "You disrupted
your classmates' learning."
"Right," he said. "I'll… I'll apologise to them, too."
"Good. Now, I'm going to talk to Ash. Once class is over, I expect you to do the same. Understand?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Good. I left a textbook on your desk. Start on page one-sixty-two." He walked Kiawe back in, paused
long enough for the others to make another good show of being focussed, and then carried on out
to the balcony.
The decidedly empty balcony.
Kukui closed his eyes for a moment, worked his jaw, and then slammed his fist into the railing.
"Damn it."
As far as the class was concerned, Ash had gone for a walk to cool his head and think about how his
actions impacted others. Kukui, however, grew increasingly concerned as the day continued and Ash
didn't reappear. As soon as class was over, he hurried down the hall to Principal Oak's office,
knocking twice but not bothering to wait before opening the door.
"Don't worry, Ash, Rotom –" Samson stopped, and then blinked. He was sitting at his desk with
Rotom hovering over his shoulder, both of them having apparently been focussed on the Kanto egg
in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at Kukui. "Professor Kukui. Is something wrong?"
"Uh, not necessarily," he said slowly, shutting the door behind him. "Has Ash been by today?"
"Not since the two of you dropped off Rotom this morning," he said.
Rotom beeped. "I last saw Ash during the lunch break, when he and Kiawe battled. I calculated that
Ash's timing has improved by zero point two seven percent, while Turtonator's flamethrower is
continuing its heat increase by an average of zero point zero eight percent per battle!"
Despite himself, Kukui took a moment to appreciate that – it was his field of expertise after all. But
he snapped out of it as Samson's look became increasingly pointed.
"Professor Kukui, why are you asking about the whereabouts of one of your students?" he asked.
"Class only ended a few minutes ago."
"Yyyyes…" he said slowly, debating responses. On the one hand, Ash was (technically – in his home
region at least) a legal adult who was perfectly within his rights to go wherever and do whatever he
liked. On the other hand… he was a kid, Kukui's boarder, and more importantly, his student. During
the school day, Kukui should have known where he was.
"Kukui…?"
"I sent him out of class for arguing with Kiawe," he explained. "I told him to go to the balcony. He…
kept going."
Samson closed his eyes with a weary sigh while Rotom beeped rapidly.
"Ash left without me?!" it cried. "But I am supposed to go everywhere with him! How will he know
what to do without my guidance and information? What if he meets a new pokemon and I am not
able to document it? What –"
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Samson calmly reached up, put his hand on the back of Rotom's casing, and then shoved it into the
desk. He then levelled Kukui with a blunt look. "This is what we were talking about with your
classroom management, Professor. You need to learn how to handle things like this better."
"I know, I know," he said, pushing up his glasses to rub at his eyes. "It's just Ash! He's…!"
"Blaming your students, are you?" he asked mildly.
Which in its own way was even more pointed than his look, so Kukui sighed and didn't bother
responding. "Are you finished with RotomDex?"
He wordlessly released it, and it jerked back up into the air with an indignant squeal.
"Thank you. Alright, Rotom," Kukui said, setting his hands on his hips. "You spend the most time with
him. Where does Ash go when he needs a good sulk?"
Rotom just stared at him blankly. "Insufficient data. Sulk?"
"Uhh… be upset. Angry at the world."
"Insufficient data," it repeated. "I have not yet seen this event."
"Neither have I," he said, and then sighed again. "What about thinking? Is there somewhere special
he –"
"Existing data shows a seven percent probability toward extensive thinking. In other words: he
doesn't do that," Rotom replied bluntly, and Kukui noticed Samson hiding a grin. He rolled his eyes
and turned back to the door.
"Well, then I guess we're doing this the old fashioned way. Come on, Rotom."
He wasn't in the market, or on the beach, or the Pokemon Centre. Even when there was an
explosion—usually a good sign of a pokemon battle or training—he followed it to find a couple of
senior students practicing, but no Ash. Rotom became increasingly distressed, calculating
increasingly low odds of them ever being able to find Ash (for a computer, it certainly had a flair for
the dramatic – the academic part of Kukui wondered if perhaps it was its more simplistic pokemon
mind overriding the data, while his more human side panicked right along with it), but Kukui made a
point of keeping calm and quiet.
Worst case scenario, he decided, Ash would probably come home when he was hungry.
"Given Ash's personal finances and habitual spending, that is at a lower rate of probability than him
simply buying food," Rotom argued as they started heading back to the house. "My models prove
that he is likely to stay away. He will buy dinner from the market, and then fall asleep on the beach,
and then the tide will come in, and then he will be accidentally eaten by a wailord!"
Despite himself, Kukui stumbled to a halt and slowly turned his head to stare. "…what?"
"It has a statistical chance of happening."
And that fact alone could have been worth discussing even if Ash hadn't been missing, until Kukui
remembered he was talking to either a pokemon or a computer, and decided he wasn't that far gone
yet. He moved on.
Besides, as his house came into sight, silhouetted against the setting sun, he realised they'd both
been panicking for no reason. There was an added outline of a boy and pikachu sitting on the roof.
Annoyance—both at himself for overreacting and Ash for this whole experience—surged, but he
pushed it down as he continued on, focussing on how he should approach the oncoming
conversation instead.
As a teacher, he needed to explain that a student couldn't just leave the school grounds whenever
they felt like it. As a guardian, he needed to explain that Ash couldn't just take off like that without
telling anyone what he was doing. As both, he needed to point out how the whole event had been
unacceptable, rude, and disrespectful to himself, Kiawe, and the whole class.
And as… something else, he needed to ask if Ash was okay, and why the whole thing had clearly
upset him.
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But he wasn't given a chance to decide on anything, because he hadn't even stepped foot in the yard
when Rotom suddenly shot past him to fly up into Ash's face.
"You left without me!" it yelled, and Ash jerked back while Pikachu yelped and nearly fell off the
roof. Rotom ignored both reactions, instead furiously thrusting a wing into the narrow space
between itself and Ash's nose. "This is not acceptable! I am travelling with you so that you may
properly document pokemon, analyse battle strategies, and learn how to become a competent
trainer! I went with Principal Oak so that you could better focus on your studies, on the condition
that you retrieved me prior to leaving school grounds! What if I had gotten lost? What if I had been
stolen? What if you had encountered a new pokemon and been unable to battle it without my
superior knowledge and advice? You are my responsibility, but I too am yours! This was irresponsible
and childish! This—"
Seeing that both Ash and Pikachu were utterly transfixed by Rotom's onslaught, Kukui took the
opportunity to duck inside the house and clamber up into the loft. As he'd suspected, the skylight
was propped open, providing easy access to the roof. He hitched himself up and out, amused to find
Rotom still ranting as he carefully picked his way over to take a seat beside Ash.
"—you are not the only one who matters! I am your important companion and voice of reason! I am
your insight into the Alola region! I am –"
"You are making excellent points, Rotom," Kukui interrupted. "But I think I'll take it from here."
"I am not finished!"
"Yes, you are," he said firmly, and Rotom paused a moment, furious emoji turned on him for several
seconds, before it flew up and over their heads.
"I am going to put myself on charge. I will continue this when I have a full battery!" it announced
furiously, and then zipped down and into the house through the skylight. Kukui rolled his eyes and
turned his attention onto Ash, who remained completely still for a few more seconds in clear shock.
But eventually, his eyes slipped to the side, and he slowly turned his head to meet Kukui's gaze. He
paused, then grimaced and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Sorry about what happened in
class. I guess I let my temper run away with me again."
He hummed, acknowledging the apology but not accepting it yet. "When I told you to go out on the
balcony, I expected you to stay there. You can't just leave campus without telling anyone, Ash. That's
not how school works."
"Sorry," he said again, but this time he didn't sound even remotely apologetic. "I wanted to be by
myself for a while."
Kukui frowned. "Even so. Don't do it again. Not without telling me."
He just looked away, and Kukui pressed his lips together in annoyance. "Ash."
"Is Kiawe still mad?" he asked, obviously choosing to ignore him, and Kukui took a deep breath to
avoid getting angry.
Kid or not, Ash was a legal adult. He didn't have to do anything. He could drop out and go back to
Kanto tomorrow and no one could stop him. He was only living with Kukui because it had been
offered – he'd been more than prepared to sleep under a tree for a year if he had to. And as the
weeks turned into months, it was becoming more and more obvious that Ash was getting less out of
school than he was from just living in Alola itself. He had a lot of other options if Kukui pushed him
the wrong way.
So he decided to let the sleeping snorlax lie, but made no attempt to hide his annoyed expression.
"Kiawe calmed down after I explained that you've been trying to learn how to adapt to Z-move
timing," he said evenly. "You should have told him that earlier, when he first got angry."
"Why should I?" he snapped. "He didn't tell me anything. He just got mad and started accusing me of
holding back."
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"You called a battle to an end when you didn't seem to be losing, Ash," he pointed out. "How would
you react if someone did that to you?"
"I'd ask how come!" he cried. "I'd say we weren't done yet! He didn't, so I figured he got it! It's not
like this is the first time we'd done this!"
"And I admire your dedication, but you have to understand that not everyone has your background,"
he argued. "Most of the students at school aren't battlers, and the little battling they've done has
been against other casual battlers. They do it for fun. Kiawe probably thought you were calling it for
other reasons until he noticed you kept doing it."
"I battle for fun too! I have loads of fun battling Kiawe!" he said, and Kukui gave him a blunt look.
"You battled him to train."
"Only partly!" he objected. "It's not like real training. Right, Pikachu?"
Pikachu almost sounded amused at the idea. "Pika!"
"I just need to get the timing right," Ash continued, looking back out at the ocean. "Next time we see
Tapu Koko, we're going to give it a real battle. And if I'm gonna do that, I need to be able to match
anything it dishes out. I need to get this right."
Kukui narrowed his eyes, immediately confused. "Ash, pokemon need a trainer to use Z-moves. Tapu
Koko wouldn't have them."
"Yeah, but…" He paused, as if seeing the flaw in his argument but somehow unable to get around it
in his own head. "Tapu Koko… Tapu Koko wants me to use them. That's why it gave me the ring, and
taught me what it did. So I've gotta get it right."
Kukui grimaced, but there wasn't really much of an argument he could make when Ash was clearly
operating illogically. There would be no point. He took off his glasses to rub at his eyes. "Alright, fine.
But next time you decide to practice something specific with someone, let the other person know
beforehand, alright? You know Kiawe well enough by now to know he takes this all very seriously – a
misunderstanding like this could end a lot worse than it did today."
"He takes it too seriously, if you ask me," he muttered, and Kukui rolled his eyes.
"While normally I would agree with you, I have to remind you, Ash," he said impatiently, "You were
challenged by the Guardian Deity of Melemele Island. When Kiawe challenges you, he is doing the
same thing as a god has done. A lot of people would take that a little more seriously than your
average battle."
"It never bothered anyone before," he said grumpily.
"And how," he asked, "would anyone have known you were going to be challenged by the Guardian
of an island you'd never been to?"
"That's –" Ash cut himself off, just scowling for a few seconds, before he abruptly shook his head.
"Forget it."
For a moment, they sat in silence, Kukui watching Ash watch the sunset. He didn't seem interested in
continuing the argument, and Kukui had to admit he wasn't exactly motivated to do so either.
Sometimes things like this happened, and you could either obsess over them or move beyond them.
He looked back out across the ocean as well, letting the calming sounds of the wind and tide eat
away at his frustration. He hadn't really handled any of this that well himself.
"It's a late start to the school day tomorrow," he found himself saying, apropos of nothing much at
all. Maybe he should take Ash to meet Hala in the morning. See what the kahuna had to say about it
all.
"Maybe I should get some real training in beforehand," Ash said quietly, making Kukui glance at him
and Pikachu groan.
"Pi-ika chu…"
Page 39
He chuckled quietly and shifted to pet its head. "Hey, it stopped being a vacation for me ages ago!
Besides, weren't you the one getting all excited about battling the other day? It's about time we got
back into shape!"
"Pikapika," it grumbled.
Kukui hesitated, then shrugged to himself and stood up. There was no point in staying upset. "Well,
in the meantime, let's go get dinner ready. It's been a long day for all of us."
But even as they climbed back down and into the house, Ash's words echoed in his mind, and he
found himself remembering Kiawe's frustrated question from earlier. Not that it should have
affected whether someone would engage in a friendly battle with them, but…
If Ash and Pikachu could already effortlessly defeat Team Skull, score a hit on Tapu Koko, and keep
easy pace with Kiawe and Turtonator's Z-move…
Just how strong would they be when they were 'in shape'?
Lesson Four: Emotional management
Originally, since Ash had won his Grand Trial and regained the Electrium-Z, Kukui had planned to
spend his weekend helping the kid train. He'd been all geared up to do it, too – he wanted to see
Ash's style, and maybe even finally get a handle on just how talented he was under all the
hyperactivity.
But then Kiawe had showed up and, despite the fact that they'd been at each other's throats only a
few days beforehand, Ash was immediately distracted. A new island to explore, new pokemon to
see, and ice cream besides? Apparently training just couldn't possibly compete with that.
So Kukui had resigned himself to another boring day at the lab, until he remembered that chances
were pretty good at least some of his colleagues would be at work. They were Pokemon Scientists –
very few of them had lives to speak of.
He smirked and grabbed yesterday's newspaper on his way out the door.
"Morning, Kukui," Artocarpus was, typically, the first one to greet him as he walked in. "Didn't expect
to see you today, after all that whining you did last time you came in on a weekend."
"Oh, leave him alone, Arty," Cassia said, rolling her chair back so she could see him around the desk
partition. "None of us like working weekends, and he has a family now."
"I don't have a family," Kukui said. "I have a boarder. But he's spending the weekend at a friend's, so
I'm free to get some actual research done."
The third and last member of their team actually present peered over the top of her computer with
a raised eyebrow. "Judging from your expression, I don't feel like research is what you have in mind."
"Well… I'll get to it," he said defensively, and then grinned and flourished the newspaper. "But first,
did anyone happen to see yesterday's news, by any chance?"
"Oh, now it makes sense," Acacia said with a soft chuckle. "Kukui, did you really come into work just
so you can brag?"
"It's not bragging," he said. "I simply think, as a research team dedicated to understanding pokemon
battle, my colleagues should be fully apprised of the fact that my newest student defeated the
Totem Pokemon of Melemele Island with a pikachu and only recently caught rowlet. And then
directed said Totem Pokemon to single-handedly solve the Rattata Crisis –"
"He's right; it's not bragging," Artocarpus deadpanned. "He came in to gloat."
Kukui's grin only broadened as he moved over to slap the newspaper down on Artocarpus's desk.
"And just yesterday, he won his Grand Trial without losing a single pokemon to Hala's two. Despite a
Belly Drum-powered All Out Pummelling Z-move, and using a normal-type Z-move himself with that
same pikachu."
"Kukui," Acacia said, "If this boarder of yours isn't family, you don't get the right to play the proud
papa. It's obnoxious."
"How about the smug teacher?" he asked playfully. "He learned that Z-move from me, after all."
Page 40
Cassia laughed while the other two rolled their eyes. "Well, then he has my congratulations. You just
get told to be quiet."
"After you tell us about the Grand Trial," Acacia corrected. "Keeping the bragging to a minimum, if
you please. So your boarder used a pikachu. I'm going to guess that the Kahuna used… Riolu?"
"Crabrawler and Hariyama, actually," he said, smile fading slightly at the memory.
All three of them did a double-take, their attention caught. "Hariyama?"
He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I was a little surprised myself. I would've called it overkill if Ash hadn't
stepped up to the challenge," he said, but then shrugged. "But he's no rookie. He's trained over two-
dozen pokemon and been in a handful of leagues. It still seems a little extreme against a kid with a
rowlet, but he won, so there you are."
"So did he just use the pikachu?" asked Artocarpus.
"No, he started with Rowlet," he corrected. "It went to sleep after the battle though, so he switched
to Pikachu for Hariyama."
"Well, that at least makes a little bit of sense," Cassia said. "It's an experienced battler, right?"
"Still, that Crabrawler isn't a joke," Acacia pointed out. "Your boarder hasn't been on the island for
very long, right? How long has he had this rowlet for?"
"About… five weeks?" he guessed, and then blinked, realising it was four. He felt like Ash had been
living with him for months, but it had actually been less than one. He scratched the back of his neck,
feeling strangely awkward about the realisation.
Cassia frowned thoughtfully. "What's his name again? Ash Katter?"
"Ketchum," Artocarpus corrected, checking the newspaper.
"Call me crazy," she said, "but is he the one that always shows up in the Key Trainer section of
research articles? I'm almost positive he's the one with the bulbasaur Oak always references as his
ranch leader."
They all fell silent for a second, trying to remember, before Acacia rolled back to her desk and typed
in a search query to check. Her eyebrows rose in mild interest. "Look at that. Ketchum. In one, two,
three… seven of Oak's recent papers, two of Rowan's, one of Elm's, and… Ivy. Must've been
slumming it with that one."
Kukui blinked, then pushed off Artocarpus's desk to hurry over and look over her shoulder. "Really?"
"Oh, and look here, he's referenced in Gary Oak's paper too," Cassia said, pointing out a minor paper
at the bottom of the list. "Seems you have a proper research assistant in your house, Kukui."
"Do they say why he's a Key Trainer?" Kukui asked, scanning the search results. Acacia slapped his
hand away from her screen and clicked one of the links to bring up the page in question, but it didn't
provide much extra information. "Key Trainer Ash Ketchum, re: Bulbasaur, Tauros (herd)… it just
looks like he's the trainer of Oak's research subjects."
"Still, he gets around, huh?" Cassia said mildly. "Those are some big names. Do you even know what
I would do to be mentioned in one of Rowan's research papers?"
"Nothing I'd say in polite company," Artocarpus drawled, and she mimed throwing something at him
in retaliation. Artocarpus snickered but otherwise left it there, while Acacia turned her own smirk on
Kukui.
"And now he's slumming it again," she teased. "Such a step down."
"Hey, at least I can get myself a research assistant. Who was your last Key Trainer?" he deadpanned,
and she laughed before going back to the search results.
"In all seriousness, though, they're not just big names. Elm's paper is that one he did about the G.S.
ball—"
"The premier example of a failed research experiment," Artocarpus joked. "Exciting!"
"—both of these Rowan papers are from that year when he was the golden child, talking about
dimensional breaches and the Creation Trio. Even Ivy's is her biggest paper, that one about the
Page 41
Legendary Birds," she said, pointing to it. "Either he's the biggest good luck charm on the planet, or
he really knows how to pick 'em. So what's your amazing paper going to be this year, Kukui?"
He grunted, both because it wasn't that funny and also because he was preoccupied reading dates.
With the exception of Oak, whose papers came out relatively regularly, it seemed like Ash had only
been helping professors for the first few years of his journey. But when he thought about it, that
made sense – Rowan's final paper in that incredible year he'd had was almost entirely theoretical
and positively smacked of League censorship. It had kind of been a turning point for a lot of
Pokemon Professors, with a significant decrease in using active trainers, since that gave the League
an excuse to meddle in their research.
"Well, I'm officially not surprised he could keep up with Hariyama," Cassia said. "Real Pokemon
Professors don't waste special mentions on mediocre trainers' pokemon. He'd have to have some
ability."
Kukui blinked and frowned at her. "What do you mean 'real' Pokemon Professors?"
"She's right. Elm's a bit of a soft touch, but from what I hear, Rowan and Oak keep their
responsibilities as Pokemon Professors pretty separate from their research papers," Artocarpus
pointed out. "We still don't want to hear your bragging, but it sounds like your boarder is a little
more interesting than we first thought. Well done."
Still caught on the implication that he wasn't a real Pokemon Professor, it took Kukui a moment to
respond. When he did, he wasn't any less offended. "You didn't get that when I told you how he led
the Totem Gumshoos into battle with over a hundred rattata?"
"Yeah, but that could've just been Proud Papa Kukui talking," he said with a nasty grin. "This is
documented evidence."
"I am not a 'proud papa', he's my student," he corrected. "And if that's what you call a lack of
evidence, I am never asking you to peer review my work again."
"Ooh!" Cassia said, lifting her head. "Does that mean if I call you 'Proud Papa Kukui' I don't ever have
to read your work again? All those in favour of a new nickname for the Proud Papa?"
"Yeah, okay, funny, I'm going to get some work done now," he said, but while his colleagues
smirked, he gave the search results one last thoughtful glance before heading into the training room.
He'd have to give those papers another look sometime.
The papers were interesting—there was a reason they'd been some of the biggest ones released in
recent years—but not particularly enlightening. He'd read them all before, and it wasn't like they
expressly referenced Ash or gave any insight into how he spent his time. For all Kukui could tell, Ash
hadn't done anything for any of the professors except provide some pokemon for them to look at
while they wrote some of the defining papers of the last decade.
If he read between the lines, however, he could perhaps see something in Professor Oak's work. The
man studied the relationships between people and pokemon, and Kukui knew enough about Ash's
team to know that when he mentioned a trainer and his bulbasaur, it was pretty easy to guess who
he was talking about. Nothing earth-shattering, but still enough to add to the mystery that was Ash
Ketchum.
"Your pokemon greet you by attacking you?" he asked Ash one morning, and the boy actually
stopped scarfing cereal for a second to stare at him.
"Huh?"
He flicked his device to show what he was reading. "This is one of Professor Oak's research papers,
and I think he's talking about you here. Are you the trainer whose pokemon will always greet him by
showing off their weakest attack with a personal demonstration?"
"Oh! Yeah," he said, and went back to his cereal. "I didn't know I was in any of those. That's so cool
of him."
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Kukui waited pointlessly for a moment before prompting, "Why do your pokemon greet you like
that?"
"Hm? Oh, well, if it's their weakest attack then it's the best way for me to know the least they can
do. So, you know, it tells me what they've learned while I've been away," he said around a mouthful.
Kukui waited again, but apparently Ash considered that to be the only explanation needed. He
looked back down at the paper, to where Oak was detailing it as a sign of trust and affection
between the trainer and pokemon.
He decided he was perfectly okay with not feeling that level of trust with his pokemon.
Other articles were less confusing, but perhaps, if he was reading between the lines correctly,
slightly more concerning. Like the one that discussed the concept of blaming a trainer for a
pokemon's personality faults. It talked about trainers that raised their pokemon with love and
affection only to be bitten when the pokemon evolved into a new and more aggressive personality.
When that was just metaphorical, Oak pointed out, the general consensus was that such a concept
was fine – a firm hand and strict training could usually bring a pokemon back into line. But when it
was literal, were they actually telling a traumatised child that their pain was their own fault? It was
an accepted practice (in Kanto and Johto, Kukui reminded himself – it became increasingly less
common the further west you went) but what kind of impact would that have on a developing mind?
The emotional growth of a young pokemon trainer was apparently something Oak had been very
concerned with a few years ago, belying the careless attitude he'd shown Kukui through their phone
calls. He'd worried over the emphasis on rivalries that the league promoted, and the harsh letdown
that inevitably came when beginning pokemon trainers—who often showed great promise and skill
—either failed to make it to the league or were knocked out in the beginning stages. One of the
papers Kukui could actually remember ignoring was an essay that mulled over the theory that a
trainer should never let their pokemon see them scared, because it led to some trainers developing
the habit with people too.
Reading it now, he thought of Lillie. Not because she didn't show her fears—you'd have to be blind,
deaf, and completely inattentive to miss that—but because she always insisted she wasn't scared.
That it was all in her head and she'd be fine if she chose to feel otherwise.
There were probably a lot of people who would agree with her, he realised.
Days later, when their extra-curricular lesson was brought to a screeching halt by Ash sprinting onto
the scene with a poisoned Rowlet and a curiously mild look of concern, he found himself thinking of
the paper again. Especially when Rowlet was cured, and Ash immediately cheered up, looking for all
the world like he'd never known any problems at all.
At least, he did until everyone else had gone home and he was helping Kukui gather their supplies.
He kept his voice perfectly light and cheerful, almost absent, as he said, "I'm going to skip dinner
tonight, okay?"
Kukui dropped the chair he'd just finished folding. "You what? Ash, are you feeling alright?"
"Of course!" he said with a quick grin. "But I want to take Rowlet and Pikachu to the Pokemon
Centre."
"That is a wise course of action," Rotom advised, sounding a lot more concerned than Ash did. "You
should have done so much earlier."
Ash just glanced at it, while Kukui frowned. "Rotom, we cured Rowlet's poisoning. You don't need to
go to the Pokemon Centre for every little scratch."
"This is not just a scratch!" it insisted. "I calculated Rowlet's damage percentile to be over eighty-
five, while Pikachu suffered sixty-two percent!"
"What?" he asked, turning back to Ash. "What happened?"
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"It was no big deal!" he said, but Kukui noticed his eyes had wandered off to the side, and his lips
were twitching around his grin. "We just ran into Team Rocket. It was a tough battle, but we made it
through. It gave us a lot to think about, right guys?"
"Pikachu," Pikachu said, almost sounding embarrassed, while Rowlet crooned sleepily.
"But now we have some time, I'd like to get everyone checked out," Ash continued. "I don't know
how busy it'll be at the Pokemon Centre, but I wouldn't want to keep you waiting. So –"
"Don't worry about that, Ash, I'll come with you," he said. When Ash looked hesitant, he gestured
vaguely toward Rockruff. "I should probably get this one checked out, anyway. It might be wild but it
could probably still do with a Refresh! I'll buy us dinner while we wait."
Surprisingly, Ash still didn't look thrilled with the idea, but he didn't argue either, and they finished
packing everything up and dragging it back to the house in relative silence. Now that he was looking,
Kukui could see that Ash's shoulders were stiff—sitting slightly higher than usual—and his smile was
a little fixed. But with everything considered, Kukui could guess why, and so kept quiet.
At the Pokemon Centre, however, he made his move by suggesting Rotom observe Nurse Joy. "I
think it would find it extremely beneficial to experience some of your scans up close and personal,"
he added to her meaningfully, and she blinked for a second before catching on.
"Oh, of course! I'd be delighted to—" She winked at Kukui and Ash. "—let you experience one of our
health scans, RotomDex! Please, come this way!"
Ash stared as she and the four pokemon disappeared into the back, then raised an eyebrow at Kukui.
"What was that about?"
He shrugged lazily. "Some Rotoms don't adapt to possessing a pokedex as well as others. Ours seems
well enough, but it doesn't hurt to get a professional opinion every now and then. Besides, I wanted
to talk to you."
"Without Rotom?" he asked, and Kukui nodded, raising his own eyebrow when Ash immediately
began to look wary. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, swinging his arms against his
sides as he asked, "Um… what about?"
"Just what happened today," he said, and then flicked a hand at the dining area. "Come on, let's get
some dinner. Grab us a table while I order."
By the time he got back, Ash seemed to have worked himself up into a mild panic, sitting ramrod
straight in his chair and fiddling with his fingers. Jaw clenched and eyes wide, he watched as Kukui
sat down, waited two more seconds, and then exploded.
"Rowlet and Pikachu were okay, I swear, I know how many hits they can take, and I knew they would
be okay as long as we didn't get into any more battles. It was just that I knew Lillie and Mallow would
freak out if I left the class and with the poisoning cured it was just bruising, so I knew they'd be okay
if we left it for a while. I swear if it had been anything bad I would have come straight here, it's just
that I knew they were mostly okay and I didn't want to make it worse by stressing people out and –"
"Stop!" Kukui cried, and Ash's jaw clicked shut. He raised his eyebrows, waiting to make sure that
the tide had ebbed for the moment, and then said, "I understand all that, Ash. I've been on a
pokemon journey too, remember. I don't think you're cruel for holding off on healing your
pokemon."
He blinked rapidly for a few seconds, then relaxed. "So… that's not what you wanted to talk to me
about?"
"No. It's fine. I'm more worried about you," he said, and Ash blinked again.
"Me? I didn't get hurt."
"No. Well…" he added thoughtfully, "There's a training theory I've been thinking about a lot lately – I
wanted to run it past you, see if you knew it."
"Uh… okay?"
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"It says that part of the emotional connection between a pokemon and trainer is that if a trainer is
worried or panicked, a pokemon can't be expected to perform to the best of their ability," he said
slowly, watching for a reaction. "So a good trainer never lets their pokemon see them scared."
Ash didn't relax, but he did sit back a little in his chair with an understanding smile. "Of course! I'm
not always great at it though – dead ghosts freak me out," he admitted, and Kukui stalled for a
second, trying not to get distracted by the casual way Ash had just referred to actual ghosts. At least
that's what he assumed Ash meant by 'dead' ghosts. He seemed to think they were real… real
enough to be a common encounter. And… what?
No. No, he was not getting distracted. He fixed Ash with a firm look. "So you do try and hide how
you're feeling."
"I don't know if I'd put it like that," he said. "But it's definitely important that pokemon never think
they're facing something they can't beat. And part of having a trainer is having someone to look to
for direction when you don't know what to do. So it'd be pretty bad if their trainer looked like they
thought something was hopeless, right?"
Kukui tapped his fingers against the table a few times, considering Ash's expression. He seemed
comfortable enough, but his eyes kept drifting off to the side. He let it go for a minute before
prompting, "Or if they looked like they'd really screwed up?"
Ash's smile slipped a bit, and he looked down at the table. "Sure. I mean, if you looked like that, then
the pokemon might think it was their fault things had gone wrong. Especially a new pokemon, who's
not used to battling, or…"
"Or a pokemon like Rotom?"
He shrugged again. "Well, in that case it's more that it's got no real experience with stuff, so it might
start to think something like poisoning is dangerous enough to bench you for good. And it's not. I
mean, once the poisoning is cured, you just gotta get back up and learn how to avoid it for next
time." He was still technically smiling, but his eyes, not quite hidden by the bill of his cap, were
growing darker with each word. "Because there will be a next time. And you gotta keep going. That's
what being a Pokemon Trainer's all about."
"Maybe," Kukui agreed. "But there's no pokemon here now. So you don't have to hide what you're
thinking."
He didn't answer at first, and when he started to, drawing himself back up with a deep breath and
the beginnings of a grin, Kukui made a point of meeting his eyes with a firm look.
"Ash," he said softly. "Do you think you screwed up today?"
It was almost surprising how well that worked, actually stopping Ash's attempted misdirection in its
tracks. He almost looked shocked by the question, entirely caught off guard by someone wanting a
real answer.
Maybe that was why it took a long time for his expression to fall, and even then, he tried to hide it
by bowing his head again. "Yeah, I did."
Kukui nodded slowly, still watching what he could see of Ash's eyes. They seemed a lot more
trustworthy than his mouth. "How?"
"I've been slacking off too much," he said. He began slowly, but as the words continued, he began
speaking faster and harder. "Pikachu and I haven't been training properly, and I haven't given Rowlet
nearly enough battle experience. And I – I knew how strong that Mimikyu is, and I just didn't…! I
didn't think…!" He clenched his eyes shut, turning his head away like that would block everything
out, even as he continued berating himself. "I saw the mareanie, too. I should've known it would
fight for James, they always do! But I didn't even look until it was too late and – I almost lost. I
almost lost them. I almost…!"
It was… odd. He wasn't quite crying. He was just… clenched. Every muscle tensed, his jaw locked into
a hard line that changed his whole face into something harsh and older. Kukui's arms twitched,
Page 45
wanting to reach out, even as he knew that would be crossing a line. Besides, it had come on so fast.
It was literally less than a minute ago that Ash had been smiling, even if it wasn't real, and now he
looked like…
Even as Kukui watched, the moment seemed to pass as Ash reopened his eyes, sucked in a breath,
and then let it out, visibly forcing himself to relax.
"I screwed up, and I lost. But I can't focus on that. That's not who I am. That's not who I am," he told
himself again, and looked up with a smile that was angry and determined but almost genuine. "I just
gotta start training again. Team Rocket's got a strong team here, so I gotta make sure mine is just as
good. They're not going to win. I'll make sure no one takes Pikachu and the others away from me.
Simple as that."
Kukui hesitated, lines from Professor Oak's essay rolling through his head. Lines about pokemon
trainers being taught from a young age that their emotions could have a negative impact on the
ones who relied on them. About how those trainers adapted by avoiding emotions. How they might
not even notice that they were abandoning their own needs because someone else needed them to
be strong.
Some of them survived. They cut themselves off from the pain by telling themselves it didn't matter.
That was why true Pokemon Masters and Champions often seemed so cold, or disconnected from
the world. But some of them…
He found himself thinking of Guzma, who had been so angry and hurting, but had only been able to
deal with that by getting stronger through pokemon battles. When that hadn't worked, he'd lashed
out at the whole world. And even Kukui had rolled his eyes and told him to grow up. And then he'd
disappeared into Team Skull, and… that was pretty much that.
"So don't worry, Professor," Ash continued, before he could figure out how to respond. "I know
exactly what I did wrong, and I won't make the same mistake again. No more slacking off! It's time
for me to get back to training!"
"Ash…" he said, but almost immediately faltered. He'd screwed up with Guzma because he didn't
know how to recognise the problem – this time he just didn't have the words. "Losing a pokemon
battle isn't… just because you screwed up, that doesn't –"
"Sorry to make you wait!" a voice interrupted, and he flinched. Looking up, he found a tired young
man standing by their table with a tray of food, professionally oblivious to any conversation he may
have interrupted. He presented them with the benign smile of overworked hospitality staff
everywhere and began setting down their meals. "I have two burgers with the lot, an orange juice,
and an extra large coffee with an extra double-shot. You know that stuff'll keep you up for hours
even without a single extra shot," he said, and Ash laughed.
"Professor Kukui doesn't believe in sleep! He just passes out on his books!" he said playfully, before
turning his attention on the burger. "This looks great! Thanks so much!"
The waiter did a double-take at the honest enthusiasm, then smiled properly. "No problem. Just
come up to the counter if you need anything else. Have a good night."
"Thanks, you too!" he said, before grinning broadly and picking up his burger. "Seriously, Professor,
thanks for this. I haven't had a burger in so long! It looks amazing." He took a huge bite and then
practically melted into it. "Mm… it tastes amazing, too!"
Kukui just stared at him quietly for a few seconds. The tense muscles were gone. The anger, the self-
recrimination, the sadness… it was like he'd never known a single bad thought.
And there was merit to it. The cheerful determination, the ability to just accept things and move on,
and decide to do better next time. It was admirable. It was exactly what they all said a pokemon
battle trainer was supposed to do.
And besides, Ash was his student. And even though they lived together, he was just Kukui's boarder.
There were boundaries. He probably had support networks in the other kids, and back home in
Page 46
Kanto. He probably had people he called and whined at and they sympathised and it was all very
healthy. Because as far as Kukui had seen, Ash was a happy, mentally stable (if somewhat odd)
pokemon trainer that connected with people on a deep and emotional level. You couldn't do that
when you were secretly tying yourself up in emotional knots. He was fine.
So he took a sip of his coffee and did the only thing he could. "For the record, Ash?"
"Hm?" he asked around a mouthful of food. "Yeah, Professor?"
"If…" He stopped, and then started again. "If you need help… any kind of help. With training, with…
talking about… things," He inwardly throttled himself, wishing he was better at this. "I'm available.
Alright?"
Again, it seemed to actually stop Ash for a second, even his enthusiastic chewing coming to a halt as
he just stared. He swallowed his mouthful, paused, and then gave a smile that looked a shade too
brittle. "Thanks, Professor. But I should be okay. I'm pretty confident in how I train for battle; I just
need to get back into it, you know?"
"Yeah," he said, and let the kid have this one. "Maybe I'll come down and watch a training session
one day. It's always interesting to see someone else's techniques."
"I know, right? I've learned so much from other people, even when I can't do what they do. Like
Performers, or people who do Pokemon Contests? Some of the stuff they do is so cool, and it gives
you all these ideas! Like combined moves. They do them so well. Have you ever seen a Contest?"
"A couple. It's not really my thing," he admitted, and let Ash carry on.
Maybe it was nothing, or maybe it would come up another day. Either way, he just hoped he would
be ready for it.
He would do better this time.
Lesson Five: Pokemon Trainer
Watching Ash train was, like so many things around the kid, a very interesting experience.
"Okay," he said finally, as he finished driving the last stake into the ground. He'd set up sixteen long
poles in the sand, four of which were short, while all the others were tied with red or blue ribbons.
Pikachu didn't really seem to understand what was happening either, though it had obediently
remained standing on the marker Ash had originally set for it, a field's length away. Ash stepped
back to survey his work, apparently found it acceptable, and then walked back to take up position
behind Pikachu. "It's power and target practice, buddy. Just like old times, only this time they're
made of wood! You remember the old motto?"
Pikachu blinked at him, then at the poles, and then suddenly fell over laughing. Ash grinned and
pointed to the two on the far right. "We're doing single-shot thunderbolts, aiming at the poles that
match the words! That's line one over there, then line two, three, that's the grand finale in the
middle, and then it's four, five, and the two short ones are six. Got it?"
"Pika!" it said, still giggling. It slowly calmed down, and clambered back to its feet, wiping away tears
as it gasped for breath. "Pi- pikapi- pikachu…"
"I do not understand this," Rotom noted, and Kukui slowly nodded.
However, despite their confusion, Pikachu seemed to have found meaning in Ash's instructions.
Once it had fully recovered, it dropped back to all fours and lifted its tail at the ready.
"Pika!" it announced, and Ash immediately spun in place, flinging one arm out to point at nothing in
particular.
"Prepare for trouble!" he yelled, and Pikachu lashed out a thunderbolt, striking the red pole on the
far right dead-centre. Ash smiled slightly. "Make it double! Literally, too!"
The blue pole beside it was next, burning right through the middle to snap it in half.
"Nice job, buddy. Let's get a bit harder this time – surrender now or prepare to fight, fight, fight!"
This time it was the blue pole in the set second from the left.
"To extend our reach to the stars above!"
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Blue yet again, second from the right.

"Wobbuffet!"
Kukui did a double-take, but Pikachu didn't pause, lashing out at the short pole, furthest from the
left. Ash hummed.
"Don't forget the mirror coat, Pikachu. Try it again, only go for the ground in front."
"Pika!" it acknowledged, and sent out another thunderbolt that slammed into the sand in front of
the now-charred pole. Both it and the sand went flying from the impact.
"Better. Now let's pick up the pace. To denounce the evils of truth and love! Jessie!"
Pikachu snapped off two thunderbolts in quick succession, but the second one veered and hit
another blue pole, making both Ash and Pikachu grunt. Pikachu followed it up with a third
thunderbolt that hit a red pole instead, and then spread its legs, panting slightly from the repeated
power drain.
"You okay?" Ash asked warily, but Pikachu just tossed its head with a determined, "Pi-ka!"
"Thunderbolts are not typically used in such a fashion," Rotom said, completely ignored by everyone.
"They require time to charge and aim, even for powerful and fully-evolved electric types!"
But while it had focussed on the attacks, Kukui had begun to notice something about Ash's call-outs.
Team Rocket had a Wobbuffet, didn't they? And he was pretty sure Ash had referred to the woman
as Jessie before…
"Okay, then let's try it again," Ash said, and pointed again. "Meowth, that's right! James! Team
Rocket, blast off at the speed of light!"
Three more rapid-fire thunderbolts, and both trainer and pokemon visibly ground their teeth when
the second one hit an already burned red pole and the third overshot the mark to slam into the sand
behind.
"To unite all peoples within our nation!" Ash called, and Pikachu hit another previously-charred pole,
but Ash seemed satisfied with this one, because he swung his arm up like a Performer calling for the
end of her routine. "Now it's time for the grand finale!"
"Pika! Pi… ka…" It leapt up into the air, curling in on itself so its ears and tail touched for a brief
instant before it suddenly erupted with a frankly terrifying amount of electricity. "Chuuuuu!"
The lightning bolt slammed into the dirt directly in front of the middle four poles, and that was
pretty much all Kukui saw before everything exploded in a wave of sand. Rotom dived down and
under his labcoat, overriding Kukui's startled yelp with its own electronic squeal, while Kukui himself
yanked his arms up in a fruitless attempt to shield himself from a veritable shower of gritty sand. Not
that it mattered – the wave was almost over before they were finished reacting, and so he let his
arms drop, sighed in weary resignation, and looked back up at Ash.
He barely seemed to have noticed the explosion, already looking up and over the water. It took
Kukui a second to follow his gaze and find he was watching four poles gracefully spearing their way
toward Akala Island.
"How…?" Kukui wondered, eyes dropping back down to Ash and Pikachu, but he continued to go
ignored as Ash set a hand on his hip and met Pikachu's look with a wry grin.
"Looks like Team Rocket's blasting off again," he noted, and Pikachu panted out a laugh.
"Pi pikachu!"
"Nice job, buddy," he said, but then tilted his head. "But we have really gotta work on your quick
shots. Remember, we don't always have time to go all out, and there are a lot of pokemon that can
just ignore a Quick Attack."
"Pika," it agreed, and shoved itself up onto its hind legs. "Pika pika pikachu. Pika!"
"Nah, we'll come back to it. I need to find more poles first, and you should recharge a bit," he said,
and then unhooked a pokeball from his back pocket. "Come on out, Rowlet! Let's test out that silent
flying of yours!"
Page 48
"Is it safe to come out yet?" Rotom asked, still hiding in the small of Kukui's back.
He hesitated, watching Ash explain his next training session to the two pokemon. Apparently he was
going to give Pikachu a blind-fold, and make it try to avoid Rowlet's tackles. A hard task, given that
rowlet were known for their ability to move silently, but Pikachu looked determined.
"Safe or not," Kukui said slowly, "I want photos of everything."
Ash had originally been shocked to discover Rockruff was wild, and although he adapted to it coming
and going much more easily than Kukui had expected, he also seemed to quietly think it was only a
matter of time before Kukui caught it. Which was kind of odd, given that he was the one actually
feeding Rockruff these days, and definitely the one Rockruff cuddled up to when it could, and
evidently ignoring the fact that the only reason Rockruff didn't crawl all over him the way it did Kukui
was usually because Pikachu was in the way. So when they discovered Rockruff was trying to learn a
move, Ash looked at Kukui first.
"This is the kind of thing you study, right?" he asked, as Rotom snapped picture after picture of the
magmar soundly defeating yet another pokemon. "How pokemon learn moves and train and stuff?"
"That's right."
"So… you'd be mad if I helped out, huh?"
"Pika?" Pikachu gasped, grinning broadly. "Pika pikachu? Pika?"
Barely glancing at the excited pokemon, Kukui tilted his head toward Ash, one corner of his mouth
lifting. "Helped out?"
"I think I can help Rockruff learn Rock Throw," he said. "If you don't mind."
"Rockruff's wild, Ash," he reminded him. "If you want to work with it, that's your decision."
"Really?" he asked, and pumped his fists. "Alright! Now we just have to ask Rockruff!"
"Pi pikachu!" Pikachu cheered.
He wasn't at all surprised when Rockruff enthusiastically agreed, or even when Ash reassured Rotom
he wasn't doing it out of some twisted scheme to catch it. As much as he loved the little puppy, Ash
seemed mostly oblivious to any returning adoration. He just wanted to help.
Besides, even if Ash had been trying to be sneaky, Kukui still wouldn't have minded, simply because
it gave him ample opportunity to be sneaky too. Ash's training with Pikachu and Rowlet had been
unusual – the way he trained Rockruff was fascinating.
"It's like watching one pokemon train another," he mumbled as he watched Ash physically act out a
responding pounce for Rockruff to mimic. In these sessions, Pikachu wasn't just Ash's constant
companion, but almost like an extension of him, doing everything he did but with a pokemon's size
and power to give a better example. Rockruff's eyes flicked between them both, following Ash for
the concept and then Pikachu for the proof. "The verbal commands and explanations are just an
added bonus."
"This is not how conventional pokemon trainers work," Rotom said imperiously. "The accepted
method to learn Rock Throw is to verbally instruct the pokemon in the correct movements, and then
have them practise them repeatedly. A pokemon has a natural instinct to add power to it, which
humans are not expected to understand. This is—"
"—probably a much more effective method to ensure the pokemon understands," Kukui finished,
putting a hand to his chin. He grinned at Rotom's confused stare. "It's one thing to learn by memory
and rote. Anyone can rattle off a fact if you drum it into them hard enough. But if you teach
someone why something is the way it is, they're a lot more likely to be able to apply it later."
"I do not understand the difference," it said blankly. "Surely if you know the information, then you
can apply it."
"It's the difference between, say, Kiawe and Sophocles," he explained. "Sophocles knows
information about pokemon, and he can rattle it off almost as well as you can. But Kiawe has lived
with pokemon since he was a baby, and understands them in a natural, instinctive way. So Sophocles
Page 49
will outstrip him in every written test, but Kiawe will always get much higher marks in a practical
lesson." He nodded toward the training session. "What Ash is doing is teaching Rockruff to feel its
power and strength, rather than just trying to copy what it's seen in battle. It might not learn Rock
Throw as fast as it would with another trainer, but I'll be damned if it doesn't become a better
battler for it."
"Does not compute," Rotom reported. "Knowing a move is key to defeating opponents in battle."
Kukui smiled and didn't answer, instead turning away. "School is going to be starting soon, so I need
to get going."
"Should I tell Ash it's time to go?" it asked, and he shook his head.
"I think this is a better use of everyone's time today," he said, and started planning a whole new
lesson.
When Kukui walked in and began class without bothering to acknowledge the once-again empty
desk, Mallow was the first to raise her hand and ask, "Is Ash sick today?"
"No, he's not," Kukui said as he stepped into place. "But he won't be joining us for classes for the
foreseeable future."
All five kids blanched, Lillie even slapping her hands over her mouth. "Ash is leaving?!"
"Is he going to challenge the other kahunas?" asked Kiawe. "Is that why he's been training so much
lately?"
"He didn't even say goodbye," murmured Lana, and they all exchanged distressed looks.
Kukui, in turn, stared for a few seconds before realising how they could have misinterpreted what he
said. Then he laughed and shook his head. "No, no, sorry. Should've phrased that better. It's just for
the next few days. He's training Rockruff."
"Training Rockruff?"
"Did he catch it?"
"Ash did say it was wild," Kiawe pointed out, before they all looked back at Kukui. "But even he
thought you were gonna catch it eventually."
"I didn't think Ash'd do something like that," Sophocles added, folding his arms behind his head.
"Kind of a jerk move."
Kukui laughed again. "I'm not going to catch Rockruff. I was just studying it. I'm happy with the team
I have, for now," he said vaguely. And besides, it would have been kind of a jerk move to catch a
pokemon that seemed so set on a different trainer, even if neither of them were acknowledging it.
"And Ash hasn't either, yet. Rockruff is trying to learn Rock Throw, and Ash offered to help it. Which
brings me to our lesson for the next few days: training a pokemon for battle."
"For battle?" Lillie repeated nervously.
"Now, we've all seen a pokemon battle—a lot more recently, thanks to Ash and Kiawe—but we don't
often talk about battle training specifically."
"Is it different from learning moves?" asked Lana, and he shrugged.
"Not for some trainers, but in this case, yes. As he so regularly points out, Ash is trying to become a
Pokemon Master. That means he specialises in battle training, and he seems to have a preference
for attack moves over stasis," he explained. "That means that when he trains pokemon, he trains
them to fight. Now, part of that is obviously using moves, but there's a lot more to it than just that.
Your job, over the next few days, is to figure out what that is."
"You mean like dodging and power levels and stuff?" Sophocles guessed, and Kukui offered up
another vague smile.
"Could be. You need to find Ash and Rockruff, observe their training, analyse it, and then write me a
report. Kiawe, as a fellow battle trainer, I want you to focus on how his training style differs from
others you've seen. The rest of you should be looking into what makes battle training different from
move training," he instructed, then paused and added, "If he asks, you're allowed to help him train,
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but you are not to 'correct' his methods or otherwise interfere. Remember, Rockruff is the one being
trained and you should not disrupt its progress by interrupting Ash's instructions. Understand?"
"Yes," they all chorused.
"Excellent. We'll meet back here in the morning to discuss, but your reports are due on my desk two
days after Ash declares Rockruff to have learned Rock Throw."
Everyone but Lillie—who still looked a little nervous about the whole 'battle' thing—seemed excited
by the impromptu lesson, so Kukui inwardly declared it a success. And a lot more interesting than
the cultural studies he'd originally had planned. No one really liked studying the theory behind
regional training styles, and it had proved such a volatile topic with this class that he'd been doing it
in short, sharp bursts just to keep them on track.
Besides, while he wasn't expecting them to discover anything earth-shattering, it would be a nice
opportunity to get a bunch of more observational data from a variety of perspectives. He wasn't
quite sure yet what the research paper he was gathering information for would be about, but if
opportunities like this kept presenting themselves, it was definitely going to be one of his best.
Maybe there was actually something to that joke about Ash being a researcher's good luck charm!
Then he heard his own thoughts and closed his eyes, shaking his head at himself. "You are such an
academic creeper, Kukui," he muttered, but didn't mind overmuch.
Ash and his three pokemon stumbled into the house a little after sunset, practically inhaled their
waiting dinner, and then slumped down in a corner with the brightly coloured balls Kukui always left
out for pokemon to play with. Or, well, Ash and Rockruff did. Rowlet went upstairs to no doubt fall
asleep in Ash's backpack, while Pikachu waited just long enough for Ash to settle before collapsing
over his leg with a melodramatic, "Pika pikaaaa…!"
Ash ignored it with nothing but a wry smile, instead focussing on making sure Rockruff understood it
was supposed to be trying to catch the ball he was batting between his hands.
Kukui was working on writing out a lesson plan to match the lesson he'd cooked up this morning, but
he paused to watch for a few moments, trying to figure it out. In the end, he had to ask, "Playing or
training?"
"A cool-down," replied Ash. "We've been working pretty hard today, and we'll keep going tomorrow.
Gotta stretch out so Rockruff's not stiff in the morning."
He raised his eyebrows, surprised and impressed. "Most trainers wouldn't bother."
"Yeah, I heard that pokeballs do all that stuff for you, soothing muscles and whatever. I figure that's
why you can usually use a pokemon again right after you've caught it," he pointed out. "Rockruff and
Pikachu don't have that sort of thing. So we've gotta stretch it out."
Making a note on his papers, since that was probably the most comprehensive answer he'd get out
of Ash about what a pokeball did for caught pokemon and therefore a better indicator than their
eventual exam, Kukui glanced at him. "Pikachu doesn't have a pokeball? I didn't know it was wild…
How did you get it to Alola?"
Pikachu paused its attempt to melt over Ash's knee just long enough to laugh. "Pika. Pikapi ka pika
chu pika."
Ash smiled and picked up the ball to keep it out of Rockruff's reach as he used the other hand to
scratch Pikachu's head. "Nah. It has a pokeball in my backpack. But it doesn't like to go inside it," he
explained, then paused and looked up at Kukui. "Huh."
"What?"
"I just… I just realised I hadn't told you that yet," he said slowly. "It's kind of weird. I mean, normally I
have to explain that right away."
Kukui gazed back at him quietly for a few seconds, suddenly reminded that Alola was different than
most of the regions Ash had gone to – here, if a pokemon was small enough, they were generally left
out of their pokeballs at all times. They were part of the family, after all. But in other places, where
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pokemon were more like… well… sentient tools or pets… it was almost considered rude to have
them out of their balls without reason. You could get away with it while walking around or in an
open space like a park or beach, but in a house like this…
Rockruff yipped for Ash's attention, and he blinked before going back to it with a smile. Kukui tried to
sound casual as he said, "This is a pokemon friendly house. As far as I'm concerned, you can have
everyone out of their pokeball. Who knows? They might provide some interesting research data!"
"Like on Professor Oak's ranch!" Ash chuckled. "Thanks, Professor. I bet you won't even notice
Rowlet, since it's always sleeping."
He smiled and refocussed on his work. "Did the others find you today?"
"You mean Kiawe and the others? Yeah, a few hours ago. Kiawe and Turtonator were a—" He cut
himself off with a yawn that quickly extended into an even louder one, ending on a hard blink before
he continued, "—big help. Rockruff didn't really get the whole dodging thing."
"Hm?" he prompted vaguely.
"I think it's because of the um… is it the Midnight forme?" he asked Rotom, who had been hovering
over Kukui's shoulder but swung around to acknowledge Ash's attention.
"You mean this one?"
"Yeah. That lycanroc uses Counter, so it doesn't dodge a lot. But since it had been watching them to
learn moves, I don't think Rockruff understood that until you're actually supposed to avoid getting
hurt," he said, and Kukui raised his eyebrows.
"That makes a lot of sense – I hadn't thought of that," he said, and noted it down as a discussion
point for the other kids. "Of course Rockruff wouldn't know to dodge, if it's been mimicking the
lyncanroc… Midday is all about attack, while Midnight will purposefully take damage so that it has a
more powerful Counter. So a rockruff watching the two of them battle wouldn't realise dodging is
actually part of a proper battle technique. Nice insight, Ash."
"Nah. It just makes sense. It's not like anyone would've—" He yawned again, then grunted. "Sorry.
It's not like anyone would've ever explained the difference."
Kukui glanced over. Rockruff was still trying to get the ball, but it had dropped to the floor and was
now just lazily stretching its paws out toward it. Ash, in turn, had started leaning on one arm to hold
himself up, and had clearly abandoned his cool-down work in favour of just rolling the ball absently.
"Is there anything else special about training a wild pokemon?" Kukui asked, hoping to get as much
of Ash's perspective down before he turned in for the night. "Or training in general?"
"Mm… not really," he said. "I mean, when it's basic training, then it's all basic training, right?
Learning how to dodge, how to hit, how to—" Another yawn, and he shifted down to prop himself
up on his elbow. He let Rockruff have the ball so he could reach out and pet it instead. "Rockruff's
making it pretty easy. It gets the whole… you know… not taking it personally thing. And how you
need to keep getting up again after you fall. It's so determined… it's so cool. You're amazing,
Rockruff, you know that, right?"
It whined back at him, leaning up his hand. Kukui shook his head and went back to his lesson plan,
wondering if the cheerleading was part of Ash's training style or just his encouraging personality.
"So for you, the basics are about dodging and aim," he summarised. "And you think you need to get
that out of the way before you can really focus on the move itself."
"Mmhm. It doesn't matter how strong we get that Rock Throw if Magmar can throw off its aim with
one Tail Whip, or knock it out with a couple of Flame Throwers," he mumbled. "Even if Rockruff
doesn't win the next battle, it's gonna make it work for it. But you are gonna win. You're so strong,
and you worked so hard today… no way you can lose this time. Tomorrow, we're gonna get it all
perfect. Tomorrow, you're gonna show 'em all. Right, Rockruff?"
It rumbled back at him, and Pikachu sighed out a similar kind of agreement.
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Kukui chuckled. "Tomorrow, huh? You really think Rockruff will have been able to learn all of that
and Rock Throw in just two days?" he asked, but Ash's only response was a vague hum. He lifted his
head again, only to find Ash had dropped all the way down, his hand still draped over Rockruff's
back, Pikachu still lazing over his leg, and all three of them asleep.
Something warm curled up under his ribs, not quite amusement or pride, but something deeper. He
hesitated, debating whether to make Ash get up and go to bed, or just leave him where he seemed
happy and comfortable. He had a blanket around here somewhere, he was pretty sure…
"Rockruff did make remarkable progress today," Rotom reported, jerking him out of the moment. "I
have several data points that map its improvement at an exponential rate! Would you like to review
the data, Professor?"
Kukui stared at it blankly for a few seconds, but as Rotom began flashing graphs and information, he
held up a hand to make it stop. "Not right now, Rotom," he said softly, and went back to watching
Ash and the pokemon. "Let's just leave it for now."
A review of Lesson Five:Thunder and Fire
"Um, Professor Kukui? May I talk to you for a moment?"
He lowered his pen and pushed away from the desk so he could turn and face the door. Lillie was
hovering in the door to the staff room, shoulders hunched and arms curled around Snowy like it was
a stuffed toy. She'd been acting a little oddly these last two days – quieter than usual and awkward,
like she wasn't entirely sure how to act. It made him wonder if she was really as comfortable with
Ash and pokemon battling as she had previously claimed to be.
"Of course, Lillie. Come on in," he said, beckoning her over. "I didn't expect to see any of you after
our catch up this morning. Did you all find Ash?"
"Yes. He was in the same place that Kiawe found him yesterday," she said as she glanced around.
Since it was still fairly early in the afternoon, most of the teachers were with their classes, leaving
the staff room empty aside from himself. Once she was confident they were alone, Lillie hurried in,
and Kukui leaned over to pull out another teacher's chair for her to sit on. Not that he expected this
to be a long discussion, but he and Hobbes were always hopeful that this would be the one time she
opened up to them. And that would only happen if she was comfortable.
"So how is the training going?" he asked as she sat down, lowering Snowy to the floor at their feet. It
sat down primly and began grooming its front paws.
"Rockruff used Rock Throw," she said. "But Ash was still going when we all left. He seemed to think
there was more work to do."
Kukui had to smile, approving. "Well, a good pokemon trainer knows that just because you can do
something once, that doesn't mean you really know it."
"You think so?"
"Of course," he said, and sat back in his chair, elbow propped on his desk. "Everything takes practice,
Lillie. No one gets anything perfect the first time. Not even pokemon."
She nodded thoughtfully, eyes lowering to look at Snowy. Kukui gazed at her quietly for a few
moments, but when she didn't say anything, he prompted, "So what did you want to talk to me
about? Is it about the assignment?"
"I – I suppose that's it," she said slowly. "I've been thinking about – about what it means to be a
pokemon trainer. And whether I'm really cut out for this school."
He paused, considering all possible interpretations of his next few words before deciding to change
it to a question instead. "May I ask why?"
"Well, I… I don't really know. Everyone is trying to help me so much, and they're all so wonderful,
but I sometimes wonder… I mean, how can I really learn everything there is to know about pokemon
if Snowy's the only one I can touch?" she asked, voice rising slightly. "I watch Ash, and he – he's so
natural with them. He's never scared, even when the others are, and he's always so confident. He
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and Pikachu… I almost can't imagine them not being together. I love Snowy so much, but… I don't… I
don't know if we'll ever be able to be like that. He's such a good trainer, so… so I… I must be…"
Kukui hesitated again. There were two ways he could approach this, and neither felt right.
On the one hand, Lillie really had been making amazing progress lately. She was perfectly
comfortable with her new vulpix, even when it got over excited and used Powder Snow. Instead of
panicking like they'd expected, she would just laugh it off and hug Snowy all the tighter. She didn't
jump away from large pokemon anymore, instead able to keep her stance until they were close
enough to touch. He truly believed that it was only a matter of time before she overcame her fear of
all pokemon and became just as good a pokemon trainer as Ash had said she'd be.
"She just needs to realise that not all pokemon are like the one that hurt her."
At his extended silence, Lillie was beginning to look more upset, so he made up his mind to go with
option two. "You don't have to be like Ash to be a good trainer."
"What?"
"Lillie, it's enough that you love and respect pokemon," he said gently. "You're so passionate about
learning everything there is to know about them. That's enough. It really is. There are a lot of people
—even in the Pokemon Industry—who never have pokemon themselves. Who never even touch
them, whether they can or not."
She looked up at him with wide eyes. "You think so?"
"Of course. Officer Jenny only recently caught her first pokemon with Gumshoos, remember. And
Rockruff aside, when was the last time you saw me handle a pokemon?" he pointed out. "Honestly,
too many people get caught up in the fun of pokemon to really understand them. That's why
objective knowledge—from people who consider the facts and the science—is so important. It helps
give the industry perspective."
She stared at him silently for a few seconds, before a relieved smile blossomed over her lips and she
laughed out a breath. "You really think so? Oh, I'm so glad. I was really worried you didn't think I
belonged in your class."
"What? Lillie, no, of course not!" he cried. "And I know the others students feel the same way. That's
why they were so comfortable giving you Snowy's egg, and deciding that you should be its trainer.
They would never have done that if they didn't feel you were an important member of our class."
"I suppose that's true," she said, bouncing her head and shoulders in a small grin. "Thank you,
Professor."
"Of course. And really, Lillie, you shouldn't judge your abilities as a trainer against Ash – or any other
trainer," he added. "Everyone has their own unique relationship with pokemon, and everyone is
their own unique kind of trainer. No one is expecting you to suddenly want to become a Pokemon
Master, or even train Snowy for battles. And even if that does become what you want to do, then
you still don't have to be like Ash. To be honest, most battle trainers don't put as much… personal
effort into training pokemon as Ash does."
"Oh, thank goodness," she said, touching a hand to her chest. "That really did make me a bit
worried."
"You shouldn't," he said with a wry grin. "I don't think I've ever seen someone train pokemon like
Ash."
"He's so intense when he's training!" she said, her eyes gaining a slightly starry glaze as she balled
her hands into excited little fists. "He gets all pumped up, and when he told Rockruff to attack him,
he looked so brave! Like some kind of superhero!"
Kukui almost chuckled, until the words actually parsed and he ended up furrowing his brow instead.
"Attack him? What do you mean, he told Rockruff told to attack him?"
"That's how we saw Rockruff use its attack," she said. "Ash told it to use Rock Throw on him. He said
—" She lowered her voice in what he supposed was an impression of Ash. "—'come at me with
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everything you've got!' And then Rockruff used Rock Throw, and Ash didn't even dodge at all! The
rocks were so big, and came so fast, and he just—" She crossed her arms in front of her face. "—he
just blocked them like that. It must have hurt a lot, but he was so happy Rockruff hit him! It was so
incredible! I don't think I could do something like that."
Kukui gazed at her silently for a few seconds.
He'd thought that when Oak's essay had talked about pokemon attacking their trainer in friendly
greeting, he actually meant showcasing an attack. Maybe a near-miss, or in the same way Pikachu
had attacked the ground in front of those poles earlier in the week.
But no. This implied that Ash's pokemon really did physically attack him. With real, fully-powered
attacks.
And now he was apparently telling wild pokemon to do the same.
Yes, it was for training, and Rockruff was as tame as a wild pokemon could be, but…
Ash was not his kid. He was not allowed to beat him around the head for being an idiot.
"No, Lillie," he said with a forced smile. "Even if you were a battle trainer, no one would expect you
to do something like that."
Three days later, as he sat in the front yard with his feet up on the fence, he read five essays and
listened to the mildly confusing sounds of Ash trying to teach his newest pokemon how to bite.
"You're gonna want to do this—rargnn—and you totally should. But you also need to go 'graaghn'
and then bam! And really you need to focus more on that. The graaghn, not the bam. That'll happen
on its own."
"Rrrruff!"
"Yeah! That's it!"
Kukui shook his head and went back to Sophocles' paper. He'd marked Lillie's paper first, and it set a
pretty high bar, outlining a variety of accepted training methodologies, comparing them to Ash's
more active style, and then providing a working definition for 'battle' training. Sophocles was trying
to do something similar, but had gotten distracted.
To start with, he'd spent the first half of the first page very nearly whining about how they didn't
have enough time to properly gather data and so couldn't be expected to give a comprehensive
report. And then it veered off into Sophocles' preference for facts and figures. There was a statistical
analysis on rockruffs as competitive battlers, and how they were inclined toward physical attacks
because as a rock type they were all about aggression. He went on a quick tangent about how this
could have negative impacts when fighting water-types, but was highly effective against fire-types.
He argued that Rockruff would have been better served learning something more versatile to start
with, like Tackle.
It was a solid paper. It hit some good points and made a tangible argument, backed with facts and
figures.
It just had barely anything to do with the actual topic, as Kukui wrote in his comment. The
assignment was to explore how training for battle was different than training for moves. Not discuss
the move itself.
"No, no, you're putting too much into your teeth. When you Bite, you don't really need to bite that
much. The jaws come from back here. So you gotta build them up. Go grrrmmm!"
"Grrrrck!"
"Yeah! Now deeper. Come on! Grrrrmm!"
"Grrrrrrck!"
Kukui rolled his eyes at the sounds and moved on. Lana's paper was far more focussed than
Sophocles'. She talked about how when you trained to learn a move, you focussed completely on
the pokemon and their point of focus. She believed it was a much more internal process. Battle
training, she argued, was about being able to respond to things quickly and efficiently.
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It wasn't a bad thesis, but unfortunately, she fell down a little in the actual explanation. She started
comparing it to fishing, where you had to know when to reel and when to release. Again, it could
have been a very good analogy if she'd tied it in with evidence from either her own experience or
from watching Ash and Kiawe, but she kept it vague instead. If it had been an in-class essay, it
probably would have scored pretty well. As it was, however, he sighed and marked her accordingly,
sure she could have done better.
"Wh- ow! Ughh…!"
Kukui looked up and around, then set his papers and pen aside to climb over the fence and look
down over the cliff. Ash was standing with his pokemon in front of a splintered piece of driftwood,
one hand pressed to his eye while Rockruff and Pikachu stared at him worriedly.
"Ash…?" Kukui prompted. "You okay down there?"
"Yeah… I didn't guard when I should've," he said, and tilted his head back to look up through one
eye. "We're not bein' too loud, right? We can go further up the beach if you want."
"It's fine." He glanced at Rockruff, very conscious of how Ash didn't seem inclined to move his hand
but was even less likely to admit to being hurt in front of his pokemon. "Anything you need me to
take a look at?"
"Nah, we're okay," he said, and went back to Rockruff. "Let's try it again."
"Pika pika?" Pikachu asked, and Ash flicked his free hand.
"I'm fine – just got a little grazed. Now come on, Rockruff, try again. But remember, it starts from the
back of your throat."
Kukui hesitated, but slowly went back to his work with nothing more than a shake of his head. Not
even Ash would be able to ignore something actually in his eye. He'd check it out after he finished
the reports.
Mallow's paper was good, though it admitted straight-up that she didn't really see a big difference
between training 'normally' and for battle. She did a pretty decent job of discussing it though, talking
about her own training when compared to what Ash did. They both focussed on how their pokemon
responded to others. But where Steenee was a 'helpful' pokemon, Ash's pokemon were 'aggressive'.
She supposed that was probably the difference – in training a pokemon 'normally', you focussed on
how a pokemon could make the best use of its own abilities, while a battler was more focussed on
how to overcome someone else's strengths.
There was logic to it. Despite her ambivalence, she'd actually made a strong case, and used extensive
practical evidence, with clearly presented examples. As a battle trainer himself, he couldn't help
getting a little defensive, but the teacher in him had to admit that wasn't the point.
It wasn't a bad report. Well structured and sound. But the fact it had raised his hackles made him
pause, drumming his pen against the side of his head as he reread it.
"Alright! Nice job! You almost got it that time!"
"Pii-ika!"
"Did you feel how big it was? Like there was so much more?"
"Ruff!"
"Think you can make it even bigger?"
"Rukk! Rockruff!"
Kukui lifted his head again, letting the sound of Ash's training distract him for a while. Surprisingly,
he was pretty sure he knew what Ash was getting at this time. The true strength of Bite, much like
Fire Fang and all of that move family, was not in the jaw itself. It was in a visualisation of power –
extending the attack beyond its physical limitations and then bringing that extension into reality.
Most trainers would have focussed on the physical act first – the bite and yank. That ensured that
even if their pokemon couldn't build up their power, they still had a good, strong attack that could
be used in battle. Even a literal bite could be dangerous if done right, after all.
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But while Ash wasn't using the words, it was relatively obvious that he was prompting Rockruff to
explore the deeper power behind Bite. It was somewhat similar to the way that other trainers might
work on evolving Bite into Crunch. It sacrificed the physical strength for the metaphysical.
He wondered if Ash knew that. Was he consciously making a short-term sacrifice for a long-term
goal, or just… backward? He wondered how Ash would phrase it if Kukui asked him to explain his
process.
Phrasing… Kukui quietly gasped and went back to Mallow's report. The flaw was not in her report
structure, but in her word choice. With words like 'aggression' and 'normal', in the context she'd
used them, she was being unintentionally confrontational, and that damaged her argument overall.
He couldn't really mark her down for it, but it was something she should be careful with. While
plenty of fully qualified researchers did the same thing, they were a lot more conscious about it, and
it could be very dangerous to accidentally pick a fight in the academic community. You never came
out unscathed.
But as he read back over the report, underlining the offending words, he felt his initial anger fade
into mild amusement.
Because honestly, Ash's pokemon? Aggressive?
Yes, they could fight, and battle seemed to be the one thing even Rowlet actually got enthusiastic
about. But at the same time, said owl spent most of its time as little more than a feathery doorstop,
no matter what you did to it. Pikachu seemed to take an unhealthy amount of pride in being
considered adorable, and had tolerated an awful lot of abuse for how little it seemed to reciprocate
Togedemaru's affection. And Ash himself was probably the softest touch in a class recognised
throughout the Pokemon School—itself a highly flexible and supportive environment—as being 'the
nice kids'.
'Aggressive'.
He shook his head and set her report aside. If only he could be so critical of his colleagues' language
choices – now that was something he could go to town on.
"Okay, let's take a break – you do too much of one thing and you're gonna go crazy," Ash's voice
drifted up, a little closer than before. "Let's go for a run, okay? Rowlet, wake up, you're in on this
too!"
"R-row?"
"We're racing! You can fly or run, and it doesn't matter what path you take. But you've gotta go into
town, past the Pokemon Centre, into the market past Litten's friend, down to the beach and back
here. No Quick Attack, Pikachu, and for you guys, remember to pace yourself. This is a race, not a
sprint! Everyone ready?"
A chorus of pokemon voices answered him, and he called the start. Within seconds, Rowlet was
flying up overhead, and it only took a few more before Rockruff came bolting up the path to the
beach with Ash and Pikachu behind. Kukui watched quietly as they dashed past, pretty sure that
Rockruff was pushing itself too hard. He made a note on his rubric to ask Ash about it later.
But in the meantime, he went back to the report he'd kind of been waiting for: Kiawe.
Despite their rivalry and its occasional escalations into actual conflict, Ash and Kiawe had become
surprisingly close. Between the fact that they were the only two battlers in the class and how…
enthusiastic they could both get on occasion, they'd found a friendship with each other that the
others couldn't quite match. Ash seemed to appreciate Kiawe's steadying gruffness, while also
responding well to his more… explosive moments, which was something the others had never really
been able to do. It had really allowed Kiawe to relax and open up, even if he was still trying (and
more frequently failing, these days) to be the 'grown up' of the class.
As a teacher, it reassured Kukui more than he'd expected. He'd always been a little worried about
Kiawe – his responsibilities on the ranch and serious personality had always kept him a little distant
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from the other kids. It would have been fine, if he'd been able to dedicate himself to a career or
study, but his only goal was to protect Akala. Which, again, could have been fine, if he only knew
what that meant.
Personally, Kukui suspected that Kiawe had wanted to inherit his grandfather's title, but that was
unlikely. Olivia was younger than Kukui himself, and a kahuna couldn't pass on their crown until their
death. So that left Kiawe… drifting. He had no tangible goal, no personal connections beyond his
family, no path to follow.
He was destined to burn out.
Now, at least, he was taking some joy in life. With Ash playing to both sides of his personality, he was
finally able to be himself: a kid in a class, learning new skills and having new experiences. With that,
there was a real chance he might be able to find something beyond his island. Something else he
could dedicate all that passionate fire to.
"But, for the meantime, let's see what the Flamethrower has to say about the Thunderbolt," Kukui
muttered to himself, and settled back to work.
The report hand back went well, most of the students accepting their results with grace, except for
Sophocles. He waved his barely-passing grade at Ash like he was to blame.
"It's because you didn't take long enough! How was I supposed to get enough information to write
anything good when you don't put in any time?"
Ash just laughed at him, which was probably a little harsh considering he hadn't needed to write
anything himself. Mallow, however, jumped up and snatched the paper to read Kukui's comments,
and then snorted.
"Don't blame Ash just because you can't answer a question when you're asked," she said, dropping
the report on his head.
Kiawe, on the other hand, was surprisingly quiet. After class was over, and the others had filed out of
the classroom, he approached Kukui's desk and lay the paper down. "Do I deserve this?"
Kukui looked at it again. Lillie had scored higher, but it was still better than anything Kiawe had
gotten on a written assessment before. "Is there some reason why you wouldn't? Did someone else
write it?"
"No, of course not," he said. "It just doesn't seem fair. I had a different assignment than everyone
else."
"Yes, but you're more advanced in this area," he replied. "It wouldn't have been fair to give you the
same question as them."
Kiawe frowned, and so Kukui sighed and sat back in his chair. "Alright then. Here and now, answer
the question I gave them. How is training for battle different than move training?"
He shrugged. "When you train for a move, you train in something specific. Battle training is broader.
You aren't just learning how to use a move, you're learning how to do lots of things at once."
"Correct. And how did Ash do that?"
"Because he wasn't just focussing on Rock Throw. He spent more time teaching Rockruff about how
to dodge and build up its strength and stamina than he did actually practising the move."
"Exactly. And in that single sentence, you beat out your classmates in your ability to properly answer
my question," he said. "They don't quite understand the difference between raising a pokemon and
training it. Which is fine for the purpose of this report, since there are some trainers who would
argue that it's just semantics. But for you, it would have been too basic a question and that would
have damaged your ability to answer it effectively," he said, and then gestured to Kiawe's report.
"This was a solid report. You have practical examples and explored them to reach a conclusion. You
still need to work on the depth of your explanations and your structure, but your report compared
battle styles, answered the question, and ultimately showed your understanding of the issue. You
earned your grade."
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"I… okay," he said, and then rubbed the nape of his neck. "I guess I'm just worried that I missed
something, I mean… His training worked, right? Rockruff beat that magmar. But I don't really know
why it worked."
Kukui slowly nodded. It was something he'd noticed in Kiawe's report, but it wasn't the flaw Kiawe
seemed to think it was. "Then let's review. You started your report by quoting your grandfather."
"Yeah. He always used to say that I would find strength in battle not by how often I won, but the
journey I took to get there," he said. "That's why every pokemon trainer is different, because we all
have our different ways of doing things."
"Good. And in your travels, you've seen different training styles. Some people who focus on pure
strength, some people who prioritise defence… what do you prioritise?"
Kiawe shrugged again. "I'm a fire-type specialist. The best way for fire-types to fight is by attacking. If
you can't overwhelm your opponent, then you can at least cause a burn and get damage over time."
Keep burning until you run out of oxygen, Kukui thought absently. It had been a saying that was
popular when he was travelling trainer, mocking fire-types. Not very nice, but like all stereotypes,
there was some truth to it. You burned out that way.
"Alright," he said instead. "And what would you say Ash prioritises?"
Here, Kiawe seemed to falter. He hesitated, then stopped completely before looking up again. "My
grandfather used to say it was most important to focus on your own strength, more than trying to
beat others. And that's what Ash was doing – getting Rockruff to think about how it did things, and
how it could improve in itself."
"That's a good start," he said. "One you didn't mention in your report, too. There are a lot of trainers
that don't do that, so you could argue that was one thing that made him different to others.
Anything else that you can think of?"
"I don't know. I mean… I thought his thing was speed. When he's with Pikachu, that's really what
gives him the edge – he keeps moving so it's hard to keep track. And then Pikachu comes out of
nowhere to just blow you away with all that power it has. But Rowlet's not really that fast, and he
kind of had Rockruff taking its time to build up power."
"All good evidence for an argument against speed being his strategy; well done," he said. It was
nothing he hadn't already said in his report, but Kukui could see Kiawe's problem. He always
performed better when asked to verbally explain something – hopefully, by talking it out, Kiawe
would be able to actually understand the conclusion he'd already reached in his report. Kukui
gestured for him to continue. "So if you had to pick one, what is his specialty? Was there anything
else Ash encouraged in Rockruff? Any habits or skills that really stuck out to you?"
"There was something he said…" Kiawe said slowly. "He said that you deal with Flame Thrower by
dodging it. Not beating it back with power or blocking it, but dodging it. Like… like at one point, he
said that the idea is to not get hit. And I mean, you can't train a pokemon to just dodge everything.
It's too risky. They'll get hit eventually, right? They have to know how to take damage."
"Some trainers would argue otherwise," Kukui said, waving off the tangent. "It's a strategy called the
'glass cannon', where you have a lot of power but not much defence. It's common with fairy-types, a
few poison-types, and pure electic-types." He could actually imagine Snowy being raised to be a
glass cannon, come to think of it. Especially if it was evolved into a ninetails. Dependent, of course,
on Lillie actually teaching it to battle. "But from what we've seen of Pikachu's battle-style, that's not
what Ash does."
"No…" he agreed slowly. "It dodges a lot, but it can take a lot of hits when it has to. I think he was
just talking about dodging as a starting point. Because he was always does something after. It's
about… it's about…"
Kukui waited with a small smile on his face. They were definitely getting there.
"He dodges, and then he moves," Kiawe said. "He… reacts? Is that a speciality?"
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He made a vague noise, because it was, but it wasn't everything. "You're describing the Counter
strategy, where you encourage your opponent to attack you, and then turn that damage back on
them. Or, perhaps, the Misdirection Strategy, which is often used by ghost- and fairy-type trainers.
They take advantage of trickery and misdirection to frustrate their opponents, and often cause them
to damage themselves, or simply expend a lot of effort for no pay off."
"Right. My grandfather always told me to watch out for them," he said, and then pulled back to think
again. "It sounds kind of close. Because he… You think he's saying – I mean, doing one thing, and
then he does – he gets them to do something else."
Kukui's nodded encouragingly. "Alright, now think about that. Why would you think he was doing
something in particular? How can you assume anything about a battle?"
"Because it's a strategy," he said blankly, and Kukui nodded.
"Which is?"
"What's a strategy? It's a set of moves and actions that –"
"That you can respond to with your own strategy," he summarised, and then grinned. "Do you play
chess, Kiawe?"
He balked, then frowned, obviously caught off-guard by the apparent non-sequitor. "Uh… no?"
"Bad analogy then, but bear with me," he said with a shrug. "You might know that each chess piece
has a name, and they're only allowed to move in certain ways."
"Like… a pokemon can only use certain moves?" he asked, scrabbling to make the connection.
"Not my point, but yes. A knight can only move two spaces in one straight direction, followed by one
space at a right angle to the original direction. A bishop can move as many spaces as it likes, but only
on a diagonal. And so on. Chess players build up strategies based on how the pieces can move, and
how they would respond to other people's strategies. A lot of success comes from reading your
opponent, and guessing at the strategy they will play. So what happens, do you think, when you
have someone who knows how to move his pieces and respond to threats, but no personal
strategy?"
Kiawe frowned. "You'd win, right? If the game is about strategy –"
"Isn't pokemon battling all about strategy?" he replied, and Kiawe's brow furrowed deeper as his
frustration rose.
"It's not the same. Pokemon are living beings, not chess pieces."
"Right again. But they do have defined abilities, defined moves, defined strategies. You expect a
pokemon to behave a certain way according to their training," he reminded him. "So, let's apply the
metaphor. In a chess game, you play strategy versus strategy, until you meet a player without a
strategy, but very strong skills and a quick, responsive mind. And so you, in turn, are forced to react
to what they do, without being able to see what they're planning because they're not planning
anything. What happens?"
Kiawe stared at him blankly for a few seconds, before his eyes dropped to the ground and he took
the time to really think it through. Kukui watched the hints of fury begin to etch into his face before
he abruptly looked up, fists clenched and shoulders hunched. "That's his strategy? Winging it?"
Kukui had to push down on his urge to laugh, because he could imagine he probably would have
been equally offended a few years ago. If that was what Ash was doing—if he was doing it on
purpose—then every time it worked, it would be an insult to most of the professional battle circuit.
Or a serious wake up call. One of the two.
"I'm not sure. I still haven't seen him battle enough to tell," he said instead. "But as we've just
discussed, he doesn't seem to be training toward any obvious style. There doesn't seem to be a
clear-cut strategy to anything he does. Instead, he trains his pokemon to be strong in themselves. He
ensures they have basic skills down to the point that they become second-nature, and then he builds
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on their personal strengths while concentrating on their ability to respond to outside threats. It's not
a style I recognise. But it does seem to be what Ash does."
"But – but that –!"
"And you outlined that in your report," he said, reaching out to tap his fist against Kiawe's forgotten
paper. The kid faltered, eyes dropping down to stare at it blankly as he remembered why they were
actually having this discussion in the first place. Kukui offered a mild grin in return. "You discussed it,
and gave examples. Even though you didn't understand the result, you still documented it and
analysed the information provided to you. That is what a good report does, Kiawe. You earned the
grade I gave you."
He continued staring for a few seconds, anger visibly draining out of him. Eventually, he picked up
his report, read a few lines of it, and then looked up at Kukui without any expression. "So the
problem is more that... Ash confuses me, Professor."
It wasn't professional or appropriate, but Kukui found himself quietly nodding in empathetic
agreement. But he did manage to stop himself from saying anything until he'd found a better
response. "Honestly, that's pretty common in the scientific world. You can theorise all you like, but
at the end of the day, you can't force your results to fit a hypothesis. Sometimes they don't make
sense until you find more data." He leaned forward with what he hoped was a wise and knowing
look. "It's a little like forming a friendship that way, isn't it?"
Kiawe faltered again, before his shoulders slumped and a tiny grin split his lips. In the end, he
chuckled and stepped back from the desk. "I guess so. Thanks, Professor."
"No problem. And well done on your report. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"
"Yeah. Bye."
Kukui watched him go, then sighed to himself and stood up so he could wander over to the balcony.
The courtyard below was filled with leaving students, but he could pick out the rest of his class,
lingering by the gate as they tended to do. It looked like Ash, Lana, and Mallow were going
somewhere together. He smiled, hoping this meant Ash would be taking an afternoon off from
training – he'd been working a little too hard since Rowlet's poisoning.
But any approval faded as his eyes flicked to Rotom, hovering over Ash's shoulder as always. Even
with all its extra data, Rotom hadn't been able to make any more sense of Ash's training than the
class. It insisted that it shouldn't have been effective – that Ash was too vague and didn't focus on
anything long enough for his pokemon to properly grasp concepts and ideas. But the more Kukui
learned, the more he wondered about that.
Ash trained his pokemon with such passion and fire, in ways that seemed so simple and basic but…
weren't. It was more that he trained his pokemon to react and respond without getting caught up in
plans or assumptions. Because when they weren't reacting, his pokemon moved quickly and hit
hard, coming from places you didn't expect. You couldn't do that if you were too worried about what
you'd be doing afterward. Maybe Ash knew what that would be, but he was always ready to change
his mind if he needed to.
It wasn't misdirection. His pokemon didn't hide their strength, just like Ash didn't—or rather, didn't
seem able to—lie. It was just that they wore it so comfortably, so constantly, that you didn't notice
it. And when it finally hit you—the power of his pokemon's attacks, the strength Ash had as a trainer
—it came on so fast and sudden that you almost didn't realise what had happened.
A thunderbolt indeed. But on a sunny day, with no cloud in sight.
Kukui drummed his fingers against the railing, bothered as only a scientist could be when presented
with incongruous data. But like any good scientist, he wasn't about to give up. "I'll figure you out
yet," he swore, pointing at his boarder. "I've got a Trace on you."
Down in the courtyard, Ash just laughed and started leading his friends away.
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Lesson Six: Help, and the need for it

Principal Oak stared at the broken fence for a few seconds, then up at Kukui as if waiting for some
kind of explanation. For his part, Kukui could only shrug. It wasn't like he could have stopped the
guardian deity from causing it.
Which Oak seemed to understand, because he only paused another few seconds before stepping
forward to lean over and gaze down at the hard rock path below. "Now I look at it, it's quite the
drop. Never quite occurred to me before."
Kukui shook his head. With the fence there, he'd never really worried about the cliff or its height.
Now he couldn't stop thinking about how dangerous it was.
"I heard from the students that Ash dove over the edge."
"To catch Pikachu, yes," he said, shifting his weight. He still wasn't sure how he felt about the whole
thing. It was probably the bravest and stupidest thing he'd ever seen. And while he doubted Pikachu
would have survived the fall alone, he honestly couldn't guess at what Ash had been hoping to
accomplish by jumping after. Yes, he might have saved Pikachu, but what kind of shape would he
have been in after hitting ground?
And yet he hadn't even hesitated a split second – he'd almost been running before Pikachu hit the
fence. Kukui's heart had leapt into his throat and he'd barely had time to realise before it was all
over.
"He was saved by his opponent, I hear," Oak said slowly. "Tapu Koko, if the rumours are true."
"They're true," Kukui admitted. "It's the second time it's challenged Ash."
"The first being… his second day of school, correct?"
"That's right."
"Interesting," he said, and folded his arms over his chest with a wry grin. "Maybe we should start
advertising! Come to the Pokemon School: get a Tapu Kokorriculum!"
Kukui closed his eyes and furrowed his brow, letting the pain of such a horrendous pun further calm
his nerves. "Maybe."
They were silent for a few seconds, and Kukui slowly realised the principal was watching him from
the corner of his eye. He raised an eyebrow in return, and Oak lifted the side of his mouth in a
crooked smile.
"It must be quite a change for the boy, staying in one place rather than travelling. How is he fitting
in?"
"Uh, great," he said, caught off-guard by the change in subject. "You'd almost think he'd always been
in the class. And he loves Alola – fits right in to our way of doing things."
"Hm… what did Kahuna Hala think of him?"
Kukui faltered again, then settled into the question with a deeper frown. Hala had mostly seemed
intrigued, wondering what Tapu Koko was thinking to have taken such an interest in Ash. At the
time, Kukui had assumed that was why Hala had occasionally stopped and just looked at him for a
few seconds at a time, his expression slightly clouded as if in judgement. But even so, it had seemed
odd. And there had been that strange conversation they'd had, when they were all preparing for
their impromptu celebration…
"So tell me, Young Ash: what made you want to stay here, in Alola?"
"Because it's so much fun here! There's so much to see, and heaps to learn! I want to be a Pokemon
Master, and that means I need to battle and learn as much as I can about pokemon from all over the
world! Alola's so different to anywhere else I've been, it's so amazing! I really love it."
"I see. That's the reason, is it?"
The way he'd looked at him… Kukui knew that really was why Ash had decided to stay in Alola – he
told pretty much everyone the exact same thing when they asked. The answer never changed, never
hinted at anything else. But Hala hadn't been convinced.
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"He seemed to like him well enough," he said eventually. "And he met Ash in battle without holding
back, so he was impressed with his skills. Why do you ask?"
"I was just curious to see how our exchange student was finding his way here," he said blithely,
closing his eyes for a moment before reopening them with a broad grin. "You know, I've been
thinking about our Open House day. What do you think about having Ash give a presentation for our
guests? Really show how much we've taught him about Alola and our pokemon!"
Kukui raised his eyebrows, once again feeling like he'd lost the conversation somewhere. With the
lack of puns and how serious Oak seemed, he'd been expecting it to go somewhere much heavier.
"Uh… sure. That sounds like a great idea. And it would be good to give him an assignment the others
don't need to do – he's one behind on them at the moment."
"Magikarple! I'm always seaking opportunities for our students to eggsecute their talents! Wynaut
take the opportunity when it's delibird? It'd be tentacruel not to!"
Kukui twitched, and Oak just grinned all the wider. He should have known it was just building up.
Later, he tried to tell himself that Oak's strange mood and atrocious puns were cause enough for
Kukui to all but forget the entire incident. He certainly didn't have any other explanation for why he
calmly went home and didn't bother speaking to Ash about the fact he'd once again battled a god,
let alone worried over his boarder's apparent willingness to get himself killed for little benefit.
The weird thing was that as the days passed, it really did just filter out of his attention. It wasn't until
he was in the middle of class, literally three days and a completely separate adventure later, writing
a type-advantage formula on the board and explaining how a psychic pokemon using a fairy-type
move would fair against a steel-type pokemon, that it really registered with him that Ash had
perfectly described Tapu Lele after coming home the day before. Which meant he probably really
had seen it. Which meant he'd met two legendary pokemon in the space of forty-eight hours.
And last night, Kukui had just laughed, smiled, and told him he was lucky.
Lucky.
His boarder had a personal encounter with a living god – an actual fight with the guardian deity of
battle. Then the next day—without even knowing such a thing existed—claimed to have been healed
by the guardian deity of life. And Kukui had just laughed, and called him lucky.
The chalk squeaked in protest as he mentally processed that.
He tried to justify it to himself. After all, Ash hadn't been that invested or all that impressed by Tapu
Lele. He'd been more curious about the wimpod.
He battled one god, was personally healed by another, and then got all excited about a common
water louse.
Right.
Yes.
"Professor?" Lillie called, and he blinked hard, suddenly realising he'd been gaping at his chalkboard
for several minutes. He coughed and tried to focus. Because, well, honestly… what else could he do?
In hindsight, it was only more distressing that he managed it.
Another thing that only occurred to him in random, forgettable moments was that for such a
cheerful, hyperactive kid, Ash sometimes got into very odd moods.
Not depression, or anything like that. That might have made a kind of bipolar sense. It was more like
he would just go quiet and serious, watching things with dark, thoughtful eyes… while insisting he
wasn't thinking about much at all.
He looked at Rotom's pictures of Stoutland training Litten like that.
"Something wrong?" Kukui asked as Ash slowly pulled away from the bench. "Let me guess – you
want to help Litten learn Fire Fang?"
Ash's eyes flicked to him a moment before he grinned. "Yeah, kind of! But Litten doesn't want my
help, so I need to stay out of it!" His smile faded slightly as his eyes lowered back down. "Don't I…"
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"Pika pika?" Pikachu asked, hopping a little closer to Ash. He glanced at it, then closed his eyes in a
brief but reassuring grin before turning away. Kukui frowned.
"Ash?"
"Yeah?"
He hesitated, not completely sure how he should handle the situation. Because it wasn't that Ash
seemed upset. Kukui didn't even suspect he was just doing a very good job of hiding it. He just
seemed… "You're worried about Stoutland, aren't you?"
He didn't immediately answer, eyes flicking off to the side before coming back. "I wouldn't say I'm
worried. It doesn't want help."
Hearing the repetition he could guess Ash hadn't meant to give, Kukui shifted his weight to one leg
and folded his arms. "You keep saying that."
"Saying what?"
"Litten and Stoutland don't want your help. You keep saying that," he said. "It makes me wonder if
maybe you're trying to convince yourself of something."
Again, Ash just stared at him for a second, before he suddenly laughed and turned around, hooking
one foot behind the other ankle while his hand reached up to rub the back of his head. "I guess I am!
I'm not very good at keeping my nose out of other people's business. I'm trying to get better at it."
Kukui glanced at Rotom, trying to silently tell it to follow Ash's example and stay out of this, before
leaning back over the bench. "Self-improvement is always a good thing, but I don't know if this is
actually something you need to work on, Ash. I haven't seen you do anything like that so far."
"It's more that…" He grimaced, shifting his stance again so he was steady on two feet. "A little while
ago, when I was in Kalos, I started thinking like I had to do everything myself. Like it all depended on
me."
He raised his eyebrows slightly. "What depended on you?"
"I dunno. It got the worst in battles, but I think I was doing it with everything," he said vaguely. "And
that's not fair, I mean… people are strong. They're strong on their own, even when they need help.
Sometimes they just need someone to believe in them. And… I guess I forgot that. I forgot to believe
in my friends. My partners. Even when I need to."
From the corner of his eye, Kukui noticed Pikachu's ears drop down behind its head, and it hopped a
step closer again. "Pikapi…"
"With the people here… Lillie, and Kiawe… Litten…" Ash looked off to the side again, not quite
awkward. "I can see myself doing it again, a little. I… I need to not do that. Litten… and Stoutland… if
they want to do this on their own… then I have to let them. I have to let them be strong."
For his part, Kukui could only gaze back at him in silence, quietly floored. It wasn't unlike what he'd
said when talking about Lillie, and just like that time, there was logic to it. A kind of deep, heart-felt
logic that spoke of something much bigger than Ash was actually saying. Something bigger than
Kukui felt able to comprehend.
"So I will," Ash said firmly, giving one of his broad, defiant grins. "Simple as that."
"Fair enough," Kukui murmured. Even if he didn't understand… he didn't feel like there was anything
else he could say.
As much as there was something in him that wanted to sweep that moment away as just an out of
character moment, things with Litten didn't get better, and Ash's mood only got heavier. At least
until Litten came to him for help, and for a moment, it seemed like he would bounce back to normal.
His call from the Pokemon Centre, while serious, had him sounding much more like himself than he
had the night before.
It didn't last. Kukui hadn't expected to see Ash again until Stoutland finally passed away, but when
Kukui got up in the morning it was to find Ash in the kitchen, Pikachu on his shoulder, quietly making
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breakfast. They both looked exhausted, and quiet beeps and snores from the loft implied the others
were still sleeping, hinting that he'd been home for a while.
"Ash? What are you doing here? " Kukui asked. "Is Stoutland…?"
"Mm-mm," he said. "It and Litten left the Pokemon Centre last night. They went home."
"But… from what you said…" he said slowly, but Ash didn't meet his gaze, picking up his bowl and
heading over to the couch.
"Yeah."
"I…" He watched Ash walk over and sit down to begin eating, though he didn't look all that enthused
about it. He was just going through the motions, Kukui realised. Trying not to interfere.
Like so many of these odd moments with Ash, he could see the theory, but that nagging feeling in his
gut was back, reminding him that this wasn't something a normal kid should be doing. Kukui glanced
at the kitchen, but decided caffeine could wait for the moment and instead headed over to sit on the
other arm of the couch, elbows on his knees as he watched Ash avoid looking at anything.
"Have you ever lost anyone?" he asked gently.
Ash shrugged and shook his head, but it felt more like a non-answer than a denial. All the same,
Kukui decided not to pry. "It's never easy, is it?"
"It… doesn't seem fair," he said, and lowered his spoon back into the bowl, eyes dark. "Everything
that happens, all the close calls… but sometimes there's nothing you can do."
"Yeah," he breathed, certain now. Ash had seen death before. Enough to process it, in the same sad,
twisted way everyone did when it hurt too much. Understanding wasn't always acceptance. And, he
reminded himself quietly, grief could be acknowledged without being dealt with. "Let's go and find
Litten after school today. Together."
Ash kept staring into his cereal for a long time, but eventually he swallowed and nodded. "Thanks,
Professor."
True to his insistence on 'letting Litten be strong', Ash let himself be guided away from the grieving
cat, and went back to the motions. He ate dinner, went to bed. The next day, he nibbled his way
through some toast, sat in class, listened to the others talk at lunch… he went home via the market
and bridge but came home soon after and even made at an attempt at doing homework.
If he kept breaking off to stare out at the rain, well…
Pikachu barely moved from his shoulder, staring at the nothing just like its trainer. Rowlet slept
through most of it, but Rockruff watched them both with wide, worried eyes. Kukui picked it up on
his way past, empathising more than he was willing to admit.
"Ash, dinner's ready," he called. When there was no immediate response, he raised his voice. "Ash.
It's time for dinner. Come on, your pokemon need feeding and you should eat before it gets cold."
The reminder about his pokemon seemed to get through at least, and he pulled himself away from
the window with visible effort.
"Yeah, thanks, Professor," he said. "I'll be right there."
While Ash poured out the pokechow, Kukui set out the human food and watched his boarder from
over his glasses. He knew Ash was worried, but this was getting a little out of hand. "How was Litten
when you saw it this afternoon?"
He shrugged. "I took it some berries, but it didn't eat. It wouldn't look at me."
Like Ash wouldn't look at him, Kukui thought but didn't say. Instead, he waited until Ash had sat
down and picked up his plate. "It's mourning its family. It will get through this, Ash. Everyone does."
"Not everyone," he said softly, but didn't expand on that, poking at his food a few times before
apparently forcing himself to eat.
Kukui turned his attention to his own food, debating the best way to deal with this. He was out of his
depth and he knew it, but he also knew that no one was great when it came to this sort of thing.
Everyone stumbled with grief, even when it wasn't their own. Not to mention that he wasn't entirely
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convinced that was the only thing going on here – Ash was struggling with more than just what
Litten was going through.
So he focussed on that. It was hard, but he tried to remember what Ash had said before – about
letting Litten be strong on its own. He seemed determined, but why…? Or perhaps, as Ash had once
said, the why didn't matter. It was the how that was hurting. He had all but admitted he was still
learning how to take a step back from things.
There were a lot of different ways to help someone be strong.
"Ash," he said as he put down his empty plate. "I know you're trying to respect Litten's wishes, and
that you think it doesn't want your help right now. But I wonder if that's really the right thing."
He paused, turning his head slightly to show he was listening but not looking up.
"I understand what you're trying to do," he said gently. "Sometimes we make assumptions. Just like
you told me once – we try and force others to think, feel, and do things in ways that we think are
right, and that's… You were right; that's never a good thing. So I understand why you want to
respect Litten's wishes to be left alone. I do. But Ash, the thing is… just because somebody doesn't
think they need help, that doesn't always mean they don't. People are strong, yes, but even the
strongest people need help sometimes."
Ash quietly set down his plate, his head bowed and eyes almost shut, but he didn't say anything. So
Kukui dared to press a little harder.
"Those strong people… they get so used to dealing with things on their own that sometimes they
don't even realise they need help. So they won't ever ask for it," he said softly. "That's when we
need to help anyway."
"But I…" Ash actually curled in on himself a little, as if trying to hide from what he didn't want to
hear. His hands were curled into fists on his knees, pulling on the fabric. "I don't know how…"
Again, Kukui could empathise. He didn't know for sure what he was doing either. But he knew it
needed to be done. "I'm not sure anyone does. But we try, Ash. That's all we can do. If you want to
help—if there's something you want to do for Litten—then do it. Staying away like this, just worrying
from afar, that… it's not helping either of you."
Ash didn't immediately respond, just stayed still and silent for several long seconds that seemed to
stretch into hours. But eventually, he swallowed hard, and when he spoke, his voice was only a little
shaky. "I – I don't think it should be alone. I'd like to stay with it, a- at least until I know it's eaten
something. I just… I just want to see it's okay."
Kukui nodded quietly, watching for something he wasn't sure of. "Okay. But not tonight. Not in the
rain, not at night. Tonight, you sleep. Litten might need help, but I'm not letting you get sick over it,
understand?"
He smiled briefly, glancing up for a split second before going back to his lap. "Yeah, okay."
Despite Ash's promise to be back in time for dinner, Kukui had been all but certain he would have to
go and get the kid. So it was shocking when he got home from school to find Ash already there,
crouched in front of the pokebed with three bowls of pokechow, a lecturing RotomDex, and
fourhappily chattering pokemon.
"—should be fed a healthy diet rich in spices and hot berries," Rotom was in the middle of arguing.
"This will better feed the inner flame, building it up to be hotter. However, as Litten eventually
evolves into a fire/dark type, many trainers instead prefer to feed litten a heavier diet rich in red
meat and other proteins."
"Uhh… I don't know about that stuff," Ash said blankly. "Isn't it just the kind of stuff they like that's
better for them?"
"You like ice cream and french fries!" it pointed out, but Ash just stared back.
"So what?"
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"Ash," Kukui interrupted, and they all turned around. The newest addition to the group glared at
him, and Kukui stared back, trying not to make assumptions.
"Oh, hey Professor!" Ash said brightly. "Welcome home! How was school?"
"Fine," he said. "I didn't expect to see you so soon."
He grinned and gathered Litten into his arms before standing up. "We got back a little while ago. But
look, Professor! Litten decided to join my team! We had a battle and everything! It's so strong!"
"Really," he said slowly, and then bent down to meet its gaze a little easier. "Welcome, Litten. I'm
glad to see you're feeling better."
It blinked, then gave what was unmistakably a crooked feline smile and snuggled a little closer to
Ash's chest. "Mrrow."
"We'll get through things together," Ash said, and then turned as if to show off the food. "Even the
simple stuff, like figuring out what kind of pokechow Litten likes. Rotom says I shouldn't feed all my
pokemon the same type, but they all seem to like it no matter what I give them, so I don't get the
problem."
"It's not about liking things!" Rotom complained, and Kukui couldn't help but chuckle a little as he
straightened up.
"No, but pokechow is pretty nutritionally balanced, so it really does come down to taste," he said.
"Though I have to say, I was a little surprised when Rowlet liked the same food as Pikachu and
Rockruff."
Ash grinned. "I'm not. Pokechow's super tasty no matter what kind you get, right guys?" Ash called
over his shoulder, and the other three cheered. Kukui did a double-take, surprised to see Rowlet
looking so alert when it wasn't a battle, but Ash's smile only softened a little when he noticed Kukui's
look. "Everyone's really happy that Litten joined the team. So we're all pitching in to make sure it
settles in okay."
"I see," he said, still staring for a moment before he was able to focus on Ash. He definitely seemed
happier. But that was the thing about Ash, wasn't it? He always bounced back impossibly fast,
especially when there were pokemon to see it. Kukui knew it should worry him, but with Ash's easy
smile and obvious enthusiasm…
He felt relief beating down any concerns he might have still had, and wound up smiling with a shake
of his head. "Well, I'm glad to see it. You let me know if there's anything I can do to help."
"Sure thing, Professor!"
They went back to the food, and Rotom went back to explaining the benefits of different diets, so
Kukui shrugged, accepting that he would just be in the way if he stuck around. But he'd barely
passed the kitchen when Ash called for him again.
He turned, and the kid finished hurrying over to stand in front of him, an unreadable smile on his
face.
"About last night," he began, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Sorry about how I was acting. I let
myself get carried away again, huh?"
Kukui blinked, and then frowned. "I wouldn't say that. It's not an easy problem to deal with."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't be better at it," he said. "So I wanted to say thanks. For
puttin' up with me, and sayin' the stuff you did. It really helped."
"I'm beginning to feel like I've been hit by an Encore, but again," he said, brow furrowing slightly,
"anytime, Ash. It's not even a hassle."
Ash closed his eyes in a self-deprecating laugh and shrug. "I better get back. I just wanted to say that
– sorry, and thanks. I'll be better next time."
He opened his mouth to argue the point, but Ash was already trotting away, and so was the
moment. He let his hand drop with a soft sigh and turned away.
It seemed he had other things to focus on anyway.
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Lesson Seven: Purposeful omissions

Living on the beach, there were risks Kukui knew he was taking, and he was always prepared. Heavy
rain, strong tides, crumbling sandstone – he had plans to cope with anything.
But a giant palossand collapsing over his house and burying it in sand… not so high on his list of
anticipated risks.
And yet, somehow, that was exactly what had just happened.
It had taken him a long time to get over his shock, which Ash had quietly spent starting clean up and
trying to make himself and Rockruff look as innocent as possible. Kukui spent a few more minutes
debating whether this would be the thing that made him snap (because while there was no way
anyone could have guessed this would happen, it was Ash's fault, and most people would be angry
about it), but he knew it was mostly a subconscious procrastination tactic to avoid actually cleaning
up.
A tactic that was almost immediately followed by another one – this one about how he just could
not deal with this without food, and since their kitchen was currently under two feet of sand, that
meant another night out. Ash agreed but refused to let him pay, which certainly helped smooth over
Kukui's still quietly boiling temper.
They swung by the lab on the way home, since Kukui was pretty sure they would probably need at
least a second vacuum and there was an industrial one in the lab closet.
"So this is where you work when you're not teaching?" Ash asked as they stepped out of the
elevator. In typical fashion, the lights were all still on and several members of his team were present
– most of them staring blindly at their computer screens. Ash still looked around in genuine interest.
"Yeah. It's a good place to collect data in a controlled environment. And it's good to get some
feedback from other professors sometimes," he added absently. He noticed Artocarpus watching
from the corner of his eye and smiled, taking Ash's shoulder to guide him over. "Hey, Arty. Working
late?"
"As ever. What are you doing here?" he asked, swinging his chair around to face them.
"It's a long story, but mostly I just need to borrow a vacuum. Let me introduce you two," he began,
but Artocarpus cut him off by extending a hand to Ash.
"Professor Artocarpus. You must be Ash Ketchum."
"Uh, yeah," he said, and stared at the offer in typical Kantonese fashion before awkwardly taking it
to shake. He used the other hand to point at Pikachu on his shoulder. "And this is my partner,
Pikachu."
"Pi-kachu!" it greeted happily, while Rotom flew around to get in the way.
"And I am RotomDex!"
"I know," Artocarpus said lazily. "I was there when Kukui picked up your casing. How are you finding
it?"
"It is most excellent!"
At Ash's still slightly awkward look, Kukui explained, "Professor Artocarpus studies pokemon that
don't learn moves, or those that sacrifice moves for other abilities."
"Oh, like Meowth," Ash said, and Kukui raised an eyebrow. Most meowths had full move-sets, so
presumably he was talking about Team Rocket's Meowth specifically. It could talk, after all… had that
stunted its moves? He opened his mouth to ask, but Ash had already turned back to Artocarpus.
"That's kind of like what Professor Kukui is looking into, with how pokemon can only learn four
moves at a time."
"It's a related question," Artocarpus confirmed. "All of the professors here work toward a similar
goal – it's what makes us a research team."
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"That's really cool," he said warmly. "So what do you count as a move? Like, does Scratch count if all
they're doing is actually scratching? My Litten knows Scratch but it doesn't cut very deep, so I'm not
sure if it counts as a move."
"That's one of the parameters I'm trying to define," Artocarpus said, and Kukui closed his mouth.
Obviously he would just be interrupting if he asked now. So he turned away, mildly annoyed when
neither of the other two noticed.
"I… guess I'll go get that vacuum," he said, for apparently no reason in particular, and headed off. He
hadn't even made it to her workstation before Cassia jumped up and fell into step beside him.
"So that's your kid, huh?"
"My boarder," he corrected. He was not encouraging the Papa Kukui thing that had already spread
throughout most of the team.
"He's younger than I expected. Cute, too. Like a rockruff."
He smirked but didn't bother responding to that. He wondered what Cassia would think of how Ash
had trained said puppy.
"So, anyway," she said, as if she were changing the subject they weren't really talking about, "Do you
mind if I ask him something?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Ash? Of course not, but what do you have to ask?"
"Well, he was at the Kalos Conference the other month, right?"
He blinked, then nodded awkwardly. Honestly, he'd kind of forgotten – he kept meaning to ask
about Ash's experiences with the League and never got around to it. But Cassia was the one who
usually tracked down conference footage for them to study, so it probably wasn't surprising that was
her first concern.
"Since the League claims all their footage was lost in the Crisis, I've been trying to find amateur
videos or accounts instead," she said. "I've even been trawling through pokevision, so please
appreciate my sacrifice."
Kukui snickered. Pokevision was home to far too few battle footage videos and far too many battle-
review vlogs, with inexperienced trainers offering highly flawed opinions of the work done by
professionals. And the few battle footage videos you could find were usually pretty shaky and often
at bad angles. But when desperate, researchers made do. And Cassia was pretty desperate.
"Maybe I'm getting paranoid, but every time I check my search results, I swear there are less of
them. I'm not getting anywhere," she said. "So I thought, since the website says Ash Ketchum was
there, he might be able to give me a personal account. It's better than nothing, right?"
He paused, an admittedly bitter part of him inclined to wish her good luck getting a straight answer
out of the kid. But when it came to battle, he thought she'd probably encounter a different problem.
"Well, you can ask," he said slowly, "but Ash isn't exactly the best at explaining things. You will likely
get a lot of enthusiasm and onomatopoeia and not much else."
"Onomatopoeia…? What do you mean?"
"What it sounds like. But by all means, give it a shot."
She gave him a look but didn't press, and Kukui was allowed to get to the storage cupboard and its
industrial vacuum cleaner in peace. By the time they got back to Artocarpus's desk, it was to find him
and Rotom looking aggravated, Ash staring blankly, and both Pikachu and Artocarpus's delibird
happily circling Ash's feet like he was a maypole.
"But things don't 'just happen'. There needs to be some evolutionary causation," Artocarpus was
trying to explain as they came close.
"Uhh…" Ash only looked blanker at the terminology, so Rotom translated.
"A scientific reason."
"Oh. Well… growing up's a scientific thing, right? So maybe that's what it is. They're focussed on
growing more than battling."
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"That's not how pokemon work," Artocarpus snapped. "If that was the case, then every pokemon
with a non-mineral evolution remaining would retain an empty move-slot."
"Uhh…"
"When you don't use an external source to evolve," Kukui interjected to explain. "Like an evolution
stone or the energies of specific areas. Arty is saying that if whatever you were saying is true, then
Rockruff, for example, would never know more than three moves until it becomes Lycanroc."
"Oh! Yeah, I guess that does make sense," Ash said blankly, and then did a double-take as he noticed
the vacuum. "Whoa! That thing is huge!"
"Pikaaa!" Pikachu agreed, stumbling to a stop in order to stare, and Delibird nearly tripped over it,
both of them wobbling into Ash and forcing him to grab the desk to stay upright.
Kukui paused to make sure he was okay before responding. "Well, we often have a lot of feathers
and fur to clean up in here. It should handle the sand alright though."
He hesitated again, noticing Artocarpus was still frowning. But Kukui could recognise the look – he
often felt the same way after one of Ash's overly simple explanations hit a chord of scientific logic. It
could be incredibly frustrating, especially when you woke up the next day with a new and tangible
hypothesis to test.
"Hi there," Cassia said, interrupting the moment with her usual welcoming smile. "You must be Ash.
I'm Professor Cassia."
"Oh. Hi," he said. "Nice to meet you."
"You were in the Kalos League, weren't you?" she asked. "I was wondering if you might be interested
in telling me about it."
It was mildly curious, the way Ash's polite smile faded very slightly at the request. But he sounded as
cheerful as ever as he said, "Um, sure! What did you want to know?"
"Well, as much as you can tell me, really," she said. "Do you have a free afternoon this week? I'd
really love to be able to interview you properly."
"This week isn't so great," Kukui interjected. "The school's open house is coming up, so we'll both be
pretty busy."
"Both?" Ash repeated, looking all the more concerned. "Do you need to be there too, Professor?"
He blinked, then frowned as both Cassia and Artocarpus looked at him sideways with matching
smiles that… usually preceded another 'Papa Kukui' comment. Because his assumption that he
needed to be there had probably sounded more like something a guardian would do than a
researcher. He lifted a hand in a move that was perhaps more flail than defence.
"Hey, I study battle too, y'know! In fact, as the Pokemon Professor here, if anyone should be
investigating League events, it's me! Of course I should be there!"
"Uh huh," Artocarpus drawled, while Ash stared.
"Investigating? Officer Jenny said that was all finished," he said blankly. "Why are you doing more?
Did something happen?"
They stared back at him, suddenly lost, but Ash just gazed back in equal confusion. What did Officer
Jenny have to do with the Kalos League Conference? Maybe he was talking about something else.
They'd apparently passed each other by somewhere in this conversation.
"Well… uh… I guess we should get going," Kukui said, deciding to take advantage of the confusion
and avoid any more opportunities for him to make a fool of himself. "Lots of cleaning to do after all."
"Right," Ash agreed, and Pikachu scrambled up his back in an apparent rush to get them all out of
the lab as quickly as possible.
While it may have been an excuse, Kukui soon realised just how honest he'd been in claiming they
had lots of cleaning to do. They spent a solid two hours just on the loft, making sure Ash had
somewhere to sleep. Luckily, Kukui's own bedroom and the bathroom had been shielded by closed
doors, so aside from what had crept under the gap they were completely sand-free.
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But most of the house was still in shambles the next day, so Kukui called in to the school to report he
and Ash weren't coming in. They instead spent the day digging themselves out and vacuuming until
they were finally free of sand – or, at least, as much as they usually were, given the location of the
house.
"Oh, man," Ash announced as he turned off the vacuum cleaner one last time. "And to think, I used
to complain when Mom and Mr Mime yelled at me for tracking dirt in the house."
"It certainly puts things in perspective," agreed Kukui. "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to make another
Sand Attack pun without thinking of all this."
"No way, I can't believe it," he said, throwing a cheeky glance over his shoulder. "I've heard you on a
pun Sandstorm professor! No little Sand Tombcan Sand Force your puns down!"
Pikachu groaned loudly, while Kukui smiled approvingly. "Nice."
He grinned and went back to the vacuum, unplugging it and preparing to empty the bag in what had
become a very practised movement. "But seriously, I am never complaining about having to wipe my
feet again. Remind me to apologise to Mr Mime when we get home."
"Pikachu," Pikachu sighed, and Kukui slanted a look at it. It and Rockruff had begun the day digging
alongside he and Ash, but hadn't really been doing much more than playing around, and while
Rockruff had been returned after most of the sand was dumped outside, Pikachu had perched on the
couch to join Rotom in 'supervising'.
Still, Kukui could empathise. He'd been using a hand-vacuum on the basement stairs and he was so
far beyond done that it wasn't funny anymore. But at least the house was clean, they'd moved most
of the sand back down to the beach, and they hadn't overfilled the rubbish bin with vacuumed
waste. He considered this a success, pokemon supervisors or no.
He collapsed on the couch next to Pikachu, both of them watching wearily as Ash poured his final
bag-full into the rubbish bin. "Mr Mime… that's a psychic pokemon, isn't it?"
"And fairy-type. But we didn't know that for ages – I didn't even know fairy was a type until last
year," he said, and Kukui grunted.
"That's right. Most regions didn't acknowledge the fairy-type until recently. It's a little sad, since it
implies none of them ever saw a sylveon."
"I still don't get what makes Eevee evolve into Sylveon," he said as he wandered over to join them
on the couch. "I get that Umbreon and Espeon have something to do with love and the time of day,
but how is Sylveon any different?"
"It is a different cause entirely!" Rotom objected. "Umbreon and Espeon are related to friendship,
while Sylveon is evolved from affection!"
Ash didn't look any more enlightened by this information, so Kukui shook his head and tried to
explain.
"Those are the scientific terms," he said, waving Rotom off to leave him to this one – he doubted Ash
would be able to follow Rotom's analysis on this topic. "What we call 'friendship' in pokemon science
is a technical term used to qua- uh, measure something similar to trust. Affection is a little more like
'happiness' or simply satisfaction with how a pokemon is treated by their trainer."
Ash scratched the back of his neck, still confused. "But shouldn't all pokemon that trust their trainers
be happy with them, too?"
"That would be nice, wouldn't it?" he asked, once again struck by how different Ash was from the
trainers he'd once met in Kanto. "But think about it, Ash. In your travels, you must have seen a lot of
very well trained, powerful pokemon. And you've probably seen some very pampered and spoiled
pokemon. Do you really think they all have the same kind of relationship with their trainers?"
Ash paused, then lowered his eyes to the table, obviously thinking it through. "Now you mention it,
I've seen some pokemon that would do anything for their trainers, even when their trainers are
really horrible to them. From what you're saying, in pokemon science that'd be called friendship?"
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"That's right," he admitted, and then grimaced. "It does put a slightly darker twist on the word,
doesn't it?"
He frowned but didn't comment, and Pikachu scampered over to crawl into his lap. He scratched
behind its ear to make it chirrup happily, and then looked back up at Kukui. "And there are some
people who pretend to love someone, but don't actually respect them or trust them. But the other
person likes the attention anyway, so… that'd be affection?"
Kukui winced again. It was the scientific definition, but Ash was making it sound a lot more toxic than
it should have been. "That's… one way to look at it. It's usually less insidious than that."
"Insid…?"
"Sinister… uh, cruel," he translated. "The love is usually more genuine – it's just less based in trust
than what a pokemon scientist would call 'friendship'."
Ash still didn't look entirely happy with the explanation, but left it there, instead focussing his
attention on Pikachu, who leaned a little harder into his hands and hummed happily. Eventually, Ash
smiled too, and looked up at Kukui again with easy eyes. "Figuring out all this stuff must've been
super hard, huh? I always just figured pokemon evolve when they're ready!"
"It can be a difficult area to study," Kukui admitted. "But it's a big field, currently spearheaded by
Professors Rowan and Sycamore. Rowan actually accepts assistants based on their ability to present
theories or new analyses on evolutionary patterns."
"Their what?"
He chuckled. Ash didn't seem tired physically, but given how poorly he was following language he
usually coped with, the kid must have been exhausted. "He'll take someone as a new assistant if they
can tell him something interesting about pokemon evolution."
"Really?" Ash asked curiously. "I wonder what Gary did."
"Gary?" he repeated, before the name registered. "Oh, that's right. You know Gary Oak, don't you?"
"Yeah. He was my best friend growing up," he explained. "But he studies fossils and stuff. I always
thought it was weird that he signed on to help Professor Rowan."
"Well, if you look into the past, you can sometimes understand the future," he said diplomatically.
He'd never really understood the appeal of archaeology, even when it led to the reanimation of
extinct pokemon. Let the poor things rest and focus on the now, in his opinion. "And those old
pokemon often lived before we really had 'trainers', so it probably gives an excellent insight into how
pokemon live without humans."
"You think? I dunno, every time I see stuff from the past, humans and pokemon seem pretty close,
no matter how far back you go."
He shrugged. Unlike some professors, he didn't really care about history. Unless it was related to
moves or battle, he wasn't all that interested.
Besides, this was all getting a bit too detailed for him. He had just spent seven straight hours
cleaning. He was mostly interested in how long it would take for his body to physically meld with the
couch cushions. And also whether he could justify getting take-out twice in two days just so he didn't
have to cook dinner. Maybe he'd send Ash to Mallow's family's cafe – they at least had something
resembling healthy food on the menu.
Days later, he berated himself for it, but for now, he just let the conversation sink into tired silence,
unconcerned with definitions of friendship, affection, or even what Ash knew about pokemon from
ancient history. It was just another mystery to add to the pile.
Meeting Ash's mother in person was an… interesting experience. And kind of hilarious.
"Mom, seriously, you don't need to tell this story," Ash groaned, burying his face in his palm. It had
spent a lot of time there so far, and Delia seemed to take a kind of pride in getting it that way.
"It shows how much you've grown!" she said cheerfully, before clapping her hands and turning back
to Kukui. "He ran all the way to Professor Oak's laboratory in his pyjamas! And of course the whole
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town was there to see the new trainers off. Thinking about it, it's lucky he was that dressed – he
used to just sleep in his underwear on hot nights—"
"Mom!"
Kukui bit his lip. It would not help to laugh. It would not help at all.
"—so I had to gather everything together and follow after him. He and Pikachu were such a mess
when I found them. He must have made Pikachu very cross. It only knew thundershock at that point,
but it hit him quite a bit, he was looking very burned."
"Pikachu…" Pikachu mumbled, looking almost as embarrassed as its trainer, who was starting to look
in real danger of bursting a blood vessel.
"Oh, and then when he tried to put Pikachu in its pokeball! It was adorable! Pikachu kept batting it
away with its tail, like they were playing catch!" she continued cheerfully. "Until Pikachu hit him in
the head with it! Served him right, of course, not listening to his pokemon! And you should have
seen the way they left town. Ash had to take my rubber gloves and he had a rope around Pikachu
since it refused to walk on its own!"
Pikachu curled into Ash's hip, obviously humiliated by the memory, while Ash sighed loudly. "Yeah,
okay, Mom, I was a lousy trainer on my first day, we get it –"
"But then he called me from Viridian City that night!" she said. "I was so proud of my little boy!
Though you were even more of a mess then than you were when you left. You never did tell me
what happened. I should ask Misty…"
"No!" he yelped. "No, that's okay Mom. We just met Misty and there was that little accident with her
bike and it was no big deal!"
It was absolutely a big deal, Kukui could tell. But he kept that thought to himself with a sneaky grin.
He would let Ash have what little dignity he could around his mother.
"Oh, that's right! Pikachu used to have such a bad habit with bikes," Delia said, before smiling
pleasantly. "It's just as well that's all behind it, isn't it?"
Ash rolled his eyes, only to catch sight of Rotom in the movement and jerk slightly. He immediately
grinned and snatched up his notes. "You know, as much fun as this is, I really should get back to
work on my presentation for tomorrow."
"Pika?" Pikachu stared at him blankly for a few seconds, looked at Delia, and then hurriedly jumped
up and onto Ash's shoulder. "Pika! Pika pi pikachu, Pikapi!"
"Right! So uh, we'll just, you know, go do that," he said, and forcefully grabbed Rotom out of the air
before hightailing it for the loft.
Kukui snickered. "So it's true – even the nicest kids can't handle their parents' embarrassing stories."
"It's a handy trick for getting rid of them," Delia confided, and when he looked at her, she winked.
"Now he's gone, I can really ask you how he's doing. He's been a little preoccupied for a while now,
but he really perked up while we were here on vacation. I wanted to see if he was still doing well."
"Ash?" Kukui glanced up at loft before going back to her. "I think so. He's a good kid, and usually
really happy and energetic. But I think there's a lot he doesn't tell me."
"Mm… he used to have a friend that travelled with him most places. It seems like ever since Brock
went off to study, Ash has been keeping more and more to himself," she said, and then sighed. "Oh
well, all things considered, I suppose it's only to be expected."
"Puberty is never a fun time for anyone," Kukui said slowly, but Delia's blink and following awkward
laugh didn't reassure him much.
"That either. How's he doing at school? I was a little worried – he's never really been much for
academics."
"No, and he does struggle a little," he admitted. "But he really excels in practical lessons, and he's
really become a big part of the class. He's even been helping my colleagues and me with our
research, in his own way."
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"Oh, good. I much prefer it when he's doing work for a professor," she said. "You don't get him into
nearly as much trouble."
"I don't know about that. Ash sure seems to find it anyway," he said, and frowned. "Speaking of
which, are you at all familiar with Team Rocket?"
"Team Rocket?" she repeated, then huffed and turned to call up at the loft. "Ash Ketchum! You and
Team Rocket aren't making trouble for the professor, are you?"
"No, Mom!" he called back, sounding very much like a teenager insisting he wasn't throwing wild
parties. "I barely even see them here!"
"Because I heard about what you did to Professor Sycamore's lab!"
He poked his head up over the railing, offended. "That was so not my fault! Any of it!" he cried, then
pulled back with a disgruntled look. "How did you hear about that?"
"Well, the professors do talk to each other, dear," she pointed out. "And you know I have Professor
Oak over for dinner once a week."
Kukui pushed down a wave of envy over the idea of having so many chances to talk to the Pokemon
Professor, and then had to make his mental way past the realisation that Ash also apparently knew
Professor Sycamore (did the kid collect renowned Pokemon Professors, or what?), to instead focus
on the point, "Wait, so you do know about Team Rocket?"
"Of course. But don't worry, my Ash is very good at handling them," she said cheerfully, before
shooting another sharp look at Ash. "I hope you're not letting them interrupt everyone's schoolwork,
either."
"Like I said, I barely even see them here," he said. "Besides, there's a bewear that seems to have
caught them. I don't think they've got time for me lately."
"Well, that's alright then," she said, before going back to Kukui. "They can be very annoying. And
Ashy-boy always falls for their tricks! The amount of times they've been wearing disguises and he
doesn't even notice –"
"You don't notice either!" Ash cried, but she didn't even look at him.
"Yes, but dear, I don't battle them nearly every day."
He groaned and moved back out of view, while Delia smiled like this was the intended outcome.
Kukui tried not to gape, not sure whether to be more concerned that she thought Ash dealt with
Team Rocket all the time, or that she didn't seem to think it was a problem.
In fact, it was apparently so minor a problem that she didn't feel the need to discuss it any further,
instead changing the subject. "So, what kind of research does Ash help you with? He tells me you
study pokemon moves. That must be a very exciting field!"
He looked down and around at the pokemon surrounding them, but didn't find any equally
perplexed expressions. So he could only look at Delia, begin to realise just where some of Ash's more
concerning habits came from, and try to move on.
Maybe he was just missing something.
The three of them went out for dinner, Ash energetically telling his mother all about the pokemon
school and his friends. She seemed happy to hear about it, though she did interrupt at one point to
ask if he missed the road.
"Yeah, a little. It gets a little boring seeing the same skyline every day," he said, before wincing
apologetically. "Uh, no offence, Professor."
"None taken," he said with a grin. He remembered the lure of the horizon all too well. "Travel gets
into your blood."
"Yeah, kinda," he said, and went back to his mother. "But I'm learning a lot, and I'm really loving it
here. The people are so nice and warm, and everyone lives and works with pokemon so well…" He
took another mouthful of food, chewed and swallowed, and then said, "I mean, I really miss battling.
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You don't see a lot of battle trainers here, and so I don't feel like I'm pushing myself a lot. But this
region is so great, and I wake up every day just waiting to see what new thing I'll find out about it!"
"That's wonderful, honey," she said warmly. "It sounds like just what you needed."
Kukui glanced at her, but Ash just grinned and carried on. He wondered if it had anything to do with
what she'd alluded to before – whatever it was Ash apparently kept to himself. As dinner continued
and turned into the evening, and then breakfast, he debated talking to her about it. She didn't seem
that worried, and she and Ash appeared pretty close for people that apparently didn't see each
other more than a few times a year. So it wasn't like she was likely to be just shrugging off something
she should have been upset about.
But at the same time, she did seem to know there was something going on. Something more than
Team Rocket. As paranoid as it made him feel, he was beginning to think she and Ash were
purposefully keeping him in the dark about whatever it was.
He was still worrying about it after the Open House had officially come to a close and they were back
home, when Ash's mother went out to watch the sunset with Mr Mime. Ash and Pikachu eventually
followed her, and Kukui stepped out to lean in the doorway. He didn't normally bother with the
sunset he could see every day, but it was a nice way to distract himself from his thoughts for a
moment.
Everything was silent beyond the wind and waves for a few minutes, until Delia's soft voice broke
the quiet.
"I really am glad you're doing so well. I was worried about you."
"About me?" Ash asked curiously, and she nodded without looking at him.
"You left so quickly to get to Kalos, and then you came home so soon after the league there," she
said. "And then it was like you didn't want to go anywhere at all. You didn't have any plans, or seem
interested in any of the leagues… it seemed so unlike you."
Pikachu had been watching her, but as Ash turned his head back toward the sunset, it instead shifted
its attention to him. Neither of them said anything.
"And with how little you told me about the conference, even though you had that gold medal…" she
said softly, and Kukui raised an eyebrow. Gold medals were usually only given out to winners, and he
was almost positive Ash had said he'd lost the final. But Delia was already continuing on. "I know
you're always fine, Ash, and you know I don't mean to pry. But a mother is allowed to worry."
"Mime-mime, mister mime!" Mr Mime added pointedly, but Ash barely shifted to look at it, and
Delia's shoulders rose and fell in a sigh.
"You know I'm proud of you, and everything you do," she said, "but it's just so nice that you're
getting the chance to have some fun. I hope it stays like this for you."
Ash shifted awkwardly for a second. "We always have fun. Right, Pikachu?"
"Pika," it said quietly.
"You know what I mean," she chided them gently, and then reached out, curling her arm around
Pikachu so she could grab Ash's shoulder and pull him into a sideways hug. "Is it really so much to
ask that the world take care of itself for a few months, so my boy can relax and enjoy himself?"
"Mo-om," he whined, practically dripping wounded dignity, but he didn't pull away. After a moment,
he even lifted his own arm to wrap around her waist too. "Thanks. Sorry I always make you worry."
"Miss-mister mime!" Mr Mime objected, and both Ash and Delia's shoulders lifted with their grins.
"Sorry to you too, Mr Mime," he said playfully. "Thanks for looking after my mom."
The small family fell silent again, and Kukui folded his arms over his chest, quietly deciding there was
definitely something he hadn't been told, and almost definitely something he was being kept out of.
But for the first time, he wondered if maybe it would be better for Ash if he let it stay that way.
Generally speaking, Kukui preferred to take his breaks out of the classroom, even when he was
working through them. But his whole class had been acting strangely this past week, so he had
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decided to spend lunch grading papers at his desk while the kids ate their lunch. Ash had been pretty
closed-mouthed about the whole thing at home, so spying seemed like the best option.
But nothing seemed out of the ordinary. They'd pushed their desks together so they were eating in a
quasi-circle, and were all acting perfectly normal, though Sophocles still looked embarrassed about
something.
Ah, who knew? Maybe it was some pre-teen hormonal thing. It was about time they had some
emotional drama, after all.
"I don't think it's lying," Ash was saying confidently, when he tuned back into the conversation.
"Lying means you're actually saying something different to what the actual truth is."
"Yeah. This is just not saying something," added Lillie. "It's not your fault if people don't ask directly."
"No way, it counts," Mallow insisted. "Because you're letting someone believe something that's not
true."
"And we did ask," Kiawe added with a playful jab at Sophocles' shoulder.
He jerked, his lunch nearly going everywhere in his overreaction, before he winced. "Hey, come
on…!"
"But if you think that's lying, then how far does it go?" asked Ash. "I mean, what about the first
couple of days? When we didn't know what was wrong? I really don't think that was lying."
"That was absolutely lying!" Mallow cried. "Because we kept asking what was wrong and he said
nothing was!"
"I don't think that was what Ash meant," Lillie pointed out. "You mean before then, right? When he
knew but didn't tell us?"
"It was kind of lying," Sophocles admitted awkwardly. "I felt pretty bad about it."
"So is that the difference?" asked Ash. "Whether you feel bad about it or not?"
Mallow scrunched up her face. "I don't think so. After all, Lana's the biggest liar I know and she never
feels bad."
Having been quietly eating her lunch, Lana winked and stuck out her tongue in silent agreement
before going back to her food.
"Ughh, this is too complicated," Ash groaned, pushing away his lunch box so he could bury his head
in his desk. "I give up."
"It's not complicated. You just don't get it because you're an honest person!" Mallow teased,
reaching over to shove at his head. "You couldn't keep a secret if your life depended on it."
Considering everything he knew about the kid, Kukui looked up from under his hat to check Ash's
reaction. As expected, he only shifted his head so he could see, no guilt or even a hint of a shameful
grin on his face.
"You think?"
"Yeah! It's no wonder Lillie doesn't get it either, because she's too sweet to lie," Mallow continued,
before raising her eyebrows at Kiawe. "I'm kind of surprised you get it. You're the most honest
person I know!"
"I can lie!" he insisted, and there was a long beat as even Ash stared at him in silent disbelief. He
frowned, pulling back in offended dignity. "I can absolutely lie! Like, uh… well, listen to this: my little
sister is not the cutest little girl in all of Alola."
The silence stretched, though some of their expressions had gone from disbelief to mild disgust.
Especially when Kiawe broke into a goofy smile and added, "She's the cutest little girl in the whole
world!"
Ash and Lillie laughed awkwardly, while Mallow and Sophocles groaned and Lana continued chewing
her sandwich in judgemental silence.
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"I think Ash and Kiawe can totally lie," Sophocles said, lifting a finger, "They do it all the time in
pokemon battles. It's like when you play card games, right? So your opponent doesn't know when
you're planning something."
"What are you talking about?" Ash asked as he pushed himself upright and picked up an apple slice
to munch on. "That's not about lying or telling the truth. It's just how it is. It'd make for a pretty
weird battle if opponents kept yelling strategies across the field at each other."
"You mean that's not what you're doing when you call out attack names?" asked Lillie, making Lana
snicker.
"Besides, near as I can tell Ash doesn't have strategies," Kiawe added in a deadpan. "If he told
everyone his plans, it'd constantly be something like 'thunderbolt and then I don't know yet'."
Lana kept snickering. Ash ignored them both. "If that's lying then people are lying all the time. I
mean, it's not like people do stuff for no reason. Just because they don't tell you why they do
everything they do, that doesn't mean they're lying about it."
"That's right!" Lillie agreed, a little more emphatically than the situation really called for. "Just
because you have secrets, that doesn't mean not telling them is the same as a lie."
It was an interesting way to phrase it, and the kids all noticed, causing them to stare a little. She
blushed, and then ducked her head, fiddling awkwardly with her fingers. "I mean… you know… in
theory."
As the silence stretched, Kukui pursed his lips, debating whether he should intervene. The
conversation might have started innocently enough, but it was clearly hitting a bit too close to Lillie's
coping mechanism of pretending things were fine when they weren't. But before he could decide
what he'd do about that, Ash groaned loudly again, distracting everyone by throwing up his hands.
"Argh, seriously, this is too complicated! At this rate I'm gonna spend my whole life wondering
whether I'm lying or not! Why does it matter, anyway?"
"Exactly," Lana piped up, closing her eyes imperiously. "Not knowing what's real or not makes life a
lot more fun, anyway."
"That's true, isn't it?" Mallow admitted. "Knowing everything can really take the magic out of things,
can't it?"
"Yeah," Kiawe agreed. "Like that pool I showed you the other day, Sophocles. You might like to know
the chemicals and stuff, but I'm just happy knowing that such a beautiful thing exists. I don't need to
know why."
"I guess so," he said, and then grinned at Lillie. "I might like to know stuff, but it's a lot more fun
learning about cool things than it is just getting the information straight out."
"Like getting to know a friend," Mallow added. "It's not the information you find out, it's the journey
you take to get there, and the memories you have after that count."
Lillie pulled her fists up to her chest, staring around at everyone with shining eyes, and then smiled
broadly and bounced her head in an emphatic nod. "Right! Thank you, everyone!"
The group all grinned at each other, basking in the glow of a reaffirmed friendship, before Sophocles
happily changed the subject onto the house he was staying in this week. Still watching from beneath
his hat, Kukui looked over his students one by one, before finally ending up on Ash.
Lying or hiding something… Maybe the kids were onto something.
He hadn't been lying when he told Delia he enjoyed having Ash stay with him. The kid was like a
breath of fresh air; even when his misadventures complicated life more than any sane person could
put up with, it was so incredibly fun that Kukui actually found himself looking forward to the next
one. And those harder moments… the times when Ash would go quiet, or screw himself up in knots,
or look so very shocked that someone was actually concerned about his feelings… Kukui wouldn't
give them up either. He wasn't sure what, but even as Ash kept his secrets, Kukui still felt like he was
learning something invaluable with each and every moment.
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He'd spent so much time lately trying to figure Ash out. Trying to work out what made him tick –
what he wasn't telling people. And it was so frustrating, because every time he tried, no matter who
he asked or how, he just ran into a brick wall.
Maybe it was frustration he didn't need. Maybe he should just accept it all for what it was.
Life had certainly been a lot more fun lately.
An episodic interlude
Ash looked entirely perplexed by the concept of permission slips.
"But… we're just going to Akala," he said, staring at the signature line. "It's literally the next island
over. Kiawe flies there every day."
"Yes, and he has permission from his parents to do so," Kukui explained, amused in a way he knew
he shouldn't have been.
"We're only going for a week."
"It's still time away. This is to make sure that everyone's parents know where their children are."
Ash lifted his eyes to Kukui, looking even blanker. "Do I need to get my mom to sign?"
"No, you're different," he said with a grin. "For one thing, by giving permission for you to live with
me, your mother essentially signed guardianship to me, so I would only really need to get permission
from myself for you to go."
"Oh… Okay…"
"For another, according to International Law, a fully licensed pokemon trainer such as yourself is
bound by the age laws of their home region," he pointed out. "As long as you remain a fully licensed
pokemon trainer, you're an adult and responsible for your own wellbeing. So really, the only
permission you need is your own."
There was a beat, and Kukui immediately regretted pointing that out. Despite the fact that Ash was
probably more than aware of it already, he somehow felt he'd just damaged some future argument
he was going to make, so he added, "But that doesn't mean you can just do whatever you want.
Remember, part of going to school is that you're agreeing to be part of the school group. I need to
know where you are and what you're doing at all times."
"What? Oh, yeah, sure," he said vaguely, and Kukui sighed. Now he was definitely going to lose Ash
somewhere on Akala. But he seemed to have already lost the argument, because Ash was suddenly
frowning, his eyes locked on the middle distance in front of him. After another moment, he looked
up and over at the door, then twisted around toward the balcony, like he was expecting someone to
come in. Sitting on his shoulder as always, Pikachu leaned around to stare at its trainer.
"Pika pika?"
When Ash didn't immediately answer, Kukui raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"
"N-no…" He paused again, and then slowly turned back to the permission slip, only to almost
immediately look up again, brow furrowing further.
"Ash?" Rotom was the one to call this time. "Are you confused about guardianship rules? I can
explain them to you in detail if you require!"
"What?" he asked absently, before he blinked and turned back. Then he made a face. "No, I'm fine,
thanks, Rotom. I just forgot that it's different for people here. That's so weird. Does that mean that if
I went somewhere with Kiawe and something happened, I'd be responsible for him? Like, for Officer
Jenny and stuff?"
"Technically," Kukui said with a grin. "I don't know if anyone would hold you to it, though."
"So weird," he said again, and then suddenly flinched so violently that his eyes clenched shut, and he
made a slightly choked noise when they opened.
By the time Kukui realised what he was doing, his hand was hovering over Ash's shoulder and he was
halfway leaning down into the kid's personal space. "Ash? What's wrong? Does something hurt?"
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He glanced up at him, mouth set in a surprisingly hard line, before he silently turned and walked
over to the balcony. Pikachu murmured to him quietly, but Ash just muttered back that it shouldn't
worry, focussed on something in the courtyard. Exchanging nervous glances, Kukui and Rotom
hurried after him, and followed his gaze down to where Principal Oak was chatting with one of the
teachers, a pokemon crouched between them and warily looking around the courtyard.
"See the lucario?" Ash asked Pikachu, who made a noise of understanding.
Kukui glanced at them, mildly confused, but Rotom was already on a roll, "Lucario, the Aura
pokemon. Not only does it perceive auras, but it has also gained the power to control them. It
employs them in –"
"Uh oh," Ash said suddenly, and grabbed Kukui by the arm. That was all the warning he got before
getting violently yanked out of the way, mere seconds before something blue slammed into the
balcony railing in front of them.
"What the he—?!" Kukui yelped, but Ash was already dragging him back into the classroom.
"That was an Aura Sphere!" Rotom cried. "It is a special fighting move, and the signature move of
Lucario! It is created –"
"Not now, Rotom!" Ash snapped, as another blast slammed into the wall outside, startlingly close to
where they were standing.
"Pikapi!" Pikachu cried, and Ash nodded.
"Yeah. Professor, stay here," he ordered, before sprinting back out into the hallway. Kukui blinked at
the tone—he'd heard Ash use it once or twice before and it still shocked him every time, if only
because it brooked no argument and actually made him want to obey—before ignoring it and
running after.
"Ash! Hold on, wait up!" he yelled, but Ash didn't even pause. In fact, when he reached the railing
around the far side of the stairs, he vaulted over it with no concern for the heart that jumped into
Kukui's throat. "Ash!"
But when he reached the railing himself, it wasn't to find his boarder sprawled at the base of the
steps with a broken leg – Ash was nowhere in sight. Kukui swore and rushed around, taking the stairs
as quickly as he could and running for the courtyard.
By the time he got there, it was to find Ash squaring off against Lucario, Oak's Komala and Teacher
Hanoi's Pangoro lying crumpled on the ground behind it, and Pikachu snarling between Ash and their
opponent.
"Lucario!" Hanoi begged. "You have to stop! Please!"
"Pika!" Pikachu spat, but Lucario ignored them both, already charging up another Aura Sphere.
"Pikachu, we need to calm it down!" Ash ordered, before swinging out his arm. "Thunderbolt, but
take it easy!"
"Pi-kachu!" it snapped, and blasted out its attack. Lucario leapt out of the way at the last second,
before firing its sphere directly at Ash. Kukui snatched for the pokeballs he didn't even carry
anymore, but Ash just dove out of the way, expertly tumbling back to a fighter's crouch to refocus on
Lucario. Pikachu didn't wait for another order, already racing forward with a electroball forming on
its tail. "Pikapikapikapika…!"
"Cari!" Lucario barked, a shining blue bone extending out from its paws as it raced forward itself.
"Chu-pi!"
The electroball was brighter and larger than Kukui had yet seen from Pikachu, and although Lucario's
bone club batted it away, it obviously had to put a lot more energy into the swing than it had
expected, and the bone snapped in half before fading into non-existence. Lucario stumbled, staring
at the ruins of its attack, and Ash didn't wait for it to recover.
"Okay, Pikachu, let's do this!" he yelled, swinging his Z-ring up. As he and Pikachu swung through the
motions, Lucario looked up, eyes visibly widening, and it skittered back in fear. While Ash obviously
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knew better than to pause at this point, he didn't give his usual half-speech, instead pointing out,
"Pikachu and I are partners! Gigavolt Havoc!"
Like most of the Z-moves Ash performed, it wasn't nearly as impressive as it had been that first time
against Tapu Koko, but it was more than enough to slam into the still frozen Lucario and knock it out
flat. Even so, Pikachu was almost immediately back into a battle-stance, but Ash rushed past it
without waiting.
"Pikapi!" Pikachu snapped, and he tossed a smile over his shoulder as he knelt down.
"It's okay, buddy, it can't battle anymore," he said, before gently levering his arms under Lucario.
"Hey. Hey, Lucario, it's okay. No one's going to hurt anyone. It's safe here."
Lucario gasped as it came back to consciousness, jerking back, but Ash held tight.
"Hey… I promise you, everything's fine. You don't have to be scared," he said gently. "Pikachu, come
over and tell it."
"Pika pikachu," it said mutinously, but still walked over to clamber up onto Ash's shoulder, where it
glowered down at Lucario. "Pikapi pi pika, pikachu."
"Be nice," he said, and Pikachu glared at him.
"Pika."
Movement from the other side of the courtyard snapped Kukui back to himself, and he joined Hanoi
and Oak in rushing over to Ash.
"Ash!" he cried. "Are you alright?"
"Oh, my goodness," Hanoi said as she collapsed to her knees beside him. "I'm so sorry, I have no idea
what happened. You're okay, right? Kukui, I swear, I didn't –"
"It's fine," Ash reassured her, before looking back down at Lucario again. "We're all okay, right,
Lucario?"
Lucario just stared at him for a few seconds, its wide eyes slowly welling up with tears. Ash smiled
kindly, lowering his head until Kukui couldn't see his eyes past the brim of his cap, and gently petted
Lucario's cheek, his fingers just barely missing the strange black appendages behind its ears with
each stroke. "I meant it. We're all safe."
And with that, it lurched up and into Ash's chest, where it burst into what were unmistakably loud
and painful-sounding sobs.
"It belongs to a friend of mine – Danny Midori. He's one of Kahuna Hala's disciples in martial arts,"
Teacher Hanoi explained. "But last week, there was an accident during training. Danny was squaring
off against another disciple – Anthony Goldeen. It was the same as ever, and everything was fine,
except they both misjudged a swing and… well, Danny hasn't woken up yet."
Once Lucario had calmed down enough to let go of Ash, they'd moved the conversation into
Principal Oak's office to avoid the small crowd of staff and students that had stayed behind after
school and were therefore still around to see it. Lucario was still sniffling a little, but Ash had
released all of his pokemon and they were happily checking it out as a distraction, although Pikachu
had taken up position in Ash's lap and didn't seem interested in forgiving Lucario yet. Ash himself
had taken on that serious, hard-line expression he'd had when talking to DJ Leo last week, and
seemed entirely focussed on the conversation. Kukui wasn't sure what to feel about any of it.
"It's okay – I mean, the doctors are sure he's going to wake up soon," Hanoi continued slowly. "But
they're not sure how he'll be when he does. There's a bit of damage, and there's a chance he won't…
well, he might not be himself for a while."
"Oh, man," Ash said softly. "That's terrible."
She smiled vaguely, acknowledging it as fact but not really responding. "Well, if he isn't, then
everyone kind of agreed it might be a problem for Lucario – they have such close bonds with their
trainers, and it's been with Danny since the year it was hatched. So his family asked if I would take
care of Lucario until Danny's back to… well… at least until he's back on his feet."
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"I had no idea you were going through this, Teacher Hanoi," said Oak. "Are you sure you're in shape
to be at work?"
"Absolutely," she said, shaking her head to dismiss any idea otherwise. "Danny's a friend, but we
haven't been close in years. I'm just the only trainer they know with experience with fighting-types
that isn't involved in the dojo."
"Had anyone told Lucario what happened?" asked Ash. "I mean, it does know why it's got a new
trainer, right?"
"It's hard to tell what a pokemon knows sometimes," she said awkwardly. "But we did explain that
it's only temporary, and that Danny got hurt."
Ash frowned and looked over at Lucario. "I don't think it understands that it was an accident. It
seemed pretty upset."
"Pretty upset?" Kukui repeated quietly, glancing at Ash's still-damp T-shirt. Not to mention the attack
itself.
"Apparently Lucario can sense emotions from up to half a mile away," Hanoi continued. "I thought
bringing it to the school would be a good distraction – all these happy kids, focussed on learning… I
thought it would block out everyone's worries at the dojo."
"Ah, that's what you were saying before," Oak realised. "Just before it attacked."
"But that's not what you said, right?" asked Ash. "Lucario heard you talking, and it didn't think that's
what you brought it here to do."
Kukui glanced at him again, curious as to why Ash would make such an assumption, while Hanoi and
Oak frowned.
"Well… I kind of did," Hanoi said awkwardly. "I mean, I don't remember exactly what I said, but it
would've been close."
Oak nodded. "It was… ah, that's right. 'It would be good for Lucario to be around the children'."
"Oh, and you misunderstood," Hanoi remembered, lifting a finger in point. "You mentioned how in
the old days, Lucario were often used as guardians. Like a knight protector."
Ash beamed like that had cleared everything up. "Of course! So Lucario thought you brought it here
to protect everyone from some kind of danger!"
"I suppose…"
Kukui, however, was not so impressed with such an argument. "That doesn't explain why it decided
to attack us."
"It was scared," Ash argued. "Look at it from Lucario's point of view – it knows its trainer's been hurt
by someone, so badly that it's not allowed to be with him. Then it gets taken to a place it doesn't
know, and told to protect it. It probably sensed something and just lashed out." He lifted a hand to
pet Pikachu's head, and Kukui raised an eyebrow, wondering if it was an intentional movement.
Maybe he suspected Lucario had sensed Pikachu's power level – it was ridiculously strong, and
probably the only battle-trained pokemon nearby. If Lucario really could sense auras, it would have
known that. Pikachu probably had seemed like the most dangerous creature within its sphere of
attention.
There was logic to the thought, and Kukui had to reluctantly agree Ash was probably right. He'd
never seen a pokemon cry the way Lucario had earlier – it obviously hadn't been in its right mind.
Which probably also explained why it had seemed to be attacking Ash – he was giving orders to the
dangerous opponent, so getting rid of him was probably the most efficient method of stopping
Pikachu's 'rampage'.
Kukui didn't like it, but it made a kind of sense.
"That's all very well and good," Oak said slowly, "but given what's happened, I don't think I can allow
Lucario on campus, Teacher Hanoi. We can't risk it doing something like this again."
"That's not fair!" Ash cried. "This was just a misunderstanding – you don't know it'll happen again!"
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"But we also don't know that it won't," he replied, and Hanoi nodded quietly.
"Before you made it downstairs, both Principal Oak and I attempted to stop Lucario from entering
the school. It knocked out both of our pokemon in one move. It's too powerful to risk it going wild."
"Yeah, but…" Ash grimaced and looked over at Lucario. "This isn't Lucario's fault."
Kukui slanted a look at his fellow teachers, silently reassuring them he'd deal with that particular
misconception later. "Are you going to be alright with it, Hanoi? They might both be part-fighting
type, but lucario are nothing like the pangoro you've raised."
"I think so. I'll keep it at home, and there's only one trainer in my neighbourhood that uses Z-moves.
I'll just talk to him and make sure he knows not to use his pokemon near my house for a while," she
said with a sigh. "It's a shame that I'll have to keep it locked up, but hopefully it won't be for long."
Ash's frown deepened, but he kept silent, obviously aware that he was being overruled. Kukui just
sighed and wondered if he could distract the kid with the promise of Akala and Kahuna Olivia.
Somehow, he doubted things would be that easy.
It was a late start to the school day the next morning, but Kukui wasn't altogether surprised when he
got up to find Ash already on his way out the door.
"Training again?" he asked. "You know, Ash, sometimes there can be too much of a good thing."
"Huh?" Standing with his hand on the door, Pikachu on his backpack, Ash stared at him for a few
seconds, then grinned broadly. "Oh! Right! Yeah. Um… but not yet! We've still got a lot of work to
do. Right, Pikachu?"
Pikachu snapped an equally frozen grin onto its face. "Pika!"
"So we're gonna go train some more," Ash continued. "Me and Pikachu."
"Pika pikachu."
"Yeah. Now. See you later!"
And then he was zipping out the door, Rotom squealing as it had to rush to follow. Kukui lowered
the mug he'd just collected from the cupboard, wearily debating whether he was getting too old to
understand kids or if Ash was just that weird.
For all the 'training' he had supposedly been doing, Ash was only just on time for class, and he was
walked to the door by Teacher Hanoi. Kukui watched from beside his desk, unable to hear what they
were saying as she smiled and bowed to him, and Ash did the same in return. He supposed it could
have been coincidence—Hanoi had apologised over and over again last night, and was obviously still
guilty by the time they left—but somehow Kukui didn't quite believe that was why the two of them
were together.
He didn't say anything though, just got through class as normal, and when it was over, he wandered
down the hall to Hanoi's classroom. She was collecting papers on her desk, so he knocked on the
doorframe as a warning before walking in.
"Hey, Hanoi."
"Oh, Professor Kukui, alola," she greeted. "Do we have a staff meeting?"
"No. I just wanted to see if everything was okay," he said. "I saw you talking to Ash this morning.
You're not still feeling guilty over what happened, are you?"
"I was, but Ash told me not to worry. He's a good kid," she said, and paused for a moment before
adding, "I went to check on Danny this morning – I guess I was kind of hoping I could find out he
could take Lucario back. Ash actually found me there."
Kukui raised his eyebrows, less surprised than he'd expected himself to be. "Ash was at the
hospital?"
"Mm. He said he wanted to meet Lucario's trainer, even if he wasn't awake," she said. "I don't know
why. I'm not sure he knew, either. But he seemed sincere."
Kukui glanced over his shoulder, back toward his own classroom. The time with Leo, he'd kind of
understood Ash's motivations. He was so passionate about relationships between people and
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pokemon, of course he'd wanted to make sure Leo at least got the chance to say a proper goodbye
to his Dugtrio, and then when Team Rocket had been revealed as responsible, a battle just felt like
the right thing to do. But this time… it wasn't like Lucario was never going to see its trainer again.
And even if it had been reacting to Pikachu, that didn't change the fact Lucario had attacked Ash. If
there was ever a time to distance yourself from something…
And then Kukui remembered his promise to himself to just go with Ash's weird habits, and sighed.
"I'm sure it's fine."
Hanoi tilted her head, perplexed by what might have seemed a non-sequitor. "Professor Kukui?"
"Never mind. I'm glad you're feeling better. Have a good afternoon."
"Yeah, you too!"
He headed out, determined not to worry about it. That thought lasted all of an hour, when he was
on his way home and heard voices coming from the path off route three. He paused, glancing over,
and frowned as he recognised a lucario's bark.
"I'm really sorry, Lucario, but I don't know what you're asking!"
That was Ash.
Kukui hesitated, looking back on his own path. He'd told himself to just go with it. That didn't mean
he had to completely stay out of whatever Ash was doing, right?
"Luca! Lucario! Lu-lu-rio lucario lu!"
"Pika! Pikachu pi pikachu!"
"Oh, man…!"
Kukui's reluctant interest promptly took a backseat once he arrived on the scene proper. Lucario had
Ash backed up against the cliff wall, snarling into his face while Pikachu perched as far forward on
Ash's shoulder as it could, warding it off with sparking cheeks, and Rotom flitted about in a panic.
Kukui's hands twitched for his pokeballs again, but all he could really do was shout.
"Hey! What's going on here?"
Ash jerked and looked up, blinking wide eyes. "Professor Kukui!"
"Professor Kukui!" Rotom beeped, and then set off a quick alarm. "You need to help!"
Lucario snarled, but then blinked as Kukui's presence really seemed to register, before it flinched and
stumbled backward. Pikachu snapped at it again, and it hunched in on itself apologetically, even
placing its paws together like a child folding their hands. Ash sighed.
"Sorry about this, Professor," he said, and turned back to Lucario with his hands spread. "Really,
Lucario, I get it. And I want to help, but I don't know how I can."
"Ash, get over here," Kukui ordered. "This lucario is clearly not in its right mind. It's not safe."
"That's what I've been telling him!" cried Rotom, but Ash glared at them both.
"It's just upset!"
Kukui gave him a blunt look, unimpressed by both the tone and the response, but Ash didn't seem
interested in pandering to even professionalcourtesy right now, let alone any pretence about Kukui
being some kind of authority over him. He turned back to Lucario. "You do want my help, right? With
Danny?"
"Lucario," it mumbled back.
"I know you guys are close. I can see it, in all those things you showed me," he said gently.
"What things?" Rotom demanded, but Ash ignored it.
"You care about him a whole lot, right?"
"Luluca," Lucario said, and then jerked up and forward again. Kukui almost reached out to snatch
Ash away, but Pikachu looked at him quickly and he froze. He couldn't really get on Ash's case about
respecting the danger of pokemon while risking electrocution himself. Besides, Ash barely even
reacted to Lucario grabbing his arms and barking, "Lucario! Luca lu-lu-rio lucario lu!"
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"I – Lucario, I…" Ash grimaced and reached up to hold Lucario's shoulders in return. "I can't do what I
think you want me to do. I don't know how."
"Lucario!"
"Easy!" he said. "You gotta calm down. You're scaring the professor."
Lucario flinched again, glancing at Kukui, then went back to Ash with another whimper, "Lucario lu-
lu-rio."
"I can't, Lucario," he repeated. "I'm sorry."
Lucario stared at him for another few seconds, then slowly stepped away, eyes clenching shut as it
whimpered again, obviously tearing up. Kukui watched it warily for a minute before looking at
Rotom for answers. "What's going on?"
"I do not know!" it wailed. "We were walking home when Ash decided to come down here! And
Lucario was here! And then they just sat together for a long time, before Lucario suddenly went
crazy!"
"It's not crazy!" Ash insisted angrily, shifting as if to shield Lucario from them. "It's just worried about
Danny. No one's telling it anything, but it knows he's hurt. It just wants someone to help him."
Kukui scowled back. "How do you know?" he asked, and Ash stared like he was being unreasonable.
"Isn't it obvious?"
Which, in a way, it was, but still. He rubbed his forehead. "Alright, fine. Let's… let's take it back to
Teacher Hanoi and –"
"I'm taking it to the hospital."
"Ash," he said firmly, but Ash just frowned back at him.
"Danny is Lucario's partner. They're as close as me and Pikachu. It's not right for them to have cut
Lucario out like this!"
Kukui wanted to yell. He really, really did. He wanted to point out that Lucario was a pokemon. It
wasn't a human being. It needed a trainer, or to stay in its pokeball, because even if it was just
because it was upset, it was still acting like a danger to everyone.
But at the same time…
"And fire!"
Something flashed in the corner of his eye, but Kukui didn't have time to look before Pikachu
shrieked and Lucario yelped, and suddenly Ash's shoulder was empty. They both jerked to see the
two pokemon now in a net that was being yanked up and over their heads.
"What –?!" Ash cried, and three strangely familiar cackles answered him.
"After all of this time, you'd think that he'd know," a woman said.
"But if the twerp asks, then we'll put on a show!" a man cried, and Kukui turned to find none other
than Team Rocket standing on the cliff above them, striking dramatic poses that wouldn't have
looked out of place on a stage.
"A beauty so radiant the flowers and moon hide in shame; a single flower of evil in this fleeting
world!" the woman announced, flinging her arms wide before bringing them down to her hips.
"Jessie."
"The nobly heroic man of our times; a master of darkness fighting back against a tragic world!" the
man said, pulling a red rose from behind himself just to hold it near his cheek. "It's James."
"It's one for all and all for one," the talking Meowth said, doing a quick flip that brought it to the
forefront of the trio. "A glittering dark star that always shines bright! Dig it, while Meowth takes
flight!"
"Team Rocket," the two humans snapped out, "let's fight!"
"That's right!" Meowth replied, while the wobbuffet popped up from behind them all with a proper
salute.
"Woo-bbuffet!"
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"Team Rocket!" Ash snapped. "Give back Pikachu and Lucario!"

Some vague, absent side of Kukui came to the fore, looking between Ash and Team Rocket and
asking, "Do they always introduce themselves like that…?"
"Ugh, looks like even Pokemon Professors can get in on the twerpy act," Jessie sneered, while James
raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
"Complete with quibbling question quotient. But we don't have time for even the quickest of queries
today!"
"That's right – we gotta grab these guys before Bewear breaks up the bag!" Meowth said, and leapt
over to a machine attached to the still hoisting net.
"I wouldn't bet on it!" Ash snapped, lashing out with his arm. "Pikachu! Iron tail!"
"Pika-chu!" it replied, but although its tail shone and crashed against the net, it hit with a screech of
metal, and Team Rocket laughed again.
"Oh, come on now, Twerp! What's the point in going to school if you're going to stay as dumb as
ever?" Jessie cackled.
"Our nets are specially designed to cope with your electric rat! Shock proof and iron proof, the
perfect combination!" James pointed out, and Ash growled, reaching behind himself for a pokeball.
"Well if I can't break the net, we'll have to go after the other targets!" he snapped, and pitched not
one but two balls with the same hand. "Rowlet – leafage! Litten, I need you to get up to that
machine!"
"Not this time, Twerp!" James shouted, flinging his own pokeball. "Mareanie, poison sting!"
"Litten! Dodge it!"
Somehow, Litten managed to bounce in mid-air, just barely avoiding the poison shot, while Rowlet
(in one of its surprising displays of higher function) silently sped up into the air and unleashed a
hurricane of glowing leaves. Team Rocket yelled in frustration as they had to shield themselves, and
Litten took the opportunity to clamber up to the top of the cliff.
Ash clicked his fingers in satisfaction. "Nice work! Now use fire fang!"
"Sludge bomb, Mareanie, let's go!" James called, and Litten yowled as the attack hit, sending a wave
of mud and dust over the edge.
"Litten! Are you okay?" Ash called, but he barely waited for an answer before gesturing to Rowlet.
"Quick, use peck!"
"Not on my watch!" Meowth snarled, extending glowing claws, only to flinch and freeze up as
Rowlet came shooting toward it. "Uh oh."
Rowlet slammed into it, and then the machine, so hard and fast that Kukui only really saw the
explosion. But it did the job as the machine buckled, the clawed attachments that gripped the net
coming apart before breaking off entirely. As soon as there was a gap large enough, Pikachu
clambered out and leapt down onto the cliff, but Lucario was still tangled as it fell not only over the
short cliff above them, but toward the sharp incline below. Not that Kukui was too worried, given
Lucario's steel type, but Ash dove to grab it anyway. His hand snagged the net, but combined with
Lucario's weight it dragged him to the ground and over the incline, though his other hand snatched
at the ground just before he went over proper.
"Ash!" Kukui cried, running over to help, but Ash was already pulling himself back up somehow,
teeth clenched as he glared up at Team Rocket.
"Ooh, looks like the twerp's in trouble!" Jessie crowed.
"I think we can help with that!" James agreed. "Mareanie! Poison sting once more!"
"What?!" Kukui was so shocked that he actually stopped, and the spikes shot past him to crash into
the dirt Ash was just barely holding onto. He had a split second to see one actually slice across Ash's
fingers before the kid lost his grip and slid out of view.
"Pikapi!" Pikachu yelled, and Kukui swung around to stare horrified at Team Rocket.
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They were grinning at each other excitedly. "Did we just –"

"I think we did! Again!"
"This region is so great for us!"
"Uh, guys?" Meowth said, and both they and Kukui looked at it, before following its gaze down to
Pikachu, Litten, and Rowlet. Kukui didn't blame the trio for flinching – with how those three looked,
he was a little surprised they weren't already running.
"Piiiika…" Pikachu began, while Litten's mouth and back burst into flame and Rowlet leapt up into
the air, feathers flared and leaves glowing hot white.
"We really need to stop counting our torchics before they hatch," James sighed, before all three
lashed out with their attacks. Kukui braced himself against the explosion, but something big and
black flashed, and when the dust cleared, it was to find Team Rocket, their meowth, and their
wobbuffet all in the arms of a very large, unharmed, and extremely intimidating bewear.
As a whole, Team Rocket looked rather resigned.
"Oh, come on!" Jessie wailed. "The Twerp is gone! We can win this one!"
"Just give us one more minute!" cried James.
Bewear looked down at Kukui, then over at Pikachu and the others, before nodding once and
sprinting off into the trees. Kukui blinked dumbly as Team Rocket called, "We're off with a new
blast…!"
For a minute, nobody moved.
It was that kind of weird.
"Pikapi!" Pikachu gasped, and Kukui flinched before running over to the incline's edge. He couldn't
see Ash anywhere, though there was a line of rubble and broken branches to show his trajectory. He
would have landed in the woods behind the Pokemon Centre.
Rotom and Rowlet flew over, Rotom just pausing long enough to meet Kukui's gaze and say, "I will
go straight down and look for him. I will send an alert to your device with coordinates!"
"Thanks, Rotom," he said, and it bobbed in the air before speeding down after Rowlet. Kukui looked
up at Ash's remaining pokemon and gestured for them to come down. "Let's go – I know how to get
down there."
Kukui was a very strong believer in the idea that if you looked for the good, it would come to you.
But even so, as he ran faster and harder than he had in years, his mind began quietly preparing for
the inevitable calls. First to the hospital, and then to Delia Ketchum, and then the police because
those thugs needed to be locked up forever and a day, and then he was going to have words with
every single person who had ever seen Ash interact with Team Rocket because this should never
have –
And then Ash stepped out from behind a tree and Kukui had to spin on one leg not to run him over.
"Hey, whoa, Professor Kukui!" Ash cried as he stumbled and eventually fell to the ground. "Are you
okay?"
"Pikapi!" Pikachu cried, and Ash immediately turned to catch it up in a tight hug that was soon joined
by an enthusiastic Litten.
Kukui gaped up at him. Ash was laughing happily, looking perfectly fine. Rowlet was even asleep in
his open backpack, like it often did on his way home from school. Lucario was standing a few feet
back, its paws pressed together and soft smile on its muzzle, and Rotom was hovering over all of
them, looking satisfied. Everything seemed… okay?
"Ash? Are you alright?" Kukui asked, and he pulled away from his pokemon with a broad smile.
"Yup! It was a pretty big fall, though. I hit my head and blacked out," he said, and then turned a
proud look on Lucario. "Lucky you were there or I might've been in real trouble!"
"Lucario," it said, with a humble duck of its head.
"Lucario learned heal pulse!" Rotom reported. "It was super effective!"
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"Heal pulse," Kukui repeated quietly. He was beginning to feel a little numb.
"It's so great!" Ash added, letting go of Pikachu to pump his fist. "I bet you could use it on Danny!"
Lucario jerked and looked up with wide eyes. "Luca?"
"Yeah!" he said excitedly. "Come on! Let's go to the hospital right now and try it out!"
"Hospital…?" Kukui repeated, but Ash had already lowered Litten to the ground and was holding out
a hand for him to take.
"Come on, Professor!"
Very, very numb. But he let himself get dragged up to his feet and wasn't given time to question
before they were off and running again, this time toward town.
It worked.
Kukui stood behind the observation window with a nurse, both of them staring blankly as the fully-
healed martial artist half-fell out of bed to hug his crying lucario tightly. On the other side, Ash and
Pikachu were grinning at each other while Rotom took picture after picture, and the doctor gaped
because this wasn't possible.
Heal pulse didn't normally work on humans. Not without special adaption equipment and extensive
training and certainly not on brain injuries because the human brain was such a complicated mess
and…
"Isn't it great, Lucario?" he heard Ash say. "I knew you could do it."
Kukui blinked. At the warm, gentle smile. At the kindness and compassion Ash had shown these last
two days. At how he'd refused to stay out of it, even though he'd been in danger. At the end result,
with a pokemon and its trainer enjoying the best of happy endings.
Kukui felt his shoulders drop a little, something warm pooling in his chest.
"Good job," he agreed, not entirely sure who he was talking to.
"There is still something I don't understand," Rotom said as they headed home. The time had just
slipped away from them, and now it was sunset, casting everything in a beautiful orange light that
somehow felt warmer than the afternoon sun had.
"What's that, Rotom?" Kukui asked, when Ash's only response was a curious glance.
"This afternoon, how did you know Lucario was waiting for you on that side path?" it asked. "And
you seemed to know what it was thinking."
"I'm more surprised at you, Rotom," Ash replied blankly. "Come to think of it, I've been meaning to
ask. You're still a pokemon inside the pokedex, right? How come you don't know what pokemon are
saying?"
"I no longer communicate as a pokemon does!" it said, sweeping an imperious wing through the air.
"My databanks are programmed to accept human speech, and therefore prioritises your language
over theirs!"
"That's kind of sad," he said, and looked at Pikachu. "I'd give anything to know what Pikachu and the
others were really saying."
"You seem to understand them pretty well already," Kukui noted. "I've seen people that make real
money translating pokemon speech that can't communicate as well as you do with Pikachu."
"That's just understanding what it means," he said. "I'd really like to know what it's saying."
"Pika pikachu, Pikapi," Pikachu replied, pushing its cheek into his, and he chuckled and pushed back
in an armless hug. Kukui smiled fondly. Some things didn't need any translation.
They fell silent for a second before Rotom suddenly squealed. "You did it again!"
"What?"
"You changed the subject!" it yelled, and swung around to poke its wing in his face. "You always do
that! Why do you never answer my questions?"
"What questions?" Ash demanded. "Rotom, you're not making any sense!"
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"I ask you questions and every time you avoid answering!" it cried. "You always just say 'that's how it
is' and that is not how it is! Life is not that simple and you are incomprehensible! I demand
comprehension!"
"Well, so do I!" he said. "You make things too complicated, RotomDex."
"You make them too simple!" it snapped back. "But especially this time! How did you know what
Lucario was saying?"
"I just said, didn't I?" he asked. "I don't know what pokemon are saying, but sometimes you can kind
of get an idea of what they mean. It's not that special, right, Professor?"
Kukui raised an eyebrow. "Well, usually trainers need a close bond with their pokemon to really
understand, but you're right; it's not that unusual. But I think you might have gotten this one wrong,
Ash – I don't think you're understanding what Rotom means."
"And it talks like a human!" Ash responded cheekily. "Which just goes to show that you don't have to
speak a different language to misunderstand sometimes."
Kukui narrowed his eyes, but couldn't help smiling back. It was rare enough that Kukui could admit
he enjoyed it when Ash decided to be a brat. "Okay. So maybe I should translate then?"
"Aw, come on, Professor, aren't you a pokemon trainer?" he asked playfully. "You should know
better than to just give pokemon what they want! They have to learn or they're never going to get
stronger!"
Rotom beeped in frustration. "You cannot lecture anyone about spoiling pokemon when your
pikachu is the most spoiled rat in Alola!"
"Mouse," Ash corrected. "Pikachu is a mouse."
"Pika," Pikachu agreed sagely.
"Rats don't have fur on their tails. Gary told me that once."
"You are doing it again!" Rotom screeched.
"Seriously, Rotom, you need to calm down. All that stress is going to overheat your circuits!" he said
with a grin, and ducked under Rotom to start jogging backward. "You should burn off your energy in
more productive ways! Like running! Let's make it a race home!"
"What?!"
"Come on, Pikachu! See you there, Professor!"
"Pika!"
"Stop avoiding my questions!"
The three of them sped off into the sunset, leaving Kukui alone on the road. He chuckled softly,
amused despite his complete understanding of Rotom's frustration. It was altogether too easy to get
swept up in Ash's joyful disregard for sense and clarity. To the point that Kukui kind of felt like he'd
forgotten something himself. Like he'd been intending to do something before everything at the
hospital overrode it.
Ah well.
"I better get going too," he told himself, breaking into a run after the group. "Or else I'll be needing
to use Last Resort to get into my own house!"
It probably wasn't that important.
Lesson Eight: Bonding
For several long seconds, Kukui could only stare.
Kiawe and Mallow exchanged nervous glances, then slowly looked back up at him, silent. Ash's
eyebrow ticked once.
"You guys can let go of me now," he said pointedly. "I'm home."
"Just a minute," Kukui said, not moving from the middle of the doorway. "Now, kids, I'm not judging,
and when you're not at school, it's not my place to say what you can and can't do. But the fact you
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had to walk Ash home and knocked on the door rather than let him open it kind of makes me a little
concerned. Rough night in the woods?"
And all jokes aside, he was actually a little worried. While mostly he just seemed annoyed, Ash was
pale and a little sweaty, and his eyes were bloodshot. Mallow and Kiawe each had a hand on one of
his shoulders, Pikachu was on the ground beside Steenee, and Rotom was hovering in the
background with one of its disapproving frowns. If Kukui hadn't known better he would have added
it all up to a really bad hangover.
"I'm fine," Ash said firmly. "They're being stupid."
"Ash walked into three trees this morning," Mallow explained.
"I tripped over some roots," he corrected irritably.
"And he walked into a river," Kiawe added.
"I was walking with the slope and didn't notice, big deal!" he objected.
"And he nearly headed over a cliff," Mallow finished. "That was when we decided he shouldn't walk
on his own right now."
"I just got turned around!" he cried, flailing his arms. Kukui had to dodge one of them and it wound
up smacking into the doorframe instead, making Ash hiss in pain and shock.
"It has been a fascinating morning!" Rotom announced, though it didn't sound particularly happy
about it. "I believe this mental and physical dehabilitation—"
"I know what that means!" Ash said. "I'm not going crazy!"
"No, I think that ship's already sailed," Kiawe drawled, and Ash pouted at him.
Rotom ignored the interjection with a sweep of its wing. "—is due to the after effects of Morelull's
repeated Strength Sap, followed by Shiinotic's Sleep Powder. Both have been noted to cause minor
degradation in coordination and mental faculties, but the two combined have resulted in a complete
loss of direction and self-awareness."
"Morelull's Strength Sap?" Kukui repeated blankly, and then grimaced, realising he was still blocking
the way. He stepped back and gestured for Kiawe and Mallow to push Ash inside. "So you ran into
some morelull, huh? What do you mean by 'repeated' Strength Sap?"
"It was so cool, Professor!" Ash enthused, even as Kiawe took over from Mallow to personally
manhandle him over to the couch. "There were all these morelull in the forest – it was their
evolution time! You should've seen it, it was so beautiful! They all had to suck up a lot of energy, and
then put it into this tree, and the tree was huge and shiny and it glowed and it was –"
"Yeah, it was cool," Kiawe interrupted as he finally managed to get Ash to sit. "But that doesn't make
what you did any less dumb."
"It was totally worth it!"
"It was crazy!" Mallow snapped, and then turned to Kukui with her arms spread wide. "We all got
attacked by morelull, but there was this one small one that followed us back to camp and kept going
after us. And once we figured out what was attacking us, Ash actually volunteered himself to get
sapped! Over and over and over again until it couldn't take anymore!"
Kukui stared, then looked over at Ash. Suddenly, he looked a lot better—and frankly more alive—
than Kukui would have expected from the story alone.
"It was no big deal!" Ash said, waving it off. "You get energy from food, and we had way too much
because Lillie and Mallow cooked enough for an army! So I just ate a bunch and it was fine!"
"It was not fine; you're an idiot," Kiawe snapped, and then sighed loudly, setting one hand on his hip
as he turned back to Kukui. "He didn't seem any worse for wear though. Not until we all woke up
this morning and he started trying to walk off cliffs."
"It's seriously not a problem," Ash insisted. "I just haven't been looking where I was going, and yeah,
I'm a bit clumsy today but that happens sometimes, right? I've heard about it from some of my older
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friends! Some days, your arms and legs feel a bit too long for your body. It's just a part of growing
up."
Mallow looked slightly blank at that, but Kukui joined Kiawe in giving Ash a deadpan stare. Whatever
other pubescent worries Ash had, you only had to look to know growth spurts were not one of them.
"Spatial disorientation is one of the most well-known side-effects of fairy-type attacks," Rotom
reported. "Further expected symptoms are muscle fatigue, increased appetite, headaches, nausea,
and long-term memory loss. Wait! Long-term memory loss?! Quick, Ash! Do you remember your
home town and mother's maiden name?!"
"Okay, okay, calm down, Rotom," Kukui said, holding up his hands. "Let's take things one step at a
time. Ash, are you sure you're feeling okay?"
Ash grinned and pumped his arms defiantly. "I'm just fine! No need to worry!"
"Pi-pika pikachu," Pikachu said in an undertone, and Ash balked, then shot it an annoyed glance. The
rest of them ignored it.
"Well, I guess that as long as you're alright…" Kukui said slowly, looking back at Kiawe and Mallow.
"Thanks for getting him home. I hope you had some fun this weekend."
"Sure did!" cried Mallow. "I can't wait until next time!"
"Seeing that evolution event was pretty amazing," Kiawe agreed. "And it was cool to camp out in the
middle of nature like that."
"Right?" Ash jumped back to his feet, bringing his fists up in front of him with a determined grin. "It
was just like being on the road again. I didn't realise how much I mi- i- whoa!" His arms pin-wheeled
as he apparently struggled to keep his balance, until Kiawe grabbed his shoulder and shoved him
back on the couch.
"Don't stand up if you can't!" he snapped, but Ash ignored him, raising his fists again.
"Forget that. This weekend was so much fun! I'm so glad we did it," he said, and then beamed at
Kiawe and then Mallow. "And I'm really glad you guys got to come along. I know you're both super
busy, helping out your parents at home and all. I wanted to say thanks for taking the time to come
out with us. It was way better with you guys there too."
They both faltered slightly, even Kiawe losing his annoyed scowl in pleased surprise. They just stared
at him for a second, then up at each other, before Mallow lifted her shoulders in a quiet giggle. "I
guess it is kind of rare for us to take time out like this."
"Yeah, you're right," Kiawe said slowly. "But… I'm glad we did. I really did have fun this weekend."
"Me too. It's nice to just spend some time with friends, huh?"
Ash grinned, and Kukui smiled fondly. He'd always liked this group of kids for how close and friendly
they were, but they were really coming together lately. But as much as he hated to break up one of
their bonding moments…
"Not that I want to kick you guys out on a whirlwind," he said, stepping up between Mallow and
Kiawe, "but it's getting pretty late and if you did get hit by morelull, you could all probably do with a
rest. Are you okay to get back to Akala, Kiawe? We can call your folks and tell them you're staying
here if you don't want to risk the flight."
Kiawe shook his head and started toward the door. "Nah, I'm okay. Thanks though," he added, and
then looked at Mallow. "You want a lift back to the restaurant?"
"Sure, that'd be great! I've never flown on a charizard before!"
"Stee-nee!"
After ordering Ash to stay put, Kukui walked them out, inexplicably pleased with the outcome of
their weekend. He waited for Kiawe to call out Charizard and climb aboard before saying, "So about
what Ash did… I'm glad I don't have to tell you what a dumb move that was."
"No kidding," Mallow said as she lifted Steenee for Kiawe to take. "It always works out in the end,
but he does some really crazy stunts."
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"Ash is the only one reckless enough to do the things he does, Professor, don't worry," Kiawe
agreed, before frowning slightly. "But uh, Lillie does get pretty impressed."
Mallow hummed, but only paused long enough to clamber up behind Kiawe and take Steenee back
before pointing out, "But she's too scared of pokemon to copy him."
Kukui nodded. "Still, I'll talk to her anyway. Thanks again, you two."
They both smiled as Charizard prepared for takeoff. "See you tomorrow, Professor Kukui!"
"Yeah. Be careful on your way home!"
While there wasn't anything wrong with him per se, Ash was decidedly more uncoordinated and
even vaguer than usual all afternoon. He was handling it pretty well, but Kukui still insisted on
keeping him in as much sight as possible, just to be safe.
"This is very interesting!" Rotom said after Ash failed to walk out of the bathroom so much as into
the doorframe. He just grumbled to himself and corrected his path, but Kukui shot Rotom a
disapproving look.
"I'm not sure that's the best way to phrase it, RotomDex."
"But it is! Directly after evolving, the shiinotic shared its own energy with Ash in repayment!" Rotom
said, flitting around to take photos of Ash. "Such a process would theoretically reverse any ill-effects
from the initial draining!"
"Not necessarily," Kukui argued. "The human body is a complicated thing, Rotom. It's not like a
machine, where you can just recharge the batteries and immediately get it working at one hundred
percent efficiency."
"It doesn't normally take this long to get over it though," Ash groused as he walked over to flop back
down on the couch with a loud sigh. "But I guess it makes sense. It probably would've been fine if it
was just me."
"Just you?" Kukui repeated curiously, before he realised what he meant. "Oh, because it was giving
energy back to the others, too."
"Well, yeah, but no," he said. "I mean my pokemon."
He raised his eyebrows, surprised. "I thought you usually included them when you referred to
'others'."
"What?"
"What?"
They stared at each other for a few seconds, before Ash flailed his hands, frustrated. "Not Pikachu
and the others! My other pokemon! Like Greninja!"
"Data update!" Rotom said cheerfully. "Disorientation is making the subject even more nonsensical
than usual!"
"Arghhh! I keep telling you I'm fine!" Ash grabbed at his hair, then flung his hands out in front of
him. "Shiinotic probably spread around enough energy for the tree, and us, and our pokemon, and
you, RotomDex, but no way it would've thought about givin' to more than it could see. It's wild! It
doesn't know about the bond between trainers and their pokemon, so it wouldn't think about that!"
"What bond are you talking about?" asked Rotom. "Does that not usually refer to friendship?"
"N- well, yeah, but…" Ash stared at it for a few seconds, then turned to Kukui in an obvious search
for help. "I guess I don't know the words. You know. When you're a Pokemon Trainer, you – with
your pokemon, when you get really close, you have that bond, right?"
Kukui blinked back, making sure to keep his poker face up. He knew as much about bonds as any
Pokemon Trainer worth their salt, but he wasn't entirely sure what that had to do with Shiinotic
giving out energy. But if previous experience was anything to go by, Kukui knew he would be better
served by letting Ash explore the topic, rather than shutting him down. "Yes, but terminology isn't
helping us here. Why don't you try explaining it from the beginning, and I'll help you as you go?"
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"Thanks, Professor," he said, tone full of genuine gratitude, before he shifted in his seat, sitting more
upright and straight-backed as he focussed on Rotom properly. "Okay, um, so, as a Pokemon Trainer,
I work with my pokemon, right? We share everything. Our happiness, our sadness, our triumphs, and
our failures. My weaknesses are their weaknesses, and my strength is theirs too."
Kukui nodded, because it wasn't an uncommon philosophy. Most gym leaders he'd ever met had a
similar speech, and would usually come out with it at the slightest provocation, lecturing new
trainers about the importance of taking responsibility for their pokemon's performance in battle. He
would have been more surprised if Ash hadn't picked it up by this point.
In typical fashion, Pikachu seemed to notice Ash was explaining something and immediately broke
off from the shadow-tag it had been playing with Rockruff and Litten to join him. It hopped onto the
couch and then clambered up onto Ash's shoulder, matching his determined smile with one of its
own, apparently just to complete the image of a pokemon-trainer team. Ash barely acknowledged it
with a glance, but when the other two followed Pikachu over, he leaned down to pick up Litten and
set it in his lap.
"When I get really into training—when I'm really working as hard as I can," he added quickly, like
that was an important qualifier, "then it's like there's nothing separating us. It's like I'm right there
on the field with them. Sharing our strength, sharing our pain, sharing everything. It's more than just
a bond of friendship – more than just a partnership. It's a real connection of mind and spirit."
Rockruff lifted its paws onto the table, tilting its head curiously, but Pikachu nodded like a wiseman.
"Pika pikachu."
"And there are some pokemon I have, where we connected so well, that no matter how far apart we
are, it's like we're always together." He closed his eyes, a warm smile spreading over his face as he
obviously remembered something – or, considering the topic, someone. But after a second, his eyes
snapped open again, and he laughed like he was suddenly embarrassed. "And a couple of times it's
been even more than that. We really areconnected, and I'm pretty sure they're kinda mad at me
right now."
"Pika pika," Pikachu said dryly, and Ash giggled again.
"I do not understand," Rotom said blankly. "You make it sound as if you have some kind of psychic
ability."
"Not psychic," he said. "It's not normally like a special power or anything. It's just about how well
you work with your pokemon. Right, Professor?"
Kukui balked a little, caught off-guard despite himself. As so often happened during these
conversations, everything Ash was saying made a kind of sense, and definitely related to principles
he knew, but he was applying it in strange ways. Kukui inwardly grimaced and went with the closest
approximation he had. "There definitely is some kind of unexplained bond between pokemon and
their trainers. It's the basis of how Z-moves work, after all. You can't just pick up a Z-crystal, steal
someone else's pokemon, and get a fully-powered Z-move – it probably wouldn't even work. The
strongest Z-moves come from pokemon who have the closest bond with their trainers."
He hesitated, then added, "There's also something called Mega-Evolution, which can further evolve
a fully evolved pokemon. In all of the published research on mega-evolution, the consensus is that
you need a strong connection between a trainer and pokemon, or the evolution becomes unstable.
So there is definitely some kind of… link operating there."
"A link," Rotom repeated dubiously. "That is not a very precise description."
"Well, honestly, there hasn't been a lot of research done the define it," he said with a shrug. "You
have to remember, Rotom, Pokemon Science isn't that old. It's only in the last fifty years or so that
we stopped describing pokemon moves as 'magic'."
"No research? But isn't it what Professor Oak studies?" asked Ash. "I mean, he's always talking about
how humans and pokemon work together."
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"Yes, but that's more… cultural," he replied. "For instance, Professor Oak's last paper was about the
ways pokemon behaviour changes based on their interactions with humans. A pokemon in the wild
doesn't think much like a human. Like Morelull – it was only concerned with syphoning as much
energy as it could for the express purpose of evolving and serving its forest. Compare that with
Pikachu here, who can stand on a pitcher's mound, completely mimmicking all the gestures and
quirks of Ola'ola, and be emotionally invested in winning the game."
Pikachu gave an embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of its head. Kukui smiled in appreciation of yet
another proven point.
"Pokemon that live among humans adopt their mannerisms, and even some of their thought
processes. But that isn't a bond, it's just emotional and mental adaption."
Ash stared blankly for a second, but obviously decided to just go with what he didn't understand,
because his next point was just, "And I guess Professor Sycamore's more about the actual evolution
stuff and the mega-stones than what keeps the pokemon happy, huh?"
"Mmhm. Most scientists are interested in documenting pokemon abilities. Trainers are a little beside
the point, to be honest."
"I see," Rotom said thoughtfully. "But what does this have to do with energy?"
Pulling his poker face back on, Kukui gestured for Ash to pick up the thread, since he honestly had no
idea. Apparently it worked, because Ash nodded and gave it a shot.
"Well, part of that bond is that pokemon rely on their trainers to keep 'em going no matter how
they're feeling," he explained. "So you gotta be able to boost them up."
"Boost them up?" it repeated, and Kukui quietly hummed as he followed the thought through.
From anyone else, it wouldn't have been a strange concept, though it may have been a little more…
metaphorical than he suspected Ash was being. It was essentially an expansion of the theory he'd
discussed with Ash when Rowlet was poisoned: part of a trainer's job was to ensure their pokemon
kept going even when things were hard. Normally, that would just be motivation and emotional
support. But… when he thought about it…
Back in the days when he'd been an active trainer, travelling around for battle and glory, he won
more often than not. But there had been times… he remembered having Kahunas on the ropes, only
for their pokemon to get a sudden boost of strength that he still couldn't explain even now. He
remembered league matches in Kanto that went on for entire hours because his opponent's
pokemon just would – not – stay – down.
That last battle against Lance… he'd been so prepared. So ready for anything. But every single one of
Lance's pokemon had just… destroyed him.
When he collapsed to his knees, furious over his loss after so much hard work and training, Lance
had looked down his nose at him, coldly imperious.
"I expected better from an Alolan."
He hadn't known what that meant. But it had knocked him right back to his Trial Days. To Akala
Island, where Kiawe's grandfather had sighed as he begrudgingly handed over the Firinium-Z.
"You may have won this crystal," he'd said. "But until you fully understand what it means to battle
alongside your pokemon, its true power will remain beyond your reach. We give and take of our
pokemon, just as they give and take of us. You, young Kukui of Melemele Island… you do not give,
and that will be your downfall."
And then there was Lance, using the exact same tone as he said, "You're a good battler. You know all
the strategies, all the techniques. I can't fault anything you did. And your pokemon are strong.
You've trained them well. But you don't fight with them, and so they don't fight for you. I'm actually
surprised you made it this far."
And now, so many years later, Ash somehow sounded exactly the same as he said, "I always believe
in my pokemon." He raised the hand not still petting Litten to lie over his heart, closing his eyes again
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with another smile. "I like to think they know that, whether they're with me or not, and whether
they're battling or just having fun. They know I'll always be there for them. So we're always
connected."
"Pika pika!" Pikachu agreed enthusiastically, while Litten pushed its head harder into Ash's hand with
a pleased rumble.
"Yeah, you get it, don't you?" Ash said, smiling at it. "Even though we haven't battled much together,
you can feel it too, right? How we're stronger now that we're together?"
"Mrow," it agreed. Rockruff still looked curiously blank, but Kukui didn't comment, not wanting to
stop Ash from continuing his train of thought.
"But sometimes, when things are hard, belief isn't enough. But I always want to help my pokemon,
no matter what that means," Ash said, glancing back up at Rotom. "I mean, anything's easier if you
do it together, right? So I put everything I have into helping my pokemon. All my energy, all my
strength! If both me and my pokemon do that, working together as one team, there's no way we can
lose!"
"And you do that with… some kind of energy transferral?" Rotom asked. "This doesn't not seem
scientifically plausible."
Not that Kukui strictly disagreed, but he did feel the need to point out, "Well… a Z-move does draw
on the power of a trainer to enhance a pokemon's abilities, so when you think about it…"
Rotom beeped, its screen flashing with question marks. "I do not understand. There must be some
proper research to explain this phenomenon."
"Not that I've ever read," Kukui said slowly. "Though one of my colleagues at the lab is making
overtures toward it."
"Overtures?" Ash repeated blankly.
"Working towards working on it. She's curious about the way humans affect pokemon, though her
current focus is mostly on trying to measure Z-move output," he said. And thank goodness for that.
Acacia could be a bit of a quack, sometimes – she believed in the stories of human psychics, witches,
aura users, and empaths, and every so often her research derailed into comparisons between
human and pokemon 'special abilities'. Like a human could actually do the same thing a pokemon
did. He made a mental note not to ever let her talk to Ash – they would only be a bad influence on
each other. "But in most of the research that has been done, the connection we're talking about is
usually only noticed in battle. You seem to be implying it's always there."
"Sure," he said. "Why would it only be about battle? It's not like every pokemon is only interesting in
fighting. I mean, didn't you say that there are some Z-moves that aren't attacks?"
"Oh, look at that. You listened to my lecture?" he joked, and Ash laughed and shook his head, jerking
his thumb toward himself.
"I don't think this whole bond thing is about battle. I don't think it ever was. I think it's just easier to
see there. Because, I mean, me and Pikachu didn't connect when it was about battle for months. It
was only when we were goin' up against Team Rocket that we got anywhere close to how we are
now," he said. "I don't think we were really on the same wavelength in battle until we took on the
Vermillion City gym, and it wasn't like we were perfect from then on. That took ages. Right, buddy?"
"Pika," it agreed, and Ash smiled before leaning around to meet Litten's gaze.
"And me and Litten? I feel like we connected when I met Stoutland. When I saw how much they
cared about each other. That has nothing to do with how we battle."
"Mrrow," it said quietly, shifting a little closer toward him, while Kukui blinked and Rotom beeped
again.
"When we met Stoutland?" it repeated. "But that was when you decided not to catch Litten!"
"You… connected with a pokemon, and didn't want to catch it?" Kukui asked curiously.
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"Sure," he said again. "It's not that weird, right? I mean, it's like making a friend. Just because you're
friends doesn't mean you have to be together."
"Making a friend?" Kukui repeated curiously.
"Well, that's what it feels like to me," he said. "It's that same warm feeling. Wanting them to be
happy and strong, and to be the best that they can be. Like a friend."
"Huh…"
There was a horrible part of Kukui that couldn't help thinking that sometimes, Ash really sounded
like a greeting card. Even worse was that he genuinely seemed to believe everything he said. So
maybe it shouldn't have been so odd, but still…
"And… even with all that, you're happy to let them go?"
"Well, yeah," he said blankly. "I want the best for all my friends. And it's not like following me
around is gonna be the best for everyone. Especially pokemon – a lot of them just aren't meant for
league battles, or even travelling!"
"Very… true…" But not something you often heard from someone who did try to catch pokemon the
traditional way sometimes. In fact, here in Alola you usually only got that from Aether Foundation
employees, or people who only had one or two pokemon.
Also… the way he approached it… if he put aside the 'bond' side of what they were talking about,
and applied it as friendship, on as wide a scale as Ash was…
He had to say he was impressed, in the same mildly concerned way he was about all of Ash's oddly
adult ways of looking at the world. "That's a very mature attitude. Most people your age really
struggle with having to say goodbye to the people they care about."
He shrugged, his gaze drifting off to the side again. "It's not like it's easy. But it would really selfish to
make someone stay with you just because you want them there," he said, and closed his eyes, his
expression closing off even as he kept speaking. "But even if I can't be with them, or see them, or
even know what they're doing… I still care about my friends. I still want to be there for them. So
we're always connected."
"I suppose…" Kukui winced, trying to follow the logic back around to their original conversation. "But
if you're always connected to those pokemon that you've left behind, does that mean there's always
a part of your energy that's devoted to it?"
He looked up, surprised, then made a face. "I don't think so. It's really only Greninja that I'm always
really connected to, so –"
"Who is Greninja?" Rotom interjected. "You mentioned that name before."
"Huh? Oh, uh, Greninja's one of my pokemon," Ash explained. "It had to stay in Kalos."
"I do not have any record of this pokemon in my databanks."
"That's because it's not native or related to any Alolan pokemon," Kukui said quickly, trying not to
derail the conversation. "Greninja are unique to Kalos." Then he paused, the logic catching him off-
guard. "But if Ash caught it, then I don't see why it would have had to stay there. It's not restricted at
all."
"No, it just had a job to do," he said simply, then grinned. "I think it was working pretty hard this
morning. Between you and me, I think that was why my head's still a bit funny."
Kukui raised an eyebrow, lost again, but Pikachu's jaw had dropped, and it stared at Ash for several
seconds before suddenly waving its arms furiously.
"Pikapi! Pika pika!"
"What's wrong?" Ash asked, raising his eyebrows. "Are you worried about me? You don't need to –
I'm fine."
"Pika!"
"No, really, buddy! It's never a big deal anymore. You'd know if it was, right?"
"Pi… pikachu! Pika pipi pikachu!" it cried, waving even harder. "Pikachu pipika pikachu!"
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"I was distracted!" he said with a laugh. "You try walking around a tree when you're trying to hit a
root!"
"Pikachu!"
"Uh, Ash?" Kukui interrupted, and Pikachu glared at him, but went otherwise ignored. "Is there
something I should know?"
"Mm, not really," he said. "It's all okay now. It's just what we were talking about before. Greninja
needed me this morning, and it would've been fine, only with everything that happened with
Shiinotic, I wasn't really up to it."
He paused, then blinked and straightened up a little. "Hey… this is what you're always talking about
with how you can't use two Z-moves in a battle!"
Kukui stared. "What?"
"I never thought about it like that!" he said, and pumped his fist again, like he finally understood
something. "When you use a Z-move, you put so much of yourself into it. I mean, I always feel so
powered up after Pikachu and I do Gigavolt Havoc, but I guess that's just like a really quick version of
me and Greninja. If I did that all the time… whoa, that'd be so hard…!"
"Pikapi…" Pikachu sighed, but settled back down with a shake of its head, more exasperated than a
pokemon would normally emote.
"But you said that stronger trainers can do multiple Z-moves in a battle, with different pokemon!"
Ash continued excitedly. "So if I get stronger, then so could I! Maybe I could even do a Z-move with
Greninja! How cool would that be?"
"Pii-kaaa," Pikachu deadpanned, rolling its eyes, while Kukui began to feel like he was floundering.
"Can you imagine it, Pikachu?" Ash gushed, staring up into the middle distance with starry eyes. "A
fully Z-powered Water Shurinkan! Or a Cut! Oh my gosh… Aerial Ace! Professor Kukui! What's the
flying-type Z-move?!"
Kukui gaped back. He… his mind was still somewhere back on the whole 'giant root' thing. "Flying
type…?"
"Let me explain!" Rotom said happily. "The Flying Type Z-move attack is called 'Supersonic Skystrike'.
It is a devastating attack from above."
"So cool…! I so want to see it!"
Kukui let him go with a sigh to match Pikachu's. Ash was clearly lost in visions of Z-moves and getting
stronger, which meant they had absolutely no chance of getting anything more sensible on the
whole 'bond' conversation topic, let alone whatever Ash and Pikachu had almost gotten into an
argument about.
But it did raise an interesting point. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and fired off a quick
message to Acacia. Maybe it was about time someone actually did put some science into the human-
pokemon bond.
"What you're talking about is fairly well documented, if not properly explored outside of its
evolution effects," Acacia said blandly, tossing her sylveon's pokeball one-handed. "It's basically the
Affection modifier, isn't it?"
"Maybe…" He looked out onto the training field. Sylveon and Espeon were chasing each other
around the course, playing rough in the way only the closest of friends could get away with. "What
kind of effects can Affection have on a pokemon?"
"Well, obviously evolution," she said, gesturing to her pokemon. "I've also noticed it has an impact in
battle, as well. Some pokemon can even resist poisoning or confusion just because they don't want
their trainers to worry about them. But it's proving pretty hard to quantify. There are so many
variables."
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Kukui folded his arms over his chest, brow furrowed as he considered it. "But that's all on the
pokemon. They overcome it in themselves for the sake of the trainer. The trainer doesn't give
anything in return."
"Careful, Kukui. Aren't you the one who told me not to get carried away with 'fantasy notions' about
humans with powers?" she asked dryly, and he slanted a deadpan look right back at her.
"Pokemon can't use Z-moves without a human trainer to give them the ability. What is it that the
trainer gives their pokemon to enable the move?"
"Affection," she said bluntly. "Support. Trust. If we're not allowing the possibility of a human having
actual 'powers', quote-unquote, then it would have to be an increased level of dopamine or
adrenaline in the pokemon, inspired by a trainer's enthusiasm and emotional support." She looked
at him directly, her mild smile doing absolutely nothing to blunt her facetious tone as she added,
"Ignoring, of course, the visible light show coming from the human trainer and connecting with the
pokemon performing the move. That doesn't have quite so much of an explanation."
And thus, the crux of the matter. "That light… it does imply something else, doesn't it?"
"Mmhm," she said, but turned back to her pokemon. "But that, according to the ethics committee, is
a spiritual issue and should be left to the kahunas."
"Is it, though?" he asked. "We quantified Affection and Friendship. Why not this?"
She shrugged. "Until I can prove that it's more than just a pokemon increasing their power level to
perform a Z-move, I don't have justification to study the human side of things," she added with a
grimace. "I think it's something to do with Sycamore's research. Mega-evolution energy is so close to
how Z-moves work, after all. They probably want him to figure it out first. Pokemon Professors
should get the glory, right, Professor Kukui?"
He huffed out a laugh, but couldn't really find much amusement in it. He was too distracted by her
point. There was a light when you performed a Z-move. And when he thought about it… sometimes
in battle, when a trainer was really getting into it, just as Ash had described, you could swear there
was a kind of… fire about them. An energy so tangible you could almost see it.
Martial artists talked about it sometimes. Those with lucario called it aura, but others called it ki.
Boxers and wrestlers like himself were more likely to just call it getting fired up. But there was
always… something. He'd never given it much thought before.
"You said the ethics council told you to leave it to the kahunas?" he asked.
"Mmhm. They said I was talking about spiritual energy, and therefore not something science should
meddle with," she said. "Not without all four kahunas approving it. And since we don't have four,
and Nanu is ignoring pretty much every email sent to him anyway… here I am, instead studying
energy levels and battling Aether Foundation every step of the way. Again."
He ignored that, because to do otherwise would invite another rant he didn't want to have to listen
to. "So it's possible that the kahunas may know something."
"I guess. But they probably write it off as magic, so they're hardly any use, are they?"
He hummed vaguely. It was worth the question, at any rate.
Annex : Buried Cries
The Year 1968
"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
George Santayana (1863 - 1952)
SOMEWHERE IN VIETNAM, SOMETIME DURING 1967-1968
His fragile physique and thin face made him look much older than his real age. His grey hair had
receded, showing his high forehead. His beard had shrunk into a few sparse white strands hanging
under his chin. With sunken cheeks and dull eyes, he had lost the distinguished, though pretentious,
appearance of an elderly patriarch.
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He had been in bed for several weeks due to declining health. After being sick on and off for several
years, many months of which were spent in a neighboring country, perhaps his time had come. He’d
had his will updated in anticipation of his death, and this was the third time he had done so.
He was awakened by his aide, a middle-aged man who had been with him for almost twenty years.
The aide told him that his expected guest was waiting outside. He nodded and asked him to send his
guest in.
He sat up, leaned against the wall and smiled to his guest when he entered the room. His guest sat
on the edge of his bed and held his hand. They exchanged the usual pleasantries. His guest was a
close associate who had worked with him for more than twenty years.
“Everything is ready,” his guest said. “We just need your approval.”
He nodded. “Yes, please proceed as soon as possible.”
“Including the code-red operation?”
“Of course. Why does it need to be approved?”
“You know how our system works. They cannot carry out such an operation without an explicit order
from the top.”
“Fine. Give them my direct order to carry out the code-red operation. Tell them to maximize the
terror to make examples to others.”
His guest soon left, leaving him alone.
He looked out the window at the huge pond outside his stilt house with tired eyes. He knew his
guest’s visit was merely a formality. They didn’t actually need his approval. He was just a figurehead.
They had already approved it themselves, but they still wanted to use him to legitimize their
decision. The people still looked up to him, and his approval, though only a formality, would boost
their morale. His men had learned his tricks well.
The operation was a secret directive as part of a campaign that his men had devised many years
earlier. It was now at a crucial point of the campaign and it had been increasingly important for the
operation to be carried out to support the campaign.
It was a critical campaign, one that could decide the fate of his country. This was a moment he had
been waiting for, and he had been afraid he might not live to witness its success. But now the
moment was at hand. He was happy. He could die with a smile on his face.
A light breeze swept in through the window, carrying the sweet smell of the flowers in his garden.
He felt light-hearted. His thoughts wandered. He relived his years, as he had been doing in the past
few months. He recalled events, remembering conversations, speeches, letters. He wanted to make
sure he would not miss anything before he died. He wanted his death to be a legacy for many
generations to come.
He thought about how he had reached the point he was now. A quote by Abraham Lincoln crossed
his mind: “You can fool all the people some of the time, and some of the people all the time, but you
cannot fool all the people all the time.” He giggled like a young girl. Each time he was reminded of
that quote, he just laughed. Why not? He was living proof that Lincoln was wrong. He was one who
could fool all the people all the time, most likely even after his death. All of the people. Not just his
people. The world was full of stupid people, except, of course, for him. The people of his country had
been fooled for a long time. The outsiders, the foreigners, were fooled even more. They knew
nothing about him. How could they possibly know? They didn’t understand the language and the
culture, they didn’t breathe the air here, they didn’t live on this land, their parents were not killed
here, their properties were not confiscated, their landowner grandparents were not accused by their
servants or even their children of committing crimes against the people. His enemies and his victims
knew his tricks, but nobody would believe them. After their upcoming defeat, they might make
noise, but who would believe the losers? Soon, their voices would be ignored or dismissed. Soon,
everybody would be fooled forever. Abraham Lincoln was a fool.
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He had too many secrets. Not just about his names, his past whereabouts, his birthdate, his
insatiable craving for young and beautiful women, and his illegitimate children. Those were mere
trivia. There were many more. The plagiarism of Nguyễn Ái Quốc's political writings and the
anonymous Prison Diary, the sell-out of Phan Bội Châu, the fraudulent Soviet Nghệ Tĩnh revolt, the
Vietminh lies and deceptions, the fake August Revolution and the pretentious Declaration of
Independence, the exploitative Golden Week, the rigged elections, the massacre of the Nationalists,
the agreement with the French, the bloody Land Reform Campaign, the obsequiousness to
communist China and the Soviets, the violations of the Geneva Agreements, the brutal Nhân Văn
Giai Phẩm crackdown, the deception about ceding the Paracel and Spratly Islands to China, the
deceitful formation of the Liberation Front of South Vietnam, and the secret infiltration of troops
into South Vietnam. His cohorts had agreed to protect all of his secrets in a mutually beneficial deal.
He would be made a hero, having god-like stature that would exceed all of the forefathers of his
country, and his cohorts were free to exploit his image in any way they saw fit. It was a win-win
situation for him and his cohorts. The losers? The people of his country. Too bad! They had suffered
for thousands of years. Let them suffer for another thousand.
He smiled. His thoughts brought him comfort and relaxation. He had everything figured out, so there
was nothing left for him to worry about. He stretched his legs, heard the birds singing outside and
imagined the soothing sound of the water trickling through the rocks in his garden.
He touched the pillow and felt its softness, felt renewed by the smell of daffodils inside his room.
The noisy chirping of a group of birds outside attracted his attention. He cocked his head, listened to
the familiar melodic sounds, knowing that they would not change until the last rays of sunlight left
the window. He took a deep breath and enjoyed the fresh air and the aroma. He felt energetic and in
a moment of joy, he laughed uncontrollably. He coughed but still laughed into tears.
He had to take all of his secrets to his grave.
HUẾ, FEBRUARY 1968
Trần Thất Thu’s secret was about to be revealed, but he made no effort to conceal it. On the
contrary, he was ecstatic to tell the world who he really was. Things happened smoothly according
to plan. The regular North Vietnamese bộ đội soldiers and the fighters of the Liberation Front of the
South, referred to as the National Liberation Front (NLF) by the Western press, of which he was a
proud member, had overrun several sections of Huế in the first few days of the general uprising. He
had received orders from Lê Minh, the Communist District Security Chief, to begin the next phase of
the operation. The mood was one of excitement. Everybody had been anxious for the moment and
now it had arrived in all its full glory.
Earlier in the morning, he had summoned his team, consisting of long-rooted underground agents
and newly recruited fighters, to assign the tasks of gathering all the Huế residents whose names
were on the black list. He distributed weapons, mostly AK-47s, to the team members and gave them
copies of the list with names and addresses.
“Go to each house and call them out,” he said to his team.
“What if they resist or don’t come out?” one member asked.
“Use any necessary means to carry out the order. We are authorized to use Revolutionary Violence
to maximize the terror. We must make examples for other reactionaries.”
“Should we spare women and children?”
The order contained no provision about women and children. But if the order didn’t mention it, it
meant that the provision was not important.
“No,” he said without hesitation. “Take any necessary steps to accomplish the task. Don’t let
emotion interfere with your mission. You know our motto: the end justifies the means. We have a
higher objective to achieve.”
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Several bộ đội’s wanted to join his team in the hunt. They had never been to a city belonging to the
puppet government and they wanted to find out what it looked like and how the people would
respond to their liberation mission.
“By all means, please join us,” he said, smiling at the young bộ đội leader. “But bear in mind that the
people we are about to bring in are reactionary. They haven’t yet appreciated our sacrifice and
kindness.”
They formed into groups of about ten members each. Some rode motorcycles. Some walked. The bộ
đội preferred walking because they didn’t know how to ride motorcycles and they were used to
running on their feet. With green pith helmets on their head, loose khakis, supplies and food bags on
their waists, and half-baked faces, these teenaged bộ đội’s looked like lost uniformed schoolboys.
But it didn’t matter; their AK-47s were not toys.
He had rounded up over fifty black-listed reactionary men, mostly low- to middle-ranking officials of
the local puppet government. Other than the usual begging and crying, the Huế people behaved
remarkably well. At first, he talked nicely to them because some of them knew him as their friend.
He reassured the families that their loved ones would be taken for reeducation for one day and they
would return. But when he saw their terrified expressions at the sight of his menacing AK-47, he was
thrilled with his newly acquired power. He began shouting and beating them with the stock of his
AK-47. The sensation was indescribable, and he loved it.
His last target for the day would be Vũ Tấn Phong, an anti-communist student at Huế University
where Thu was an enrolled student. He hated Phong’s guts. He had befriended Phong and
pretended to be anti-communist. He gained Phong’s trust with his concocted story about how his
relatives were killed by the Vietcong (VC). They had gone out on several occasions to chat over
coffee and lunch. Phong believed that he was his close friend, and had shared with him stories about
his family. The guy acted as if he were an intellectual, knowing all the Marxist theories and
Communist doctrines. His father was a South Vietnamese officer stationed in the highland. Thu put
Phong’s name on the blacklist for the reason that he worked as an undercover spy student for the
puppet government. Why would an undercover agent publicly denounce Communism? his superior
asked. It’s their trick, Thu answered. It didn’t matter whether Phong was an undercover agent. He
was reactionary and a son of a South Vietnamese military man and that was enough to put him on
trial. His crime was compounded further by his friendship with a South Vietnamese infantry officer.
He had met this officer once when they were at a café and heard about his courtship with Phong’s
sister, Lan, a pretty twenty-year-old university student.
Phong’s house was located in a quiet neighborhood. When his team arrived, the streets were
empty--not a soul in sight. Everybody was probably hiding inside.
He knocked at the door. “Open up.”
Nobody answered. He asked his men to pound on the door with their AK-47s and shouted loudly.
Finally, Phong’s grandfather opened the door and his team rushed in.
“Where is Phong?” he asked the trembling old man.
The old man was shocked at seeing Thu with a bloodthirsty face. Gone were the polite behavior, the
respectful manners, the pleasant demeanor. “Thu, is that you?” The old man still couldn’t believe his
eyes.
Thu shouted. “Old man, are you deaf? I asked you a question. Where is Phong?”
The old man stammered. “He is not home. He went out somewhere, maybe to the university.”
“Search every room and bring all of them out,” Thu ordered his men.
Soon, the entire family was gathered in one corner. The old man and his wife, Phong’s mother and
her three children, Lan and two young boys. Thu let them sit on the family sofa. He held his AK-47
and walked back and forth in front of them.
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“I don’t want to waste any more time,” he said. “Let me know where Phong is and we will leave
you.”
He stopped and waggled his finger at them. “And don’t lie to me. If you lie, I will come back and kill
all of you.”
Phong’s mother, a middle-aged woman with a pleasant face, begged him. “Thu, I don’t know where
he is. He went out this morning without telling us where he went.”
Maybe she was telling the truth. Phong had a habit of going out without telling his family, and he
always went to the university. Phong’s mother had always been nice to him. He was wearing the
sweater she had knit for him as a gift for his birthday. Thu was about to soften his voice when Giao,
one of his men and also a student at Huế university, came in from the backyard.
“His Honda is still in the back,” Giao said.
Thu’s blood was boiling. These people are really stubborn. It’s time to use revolutionary violence.
“He never leaves without his Honda,” he shouted, waving his AK-47. “I told you not to lie to me. This
is your last chance. Where is Phong?”
The old man clasped his hands and implored, “Mr. Thu, we are telling you the truth. We don’t know
where he went. His friends picked him up this morning.”
As the old man spoke, one of the boys, the old man’s grand-children, glanced at the ceiling. Thu
followed his glance and saw a square panel that looked like a cover for an opening to the attic. A
stool stood on the floor right below the panel.
Thu smiled. He walked to Lan, grabbed her arm and pulled her up. She trembled and tears rimmed
her eyes.
Thu pointed his gun at Lan’s head. “Phong,” he shouted. “I know you are up there. Climb down or I
will shoot Lan.” He knew how much Phong loved his sister.
The women cried, “Please, please, don’t shoot.”
Lan squirmed. “Anh Thu, anh Phong is not home.”
Thu ignored them. “I will count to three. If you don’t climb down, I will shoot Lan.”
“One,” he shouted.
“Two.”
“Three.”
As he stepped back and raised his gun, a voice came from the attic. “Don’t shoot. I am coming
down.”
Thu smiled.
The panel was removed and Phong’s face appeared. He lowered his body through the small opening,
and he dropped to the floor.
As soon as his feet touched the floor, Thu sprayed three rounds at him. The bullets exploded.
Phong’s body fell flat on the floor with blood splashed all over, reddening his white shirt.
The women emitted shrieking screams like animals being slaughtered. Phong’s mother sprung to her
son’s bloody body and collapsed next to him. She screamed hysterically, “Oh my God. My son. My
son.” She pounded the floor with her fists. Her head bobbed up and down. Her face was distorted,
covered with tears and blood.
The grandfather stood up. He clenched his teeth and pointed his finger in Thu’s face. “Thu, you are
an animal. God will not forgive you.”
Thu turned his AK-47 toward the old man and shot a single shot at his face. The old man dropped on
the sofa.
Thu walked out of the house. He ordered his men. “Bring the girl along.”
Five kilometers from the murder scene at Phong’s house, in the citadel, the Hotel company, 1st
Battalion, of the U.S. Fifth Marines was making virtually no progress. They advanced twenty meters,
only to be pushed back the same distance by enemy machine guns firing ferociously from the roof of
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a building. Lieutenant Hummel was calling for air and artillery support, but he had difficulty getting
through.
Toàn and Brad took a brief break when the firing stopped. They sat down and leaned against a wall
alongside the sidewalk of a wide street. Brad passed Toàn a Marlboro cigarette.
Brad took a puff and inhaled deeply. “Aren’t you going to check with your CO to see how your units
are doing?”
Toàn put his M-16 down on his lap, and lit his cigarette. “No, I don’t want to bother them. Our men
are exhausted at the division compound.”
“Is your CO upset that you haven’t returned?”
“No, he understands. Your LT’s explanation with his American advisor is good enough. My
knowledge of the building and the NVA positions is the most valuable intelligence information you
guys have right now. You guys need me here to finish this job.”
“Well, it’s not just the most valuable intel info. It’s the only intel info we have.”
“It shocks me that our guys have absolutely no idea what’s going on.”
“It shocks me too.”
He glanced at Toàn and saw the tattoo on the back of his hand.
“Hey, what’s that tattoo?”
Toàn smiled. “It’s for my girlfriend, my friend’s sister. We are going to get married after all of this is
over.”
“Does she live around here?”
Toàn flicked the cigarette ash onto the ground. “Yes, she does. In fact, I was planning to swing by her
house to see if she is OK.”
Brad smiled. “Now that makes sense. We’ve been wondering why you got stuck in this building in
the first place.”
“Hey, I got stuck in the building not because I was planning to go see her. Our unit was retreating
and I was supposed to be the last person to pull out when the NVAs swarmed the place. It was too
late for me to get out without being seen.”
“Whatever you say, Lieutenant.”
Toàn laughed. “You saw it with your own eyes. If they court-martial me, you are going to be my
witness.”
“I will have returned to the U.S. by that time.”
Toàn paused, and his voice turned serious. “By the way, I don’t know if I have said this, but I really
appreciate your coming to my rescue. Jimmy and Nick told me you insisted on going to the building
when you saw me killing the three NVAs there.”
He extended his hand. “Thank you very much for saving my life.”
Brad shook his hand vigorously in a mocking manner. “No problem, Lieutenant.”
“Corporal, could you cut that ‘Lieutenant’ shit?”
Rounds of a machine gun stopped their conversation. They threw their cigarettes away and grabbed
their M-16s.
“We have to silence this annoying son-of-a-bitch,” Brad said.
“What happened to our air and artillery?”
“Let me check.”
Before he darted out of his position, Lieutenant Hummel appeared from the corner of the street. He
waved to Brad. Brad hunched toward him behind the low wall.
“What’s up, LT?” Brad asked.
“There will be no prep fire, but we can have tanks and Ontos in an hour.”
“No air or artillery? Why?”
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“Weather and arcane rules of engagement. The Vietnamese commanders do not want to destroy
their own citadel.”
“What? You are joking, right?’
“No, I am dead serious. We are pinned down here because some shithead in the Command Post
wants to preserve their historic site.”
“Fucking shit. By the time it’s all over, they wouldn’t have a site to preserve. The NVAs don’t care
about it.”
“That’s OK, corporal. It’s not our concern for now. Can you hold on for an hour?”
“As long as they keep their position, we’ll keep ours.”
“I am not sure if they will keep their position. Sooner or later, they will have to break out.”
“We can’t stop them. That ARVN Lieutenant said there are about two NVA companies in there.”
Hummel frowned. “Damn!”
Brad bit his lip. ”OK, one hour.”
Hummel nodded, smiling. “Good, one hour. I will send Buck’s squad to strengthen your position.”
Brad returned to Toàn. “We have to hold on for an hour until tanks and Ontos arrive.”
“No sweat.”
“Your commanders do not want air and artillery because they want to preserve the historic site of
your dead kings.”
Toàn cocked his head. “Why do I detect some bitterness in your voice?”
“I can’t help it,” Brad said, his voice indignant. “We have superior firepower and we can’t use it.”
Toàn didn’t say a word. His silence infuriated Brad.
He blurted out. “Your fucking historic site. They want to preserve the palaces of your fucking dead
kings. What did those dead kings do for your country anyway? Let me tell you what history is. If they
don’t level those useless halls and palaces, we will be history for sure.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I am talking about the fact that our men are dying because your goddamned Generals don’t want to
bomb those gooks hiding deep inside your fucking historic site.”
Toàn’s blood boiled. What the fuck do you know about history? Your country has only two hundred
years of history, and that’s not even history. Your ancestors came from the British, the Irish, the
French, and occupied the Indian lands. You call that history? Your people didn’t even have an
identity. What the fuck are you doing here anyway? Are you helping us to fight against the
Communists, against the Red Chinese and the Russians, or are you here because of some Generals in
your fucking Pentagon and your congressmen who take so much donation money from the fucking
military industrial complex to build airplanes, helicopters, bombs, tanks, that they have to send you
guys to this small country of ours to justify your defense budget?
Of course, he was not going to yell those words to Brad who had saved his life and who was fighting
with him against the same enemy. But the suppressed emotional outburst choked him. He clenched
his teeth and gripped the M-16 stock.
“Corporal,” he said calmly after taking a deep breath, “are you talking to me or are you talking to
yourself? If you are talking to me, I want to remind you that you are addressing an officer. You’d
better watch your language.”
Brad was dumbfounded. He knew disrespect toward a superior commissioned officer was an offense
punishable by court-martial, but disrespect toward an allied officer? He was not even disrespectful.
He was just expressing his opinion. But he knew what he said was uncalled for. The Vietnamese
ARVN Lieutenant didn’t have to stay with his squad, exposing himself to danger. He was here
because he wanted to help his unit retake the area occupied by the enemy. Brad immediately
regretted his outburst.
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“Lieutenant,” he said, “I apologize for my remark. It’s just that one of my men was wasted this
morning.”
Toàn swallowed hard. “No problem. You’d better go tell your men.”
“That’s right.”
“By the way, if you want to know what these dead kings did to our country, perhaps you should
consider studying our history when you finish your tour of duty.”
“I will think about it.”
Brad crawled to his men who were kneeling behind the wall.
Toàn crushed the cigarette butt on the ground. He looked up to the cloudy sky, trying to calm
himself. He was shocked at how easily he got upset by Brad’s words. The American was just speaking
his mind, and in a way, he had reasons for saying what he said. His men died because the enemy was
allowed to hide safely inside the building. Besides, he didn’t appreciate the needs of preserving the
historic site partly because he was fighting on somebody else’s land.
He cursed himself for being overly sensitive. The Communists knew how to fight psychological
warfare. Their attack right in the heart of Huế and the Imperial Palace, at the holy days of the Tết
festival, indicated how shrewd they were. They didn’t care about the historical value of the Imperial
Palace and the dead Emperors, although these were also their ancestors. They didn’t even care
about the sacred meaning of the first days of the New Year.
Soon, he calmed down. He decided not to let his anger interfere with his mission. He looked at the
tattoo on the back of his hand and smiled. Every time he was upset, looking at the tattoo always
brought him joy and peace of mind. It was an orchid tattoo. The long stem ran past his wrist, with a
single orchid at the center and several leaves. The colors had faded, but it didn’t matter. Orchid was
her name and each time he looked at the back of his hand, he was reminded of her. Images of Lan
slowly emerged in his mind and brought him peaceful and comfortable feelings. His thoughts drifted
to the days he had spent with her in the past six months.
She was a sister of Phong, a relative of his friend. One day, he and his friend went to a café and
bumped into Phong and Lan. Lan’s innocent beauty had struck him in that first meeting, and from
there, the love between a young girl and a young infantry officer blossomed.
Like most love stories in war, theirs was an innocent love story. He would write her letters when he
was away on a campaign. She would reply with short poems about war, peace, and their love. Her
dream was for peace when there would be no more fighting so that he could return to the civilian
life and build a family with her. Whenever he had a day off, he would see her. They would spend a
quiet evening sitting under the tree by the Perfume River.
In one memorable evening, they were holding hands and Lan saw the tattoo.
“What is this flower for?” she asked.
Toàn smiled. “Don’t you know what kind of flower it is?”
“It looks like an orchid.”
“That’s right. It’s your name. The flower is you. You are always with me.”
Lan looked at him. Under the bright moonlight, her lips trembled and her face radiated. He lowered
his head and kissed her. It was their first kiss. He held her in his arms. The tingling sensation thrilled
him.
She spread the back of his hand and pointed her finger at the orchid. “This is my heart. My heart is
always with you.”
“Yes, I will carry your heart with me everywhere I go.”
“Don’t let anything pierce through my heart. I will die if you let it happen.”
“I promise I will not.”
It was such a romantic evening. He squeezed her body with his arm, knowing that he would never
forget the moment.
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He didn’t know what was happening to Lan and her family. Her house was located in district III, in
the area that had been under communist control in the first few days of the attack. Her family might
be in trouble because her father was a commander of a tank unit stationed in the highlands. There
might be underground VCs in the area who would emerge as informants for the enemy. He hoped
they would spare her family. Phong, her brother, was just a university student and she was only a
twenty-year-old college student. What would they do to harm them? He had heard of stories of
savage acts of the VCs against government officials. Kidnapping and assassination were not
uncommon, but these acts were mostly targeted at the officials, not their families.
A series of grenade explosions interrupted his thoughts. He grabbed his M-16 and switched his
position. Brad was crawling back from the other end of the wall.
“What happened?” Toàn asked.
“Some NVAs are moving out of the building,” Brad said.
“Let’s roll.”
Phú didn’t know what to do. Together with hundreds of other captives, he sat on the ground of the
front yard of the Tĩnh Quan pagoda. On his right were an old couple in their fifties. On his left was a
young man in his twenties. They looked dazed and tired. Most came from the local neighborhood,
but some had walked there from other districts as far as three kilometers away. He had been caught
while hiding in a restroom in the Trần Hưng Đạo High School, only two blocks from the Tĩnh Quan
pagoda. A group of bộ đội, more than twenty boys and girls about his age, had searched the entire
high school, from the classrooms, the principal’s office, to the teachers’ lounge. A bộ đội girl stormed
into the restroom when she spotted him. He thought she would shoot him when she pointed her
gun at him.
“What are you doing here?” she shouted.
His teeth rattled and his legs trembled. “Thưa chị, I am cleaning the toilet.”
The girl poked her gun into his stomach. “Get out of here.”
When he got outside, he realized that he was not the only one. A dozen other people, including two
of his friends, Duyệt and Huy, had been rounded up. The bộ đội led them to the pagoda at gunpoint.
On the way, Phú was startled to see the bộ đội everywhere on the streets. Hundreds of them, in
green khaki uniforms, green pith helmets, with AK-47s dangling from their shoulders, swarmed
several blocks. Dozens of VCs in black pajamas also mingled with them. The bộ đội ran back and
forth, yelling to the captives in their Northern accent, which, with its heavy intonation, sounded like
a foreign language to Phú. He had heard people speaking with that accent before, but not with such
distinct enunciation and not that many. At the pagoda, their captors passed around papers and
ordered the captives to write down everything about themselves: their names, addresses,
occupations, and places where they had been in the past thirty years. He was only sixteen, so he
didn’t have to write much. After turning in the information sheets, the bộ đội led them to the front
courtyard and ordered them to sit down, row by row, according to the order that they turned in the
sheets.
Phú had silently counted the number of captives and came up with two hundred and fifteen, give or
take. Fourteen were women. Half were young people in their twenties and thirties, and half were
middle-aged in their forties and fifties. He saw only five or six boys his age. He spotted a few familiar
faces. Madam Hai had a stand selling breads for kids like him on the way to school. Mr. Lộc rented
out children’s books in his store across the street from where he lived. Miss Lan was a third-year
student at Huế University, and was a friend of his sister. She had come to his house a few times to
borrow books from his sister. They all looked frightened and nervous, submissively following the bộ
đội order without a word.
They sat on the ground, their faces darkened with anxieties. Once in a while, some glanced at the
spectators who were allowed to stand around behind a row of barbed wire. Many of the spectators
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were friends or relatives of the captives. Phú scanned the faces of these spectators to see if anyone
from his family was there, but he didn’t spot any of them.
Why was he here? Why were these people here?
They sat there for a long time without talking to each other. Earlier, one middle-aged bộ đội had
announced that they were forbidden to speak. They could go to the restroom if they raised their
hand for permission and then only one person was allowed to go at a time. It was like a group of
kindergarten kids. The bộ đội and the VCs appeared to be busy preparing for something, maybe a
speech about Marxism, or a lecture on the Americans and the puppet South Vietnamese
government. They brought a table and a few chairs to the courtyard. Two VCs, a young man and a
woman, both in their middle twenties, sat at the table, flipped through the information sheets,
stopped once in a while and talked to each other, and scribbled notes on the papers.
Phú had heard from his uncle that the communists loved to spread propaganda through lectures and
discussions glorifying communism and denouncing capitalism and imperialism. He didn’t really
understand much about the politics and the war. He was in the eleventh grade and was preparing to
take Part I of the National Baccalaureate Examination in the summer. His parents had died many
years ago and he was now living with his uncle who was a doctor at the hospital. This morning, when
he heard the mortar shell explosions and firings, he ran to the school in hopes of finding some
friends. Now sitting on the ground, he cursed himself for his stupidity.
By three o’clock, the bộ đội and the VCs appeared to finish with whatever they were doing. The two
VCs finished reading the information sheets and put them on the table.
A middle-aged man in a white shirt rode a Honda motorcycle into the courtyard. He dismounted and
strode to the table with brisk steps, ignoring the captives who were crammed together like a herd of
frightened sheep. The two VCs greeted him and ushered him to sit in the middle. As he positioned
himself in his chair, whispers spread among the captives. Phú didn’t know who the man was, but
from the reactions of many captives, he appeared to be a well-known local man.
The two VCs took their seats flanking him. The white-shirted man took out a K-54 pistol and held the
slide in his hand as if he was holding a gavel. Several VCs in black pajamas spread around, their
hands holding AK-47s.
The white-shirted middle-aged man swept his eyes across the captives and cleared his throat. He
pounded his pistol on the table to get their attention. It was quite unnecessary because everybody
was quiet and all eyes focused on him. He spoke with a clear Huế accent. “I am Mai Dinh Châu Cát,
representing the People’s Alliance for Democracy and Peace. Today, I preside over this People’s
Court to decide on the crimes committed by the criminals who are detained by the people.”
My God! What is he talking about? Phú asked himself. I committed a crime? I am detained by the
people? Are those bộ đội the people?
Châu Cát paused. “Assisting me in this proceeding are comrade Lê Thị Trang Tiết, sitting on my left,
and comrade Trần Thất Thu, sitting on my right.” He pounded the pistol on the table. “Let’s begin the
trial.”
Without wasting any time, Trang Tiết read the name of the first “criminal” listed on the paper.
“Nguyễn Đức Thắng, forty-two years old.”
Two VCs led the man sitting at one end of the first row to the front of the table. The man stood
erect, facing Châu Cát. The middle-aged bộ đội had told them that they were not supposed to speak
unless they were allowed to do so.
Thất Thu read from a paper. “Nguyễn Đức Thắng is the owner of Restaurant Miền Trung. The
restaurant is a disguise for his operation as a secret CIA operative. His activities are reactionary and
damaging to the revolution and peace of the people.”
He passed the sheet of paper to Châu Cát, who quickly glanced at it.
“The sentence is death,” Châu Cát said curtly.
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Everybody gasped. Whispers scattered in the crowd. Châu Cát pounded his handgun on the table.
“Quiet. Quiet. Restore order.”
The VCs waved their AK-47s. The crowd became quiet instantly.
Thắng raised his hand, perhaps wanting to ask permission to speak, but the two VCs pushed him
aside to other VCs who quickly led him away.
The entire trial lasted less than one minute.
Phú was stunned. He thought he was dreaming. Dozens of questions whirled through his mind. How
could this be? Can they do that? Are they really serious? Will Mr. Thắng be killed? Is this really a
trial? Where is the lawyer representing the accused? He was just a kid, but he knew the basics of a
criminal trial.
A person sitting behind him whispered, “They are just bluffing.”
That’s it! They are just bluffing. They are using scare tactics. They want to scare the captives as well
as the spectators. It has to be a bluff because if they really wanted to kill Mr. Thắng, they could have
done it without a trial. Why do they need to waste their time with this trial? With that thought, Phú
was relieved.
The next one was also a death sentence, also less than one minute. One by one, the criminals were
led to face the court, their crime was read, a sentence was announced, and they were led away.
Within an hour, one-third of the criminals had been sentenced with assembly line efficiency. The
majority, almost ninety nine per cent, received death sentences. A few criminals screamed in protest
when their sentences were announced. The VCs immediately beat them with their gunstocks and
they were led away. Some received light sentences with various types of punishment, like labor or
fines. Only one case was acquittal. When it was Duyệt’s turn, Phú was anxious.
Trang Tiết read, “Trần Văn Duyệt, sixteen years old.”
Thất Thu followed her. “Trần Văn Duyệt is a student at Trần Hưng Đạo High School. His father works
for the puppet government as a city clerk.”
"Because of his age and his father is only a low-level government official, Duyệt receives a light
sentence of labor,” Châu Cát announced.
Phú let out a sigh of relief. Duyệt was led to the right side of the courtyard, joining the few others
who received the same sentence. Duyệt lowered his head, avoiding the stares.
Soon, Lan was led to stand in front of the court.
Thất Thu smiled. He whispered in Châu Cát’s ear and Châu Cát nodded. Lan was shaking; tears rolled
down her face.
“Vũ Thị Lan is a student at Huế University,” Thất Thu announced. “Her brother was an extremist with
extreme reactionary thoughts. Her father is a high-ranking officer serving in the army of the puppet
government.”
“The sentence is death,” Châu Cát said.
Lan emitted a shriek and fell to her knees. Two VCs immediately dragged her away. They pulled her
tiny body like a dead animal. Her head flopped down and her legs trailed on the ground.
The sight agitated Phú. Lan’s reaction was somewhat extreme but it showed that whatever tactic
they were using, it had worked. He didn’t know if they were playing a game. The way they
conducted the trial, though peculiar and arbitrary, appeared serious. Could they spend time bluffing
in such a serious manner?
When his name was called, he tried to be calm and walked straight to the table. He crossed his arms
and gazed at Thất Thu. He knew his fate was decided by whatever Thất Thu said.
Thất Thu didn’t even look at him. He just read directly from the paper. He seemed to be tired and
just wanted to get it over with.
Page 107
His voice was a monotone. “Phạm Đình Phú is a student at Trần Hưng Đạo High School. He is an
orphan and lives with his uncle who is a doctor at the hospital. Although his uncle works for the
puppet government, he is helpful to the people.”
“Because of his age and his uncle’s position as a doctor who is useful to the revolution, Phú receives
a light sentence of labor,” Châu Cát said impassively.
Phú didn’t have time to react when a VC poked his AK-47 into his back and pushed him to where
Duyệt was standing. He and Duyệt exchanged glances with no expressions on their faces. Phú didn’t
know if he should laugh or cry, but he was afraid that any emotion he showed might cause him
trouble.
By six o’clock, the entire trial was finished. Six criminals received light sentences of labor. Four had to
pay fines. They were allowed to go home to get the money. One was acquitted. The rest received
death sentences.
Châu Cát then gave a speech to the rest of the audience, including the spectators. Phú didn’t care to
listen to what he said. He was thinking of what would really happen to those who received the death
sentences. Lan’s haunting scream and her tiny frame lingered in his mind.
The VCs led Phú and the other five boys inside the pagoda. Phú felt hungry but he did not dare ask
for food. He doubted they would feed him anyway. But he was thrilled when he saw several
Buddhist nuns preparing meals in the kitchen.
A middle-aged VC with a scar on his face pointed to a table in a corner. “You boys have fifteen
minutes to eat and then go to work.”
The boys ate in silence. Strangely, Phú had a big appetite although he was not fond of vegetarian
food.
After their meal, the scar-faced VC ordered them to carry bags of rice and ammunition from across
the streets to the pagoda. Phú was appointed to be the team leader because he looked muscular
and taller than the others. While working, Phú heard gunfire and explosions from a distance. He saw
smoke rising in the direction of the citadel. His hope heightened.
In the evening, the boys were allowed to rest for a while so they could continue working during the
night. Phú and his friends exchanged little conversation because they didn’t want to upset their
captors. The people’s court had shown how capricious these people were.
Each found a place in the backyard of the pagoda to rest or take a nap. Phú sat down and leaned
against the wall; he was exhausted. Images of what had happened during the people’s court
replayed in his mind. He wondered what would happen to the people who were sentenced to death.
Where are they now? He hadn’t spotted any other local residents after the end of the trial. The
spectators had been allowed to return to their homes, perhaps to bring the news to the loved ones
of the captives. Phú hoped his uncle would be fine. From what they said, it appeared that they had
some respect for doctors. They might need doctors and nurses later.
Soon he drifted off to sleep.
Phú was awoken by a shout. “Wake up.”
He opened his eyes. The scar-faced VC was kicking him. He immediately stood up. It was dark. He
must have slept for about an hour.
The scar-faced VC rounded up all the boys. He gave them shovels and picks and led them to a corner
in the back of the pagoda.
“Dig a trench here,” the scar-faced VC ordered, pointing to an empty area behind a large tree and
bushes.
“Sir, may I know how long, how deep and how wide?” Phú asked.
“Make it about two meters deep, two meters wide, and ten meters long.”
Before he left, the VC said, “Do it as quickly as you can. I will check back with you guys in an hour.”
Page 108
The boys started working immediately. Once in a while, a VC poked his head out from the window of
the kitchen and looked in the direction of where the boys worked. While working, Phú glanced
around. The streets were dark but there were some lights. He saw dozens of bộ đội walking on the
streets, holding AK-47s.
Escape would be impossible.
During a short break, the boys started to talk, but tried to keep their voices low.
“We have to get out of here as soon as we can,” Phú whispered.
“How? They are everywhere,” Duyệt said.
“Even if we run out of this area, where would we go?” Huy said. “There may be more of them on the
other side and they may catch us.”
Huy was right. From what the VCs said, they had already occupied the entire district, and possibly
the adjacent districts.
“We can’t stay here,” Phú said.
“Let’s wait till our soldiers come.”
“They are not coming. It’s been two weeks since the fighting started. If they planned to retake the
city, they should have come by now.”
“Are you saying that they abandoned us?”
“I don’t know. We just don’t know the situation. But it seems that they are not coming, at least for a
while.”
“But when I was peeing, I overheard them talking about not wasting bullets and to avoid making
loud noises at night for fear of revealing their location. It seems that they are afraid that our soldiers
are coming.”
“Maybe they are just being cautious; I doubt that our soldiers will come here to rescue us like
commandos.”
“If they are not coming, why do they want us to dig this trench? Isn’t this for their defense?”
Phú paused. He looked at what they had dug so far, only about two meters long, but two or three
men could fit in with their weapons and still have room to move around. The only thing that was
peculiar was that the location of the trench was in the back of the pagoda, somewhat hidden from
the front. If the trench was for defense, shouldn’t it be located right behind the front gate?
They returned to work to avoid suspicion from the watchful eyes of the VCs. The scar-faced VC
returned just before midnight and ordered them to dig a few more trenches.
The night was cold, and chilly breezes lowered the body heat of the sweaty boys. They worked
silently under the weak lights from an electric generator. Phú gave up thinking about escaping. He
was so tired that he just wanted to finish his job so that he could be allowed to sleep. His hands were
numb and his body was soaked with sweat.
By three forty-five in the morning, they had finished several trenches in the backyard. Piles of soil
and dirt stretched along beside them. By this time, Phú believed that the trenches would be used for
something else other than defense dugouts because the layout of these trenches looked random. He
thought of these trenches being used as graves. But for whom? He didn’t want to think about the
people who had been sentenced to death.
Sounds of steps from a distance stopped the boys. A group of people were marching toward them.
Phú rested his hands on his shovel, gazing at the approaching crowd. A helmeted VC in a white shirt
and green bộ đội trousers appeared; he was holding an AK-47 at his waist. Behind him were a dozen
men and women escorted by three VCs in black pajamas; AK-47s dangled from their shoulders. Phú
jolted when he saw the familiar faces of the death-sentenced criminals. They walked with some
difficulty. It was only when they came closer that Phú knew why. They were tied with their hands
behind their backs and chained together with telephone cords. One after another. Some walked
barefooted, some with sandals.
Page 109
Phú was shocked at how a day had changed them. They all looked worn out. The dirty rags stuffed in
their mouths left their eyes as the only source of expression; their sunken and dazed eyes exhibited
no vitality.
The VCs in black pajamas ordered their tied captives to stand next to the trenches. Phú saw Lan
standing there; she was pale and haggard. Her dazed eyes stared at some invisible target.
The VCs stepped back, their cold faces darkened. One held his AK-47 as if he was about to shoot. Phú
trembled.
“You all committed crimes against the people and the revolution,” the white-shirted VC announced.
The VC in black pajamas raised his gun and shot a single round at the face of the man standing at
one end of the chain. Without emitting a sound, the man fell into the trench, pulling others with
him. As one fell, the next one fell, and all the rest tumbled into the trench. They screamed but their
screams were muffled by the rags in their mouths to mere whimpers. Some tried to get up but
couldn’t because of the weight of others.
“Fill it up, quick!” The white-shirted VC shouted to the boys.
Phú was petrified. He couldn’t move. The other boys stood still.
The VCs poked the boys with their AK-47s. The white-shirted VC struck Phú on his back with the
gunstock. “Do it now, or I will shoot you!”
“No,” Phú cried.
The men and women in the trench squirmed violently. One man pushed himself up above the
ground at the rim of the trench, his hands still tied behind his back, but a VC struck his head with the
AK-47 stock. The man emitted a dull screech from his gagged mouth and fell down. The VC turned
around and poked his gun into one of the boys. “Fill it up!”
The boy wiped his tears. He hesitated, then slowly scooped the soil from the pile on the ground and
tossed it into the trench. Phú, Duyệt, Huy and the other boys stood still, tears covering their faces.
The white-shirted VC raised his AK-47 and aimed at Phú’s head. “I am serious, fill it!”
Phú swallowed hard. He pushed the shovel into the pile of fresh soil, held the handle in one hand
and wiped his tears with the other hand, pressed the edge of the shovel with his foot, pulled it out
with soil on it, and hurled the soil into the trench. The rest of the boys followed him. Clumps of soil
dropped on the heads of the writhing victims in the trench. Some looked up at the boys, but had to
turn their heads to avoid the soil splattering on their faces. Soil and dirt quickly filled up their gagged
mouths. Another man tried to climb up on his knees, but was struck with a gunstock and fell back.
Lan was buried under two men. She kicked and pushed them out, but they fell back, toppling on her.
She wriggled under the weight of the men. She looked up. Pieces of black cloth in her mouth stifled
her scream. Her face was distorted with agony and terror. Her eyes met Phú’s. In one brief instant,
the distressing expression of her teary eyes pierced his heart.
He shoveled with fury. He clenched his teeth, gripped the handle, plunged it into the pile and flung
the dirt up without looking. Fistfuls of soil flew into the trench. His eyes were blurry. His ears were
ringing. But he kept plunging and hurling.
Somewhere from a distance, an explosion echoed in the quiet night.
Toàn heard the explosion. It must be from a mortar shell by the enemy somewhere in the west. He
paused and raised his hand. From a distance, Brad and Jimmy stopped, waiting for his signal. He let
one full minute pass.
It was four o’clock in the morning. The streets were dark, but the sun would rise in about two hours
and the Citadel would be bombarded with ferocious firing and shelling. Toàn gestured to the two
Marines to continue their cautious trot toward the building occupied by the NVAs. They crossed the
street one by one, at two-minute intervals. If the enemy saw any one of them and fired, at least the
other two would be alerted.
Page 110
The building was now only about two hundred yards ahead. Dark and quiet. But Toàn knew that
dozens of the NVAs were still wide awake. He had stayed there with them one night and he knew
their routine.
Earlier, Lieutenant Hummel had approved their request to carry out the mission of stealthily getting
inside the building to neutralize the machine guns that had pinned the Marines at their positions for
an entire day. Hummel had been reluctant to authorize the mission, but after seeing the
ineffectiveness of the tanks and the Ontos vehicles, he had no choice. Repeated requests for air and
artillery support had been denied. At the same time, orders from the top command had become
more and more urgent and compelling. The Marines had to retake the building as soon as possible.
The Generals were very nervous. Washington didn’t want to see Huế constantly in the headlines.
When Toàn first told Brad about his idea to infiltrate the building to knock out the machine guns,
Brad thought the South Vietnamese Second Lieutenant was insane.
“Are you on drugs?” Brad asked incredulously.
“No, not at all. On the contrary, I am thinking as clear as a bell,” Toàn said calmly.
“So, why do you suggest that we commit suicide?”
“It’s better than sitting here watching our M-48s or Ontos squeezing through the narrow streets and
getting blown up by B-40 rockets.”
“And you think your strategy of kamikaze would work?”
“How can it be a kamikaze mission when the plan is to get inside their building without their
knowledge?”
“How do we do that?”
“I know a secret way to get inside without being seen,” Toàn said with a cocky smile. “Don’t forget
that I searched the building thoroughly and I stayed there one night.”
“What secret way?”
“There is a tunnel connecting the sewer underground in the street to the utilities room in the
building and there is a stairway from the utilities room to the roof.”
Brad stared at Toàn, not knowing whether he was joking or serious.
Toàn’s face turned serious. “Trust me, Brad. I don’t know why the tunnel is there. The building is old;
it was built by the French and occupied by the Japanese during World War II. It has many secret
passageways. Perhaps the tunnel is used for a hideout.”
“And the stairway?”
“I think it’s mainly used by the maintenance people for quick access to the roof.”
“OK, I believe you. But suppose we are able to get to the roof without being detected, and suppose
we are able to kill all the gooks manning the machine guns there. How do you plan to get out of the
building?”
“The same way we get in. As soon as we’re done, we’ll leave through the tunnel and there is no way
they can find us.”
It sounded like the plot of a poorly written war novel, but Brad was intrigued. He and Toàn talked
more about the plan and in the end he was convinced that it was doable. The two walked up to
Hummel and presented the idea. After several hours of back and forth discussions, Hummel agreed
to let Toàn lead Brad and Jimmy to carry out “the most impossible fucking” – Hummel’s words -
mission he’d ever heard.
The manhole that led to the tunnel was located in an alley near the sidewalk on the street behind
the enemy building. Toàn and his American comrades had to walk around the blocks through a
shortcut so they could approach the building from behind. Even with the shortcut, it had taken them
almost an hour and now they were only two hundred yards from the building.
The streets were completely empty. Residents must have run away from the area when the fighting
started. Toàn was quite familiar with this particular block because he had been here several times
Page 111
over the years. The alley where the manhole was located was next to the grocery store that he
frequented each time he came to this part of the city. The enemy would not believe they could
approach the building from behind. They didn’t know there was a shortcut to get here from the
streets across the building. Their watch posts were fully alert, but they didn’t know about the tunnel.
From this location onward, Toàn didn’t want to go out on the streets to avoid exposure. It was dark,
but the enemy could still spot movements. He led Brad and Jimmy through the houses and stores,
navigating the two-hundred-yard distance through the small alleys and detours. Soon, they reached
the manhole. It was completely shielded from view by high walls on both sides of the alley.
The silence and darkness gave Toàn an eerie feeling. He signaled to Brad and Jimmy to remove the
lid on the manhole. It was unlocked. The two Marines lifted the lid slowly while Toàn stood guard. It
was a medium-sized opening, large enough for an American Marine loaded with gear to get through.
Toàn had drawn a diagram to show them the tunnel. It was on the right about two yards from the
manhole, partially hidden behind a wall. The sewage was on the left.
Toàn was the first to go. He lowered his body through the hole, trying to keep his M-16 from
touching the rim. One by one, they eased down through it. Jimmy was the last one in. He raised the
lid above his head and carefully brought it down to exactly the same position as before.
Once on the ground, Toàn was relieved. At least they didn’t have to worry about being seen by the
enemy. He turned on his flashlight and led the Marines to the tunnel. Ignoring the stench from the
filth in the sewage, they held their breath, crawled through the tunnel on all fours while keeping
their gear off the ground. It was an agonizing and tiring exercise, something that they had never
practiced during their military training.
After half an hour of crawling on their hands and knees, they reached the end of the tunnel. They
were now inside the enemy compound. Toàn gave a signal to rest. They sat on the ground, looking at
each other with white-circled eyes in soot-smeared faces. They sat in silence for a full five minutes
while focusing their attention on any sound coming from above them.
Toàn slowly stood up and peeked through a narrow slit between two rocks blocking the tunnel
opening. It was dark in the utilities room. He stared into the darkness for a while to adjust his
eyesight. He couldn’t see the entire room, but there was no sound, no steady breathing of a sleeping
NVA.
He nodded to Brad and the two slowly pushed the rocks aside, revealing a windowless empty room
with a helical staircase in one corner.
Toàn pushed himself up and crawled to the door. Brad and Jimmy followed. They clustered around
the staircase. Brad was baffled by its small size and narrow construction; it was like a staircase built
for boys in a playhouse. The foot-sized brick steps were connected together by two helical copper
pipes as handrails that wound up and around a vertically straight steel pole. Toàn had assured Brad
that the staircase was solid and should be able to sustain the weight of both of them, but now that
he faced it, he was not sure how Toàn could make that engineering estimate. Toàn knew he was
skeptical, but he didn’t want to explain. He pointed to the watch, telling them that they didn’t have
much time left. Brad looked at Jimmy and shrugged.
There was no point in hesitating. They would have to try it and see how it went. Toàn climbed up
first, followed by Brad. Jimmy would stay behind to provide back up when they retreated in case the
enemy discovered the utilities room. The staircase sank slightly as the two men made their initial
climb, but it appeared stable. It led the way up three floors to the roof. It was confined within a small
hollow vertical space and was blocked by the walls at each floor. The enemy would not be able to
see them, but they could hear them if they made any noise.
It was another agonizing climb. They took one step at a time. At each step, they paused and listened
for any indication of enemy presence. It was really quiet. At one point, Brad wondered if the NVAs
Page 112
had already left the building. However, as they approached the roof, they heard whispers and
smelled cigarette smoke. Definitely, there were NVAs on the roof.
The staircase led to an open space under the sky. As they climbed closer, the whispers became
louder. Toàn exited the staircase and glued himself to a wall. There was a tiny space for both of them
standing at the edge of the roof behind a wall. One slip and both would plunge three stories to the
ground below.
They held their breath, waiting. The NVAs were talking and smoking cigarettes. Brad smelled the
familiar Pall Mall scent. The NVAs must have picked up the American cigarettes in the building or
stores on the streets. They quietly and slowly took out their grenades with one hand while gripping
their M-16s with the other. Toàn took a peek around the wall onto the roof. He held up fingers so
that Brad could see the count, then opened and closed his hand twice. Four gooks and two machine
guns.
Toàn turned back and faced Brad. He nodded. It’s time for the assault. They mentally counted. One.
Two. Three.
Like a flash, both jumped away from the wall and fired their M-16s. Brad tossed his grenades to the
NVAs. The blast tore the silent air. The four NVAs didn’t have a chance.
The entire building woke up. NVAs swarmed out into the courtyard and looked up to the roof. They
screamed frantically while firing AK-47s in the air. Brad jumped to a DShK 0.51 caliber machine gun,
shoved away the NVA collapsed on top of it, squatted down and loaded the cartridge. He pointed
the machine gun downward and fired non-stop at the NVAs running every which way in the
courtyard. Caught by surprise, they didn’t know where the gunfire was coming from and in the initial
confusing minutes became easy targets.
Toàn darted to the other machine gun, a Russian made PK, mounted on the corner of the roof. Brad
reloaded the cartridge and looked up at Toàn. Under the pastel tones of the pre-dawn light, he saw
Toàn look back at him with a strange expression on his face. Before he knew what was going on,
Toàn raised his M-16 and fired several rounds. A shriek was emitted from behind him. He turned
around and saw the bloody face of the NVA they had shot earlier, but not enough to kill him, until
now. A pistol fell out of his hand.
Brad smiled and gave Toàn a thumbs up. Thank you for saving my life. We are now even.
Heavy running steps echoed from the main stairway leading to the roof. Toàn rushed back and
emptied his cartridge into the NVAs who were coming up.
“Let’s go. They know where we are,” Toàn shouted.
Brad shot several more rounds and rushed back to the staircase at the edge of the roof. He tossed
his grenades at the machine guns and fired his M-16 at the smashed guns, knocking both of them off
of the roof.
Brad climbed down the stairs while Toàn reloaded his M-16.
“Toàn, go, go,” Brad shouted.
“OK, you go first,” Toàn shouted back, emptying his M-16 at the NVAs and tossing grenades down
the main stairway. He darted back to the edge of the roof.
The utilities staircase shook violently as the two rushed down. As they passed each floor, they heard
heavy running steps and hysterical screams from the NVAs.
Jimmy was looking up at them with an anxious face. As they came down, they darted through the
tunnel opening and rolled down amid heavy steps outside the utilities room. They hunkered down
and ran as fast as they could through the tunnel. Their helmets banged into the ceiling but they kept
running. Jimmy crawled backward, watching for the enemy before following his comrades. His effort
was unnecessary. The NVAs were busy running for cover and didn’t care about an unused utilities
room.
Page 113
As soon as they emerged from the manhole, they ran back to the alleys behind the stores and the
houses. The screaming and firing from the building faded but they kept running. They were no
longer afraid of being seen by the enemy, but they wanted to be out of their firing range as soon as
possible.
After several blocks, Toàn slowed his pace. Right after he threw the grenades, he had felt pain in his
hand, but didn’t pay attention. The pain now became unbearable. He looked down and saw blood
flowing out of his hand. He dropped his heavy M-16 and staggered.
Brad turned his head and saw Toàn squatting down on the ground.
“Are you OK?” he shouted.
Toàn didn’t reply. He flapped his hand with agony.
Brad squatted down next to him. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t know.”
Jimmy shouted from behind. “We are OK here.”
Toàn raised his hand. The blood had stopped flowing, but a piece of shrapnel stuck out in the middle
of his hand. It must have been from one of his own grenades when he threw it at the enemy.
He turned his hand over. In his horror, he saw the shrapnel piece piercing through the back of his
hand right at the center of the tattooed orchid.
A chill ran down his spine.
“Lan,” he cried out.
Index
Course Outline: Deceptively innocent...................................................................................................2
Assessment Criteria:Different ways learn..............................................................................................7
Grading Scale: Foreshadowing............................................................................................................12
Second Lesson: Care............................................................................................................................26
Lesson Three: Training trainers...........................................................................................................31
Lesson Four: Emotional management.................................................................................................40
Lesson Five: Pokemon Trainer.............................................................................................................47
A review of Lesson Five:Thunder and Fire...........................................................................................53
Lesson Six: Help, and the need for it...................................................................................................62
Lesson Seven: Purposeful omissions...................................................................................................68
An episodic interlude...........................................................................................................................78
Lesson Eight: Bonding..........................................................................................................................89
Annex : Buried Cries............................................................................................................................98
Page 114

A Professor and A Student - Story of Summer-Autumn Chapter Interlude

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A Professor and A Student - Story of Summer-Autumn Chapter Interlude

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A Professor and a Student – Story of Summer-Autumn Chapter Interlude

Course Outline: Deceptively innocent

"Wh- really?" Ash asked. "You're not mad?"

Blue yet again, second from the right.

Lesson Six: Help, and the need for it

Lesson Seven: Purposeful omissions

"Team Rocket!" Ash snapped. "Give back Pikachu and Lucario!"

They were grinning at each other excitedly. "Did we just –"

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