Orientation week passed in a blur.
The Pallet Research Station had never felt more alive. Every corner buzzed with activity—students weaving between lecture halls and practice fields, arms full of training manuals, field kits, and hastily scrawled notes. There were charts on wild migration patterns pinned to every noticeboard, safety drill rosters posted in the dorm halls, and emergency contact numbers recited so often they looped in everyone's dreams.
Professor Oak led the sessions with his signature mix of charm and wisdom, wandering through his lectures like a storyteller more than a scientist. He'd punctuate lessons with anecdotes of close shaves in Viridian thickets, or his first glimpse of a wild Scyther when he was no older than Ash.
Professor Elm, in contrast, was a whirlwind of nerves and coffee-fueled logistics. His coat was perpetually wrinkled, and he fumbled through his flashcards more than once, but beneath the chaos was a brilliant regional mind. He spoke fast, like his brain ran ahead of his mouth. He understood environmental interconnectivity on a level that fascinated even Chloe. Despite his clumsiness, or maybe because of it, the students liked him.
Every day blurred into the next—maps spread over desks, simulated capture exercises in forested enclosures, late-night quizzes on wild Pokémon behaviors, bonding exercises with classmates under the stars. Students fell into routines: breakfast at six, drills by eight, simulation evaluations in the afternoon. Bonding exercises under the stars—Ash had shared his firewood with Yellow one night when her lantern had gone out…
They were taught a wide array of subjects to prepare them for life and learning in Johto: the intricacies of the Johtonian language, with its old regional dialects and formal structures; the rich and often turbulent history of Johto, from the ancient Bell Tower legends to the modern unification of its cities; a comprehensive overview of the local Gym system, including the unique battle philosophies and customs of each Johto Gym Leader; and detailed lessons on the Elite Four—both their current members and the historical champions who shaped Johto's legacy through their strength and ideals.
At the end, friendships deepened, rivalries sharpened, and somewhere between the group obstacle courses and the marsh navigation exercise, a truth had settled in: this wasn't a school trip. It was the start of something far greater. They were being shaped into explorers, researchers. They were part of something old. Something enduring.
And now, it was time.
——
Ash adjusted the strap of his travel vest as he stepped onto the private League platform, cap pulled low over his brow. The early morning air shimmered with cold sunlight and thin fog. Around him, voices rose in a tide—goodbyes, instructions, laughter, and the whir of Pokégear cameras snapping last-minute photos.
Yellow stood beside him, sketchbook clutched tight to her chest. Her travel bag looked oversized compared to her slender frame, but her eyes were focused—calm, if a little dazed from the early hour.
Chloe was pacing, adjusting her glasses for the third time in under a minute. Her expression had that furrowed intensity she wore when she was solving a complex equation, though Ash suspected it was mostly nerves. Gary, on the other hand, stretched his arms above his head, rolling his neck with the confident swagger of someone heading into a match, not onto a shuttle.
Green looked like she'd stepped out of a Poké Ball fashion catalog—her layered scarf danced with the breeze, her earrings caught the light, and her Pokégear hung stylishly at her side. But Ash noticed her fingers tapping restlessly, flicking through regional data on the screen with silent urgency.
Goh was predictably withdrawn, notebook in one hand, travel bag tightly secured across his shoulders, and his journal already open in the other. His eyes were distant, fixed on something only he could see. Ash didn't need Aura to sense it—Goh's mind was somewhere else entirely.
Suddenly, Professor Oak clapped his hands with a broad smile. "Alright, team! Final checks—Pokédex models, ID tags, tickets?"
A unified, if scattered, "Yes, Professor!" rang out from the assembled students.
"Excellent!" Oak beamed. "Say your goodbyes now, your plane leaves in fifteen."
The platform erupted into motion. Parents pulled their children into tight embraces, teachers snapped final group photos, League staff distributed travel snacks and reminded everyone to hydrate. The air was filled with a mixture of excitement and nervous tension, like a storm about to break—not destructive, but transformative.
The regional shuttle waited on the tarmac—sleek, compact, designed for long-range but low-profile transport. It gleamed faintly in the rising light, its wings casting shadows over the League insignia painted onto the runway.
Ash boarded near the front, nodding to the uniformed attendant and scanning his badge at the hatch. He took the window seat instinctively. From there, he watched as the others filed in.
Yellow settled beside him, sketchbook open before the cabin lights had even dimmed. She didn't speak, didn't need to. Her pencil moved across the page in steady arcs. Every now and then, her eyes flicked to the window—trying to capture something fleeting in cloud shape or mountain silhouette.
Green and Gary slid into the row behind them, already engaged in a quiet but competitive debate over travel routes and predicted Gym locations. Gary made a pointed comment about terrain modifiers; Green countered with regional climate patterns. It had the intensity of a battle—one fought with data rather than Pokémon.
Across the aisle, Chloe settled in next to Goh. She pulled out a textbook the moment the cabin lights dimmed. Goh didn't even notice—his journal was already open, pages densely packed with data and fragmented thoughts.
Ash leaned back, watching Pallet Town shrink below. The forests disappeared, the sea shimmered, the trees blurred. The hills gave way to distant fields, then clouds. And then… they were gone—crossing invisible lines into the unknown.
Heading toward Johto. Toward legends. Toward the heartbeat of history.
Ash exhaled slowly, a smile tugging at his lips.
——
Hours passed. The sky darkened into indigo.
The cabin lights dimmed as the flight stretched into early morning hours. Outside the window, the sky had deepened into an endless ocean of navy. Stars shimmered above them, scattered like old myths told in flickers of light. Below, clouds drifted in slow, silver-tinted tides.
Ash sat quietly, legs swaying slightly with the occasional turbulence. His cap rested on his lap now, and his eyes were half-lidded, tracking the slow arc of the moon outside.
Yellow had long since dozed off beside him, sketchbook closed gently over her lap. Her head had drifted toward his shoulder sometime during the second hour of darkness. Ash didn't move. With his Aura sight, Ash could still see the shimmer of her presence—gentle and steady, like the flicker of a forest flame.
The Viridian forest's blessing within her was growing stronger—tentatively, like a sapling reaching toward the sun. The old power was waking in her, it was subtle, unformed. But it was there.
And she would need it, someday.
He let his gaze drift to the others.
Green had slumped back in her seat, one earbud loose, the other still playing something faintly classical. Her Pokégear glowed softly on her lap, a half-written document blinking on-screen. Even in sleep, she looked determined.
Gary had cocooned himself in his jacket, mouth slightly open in the kind of sleep that usually ended in someone snoring or drooling—or both. Ash resisted the urge to take a photo.
Chloe had tried to stay awake—her reading light was still on—but sometime in the last hour, her head had drooped onto her folded arms. A textbook was still open in her lap, pages slightly crinkled from her breath.
Beep! Beep!
Ash glanced at his watch.
1:20 am.
The steady rhythm of the plane filled the silence, interrupted only by the occasional snore, the whisper of turning pages, the faint thrum of distant engines.
A tiny snore beside him made him glance down.
He turned slightly to look at her—hair tousled, cheeks faintly flushed, sketchbook hugged to her chest. She looked peaceful.
He smiled.
It was strange though. In another life, in another timeline, he hadn't really understood Yellow until much later. She'd been a side character in a story already overflowing with gym badges and rivalries and Rocket plots.
But here… he saw how she developed.
She had started as a quiet, almost invisible shadow. Nervous. Kind. Overlooked. But once they became friends, she'd bloomed. She spoke more. Smiled more. Dared to draw things she once only dreamed. Her strength wasn't in force—it was in patience, in empathy, in quiet defiance.
A quiet chime broke the stillness.
"Hello, this is your captain speaking…"
Ash blinked back into the present as the announcement rolled through the cabin.
"We'll be landing in New Bark Town in approximately twenty-five minutes. Local time is 1:45 AM. Temperature outside is a cool sixteen degrees Celsius. Please make sure your seat belts are secured and trays stowed."
Ash exhaled. He reached for his seatbelt and gently nudged Yellow.
She stirred, blinking owlishly. "Mm…?"
"We're almost there."
She yawned, stretching like a small Cubchoo waking from hibernation. "Already?"
"Yeah."
Ash glanced out the window again. Below them, the eastern edge of Johto began to appear through the clouds—dark forests sprawling toward the coast, the silver ribbon of the Tohjo River glinting faintly in moonlight.
Twenty-seven minutes later, the plane finally landed.
The shuttle touched down with a soft thrum and a hiss of pressurized air. Outside, the landing strip was lit in soft blue and amber. Silhouettes of tall pines swayed gently in the wind, their shapes familiar and yet alien. This was Johto—so close to Kanto, yet steeped in a magic all its own.
Ash felt the subtle hum of the land as soon as the wheels kissed ground. Yellow yawned beside him, and blinked at the window, eyes still foggy with sleep.
The others stirred as well, rising one by one like figures in a slow-motion dream. Chloe rubbed her eyes and quickly started organizing her scattered notes. Gary cracked his neck and muttered something about stiff seats. Green tapped her Pokégear awake, then stilled as her eyes flicked to the window.
"…Johto," she murmured. "About time."
Goh didn't say anything. He simply stared, unmoving, at the dark outline of the trees.
The plane doors hissed open, and a breath of cold, pine-scented air drifted in.
New Bark Town.
Fog clung to the hills like spider silk, the rising sun only just beginning to pierce the gray. The runway was small—private League access only—ringed by fences and a few unmarked transport vehicles.
Ash stepped off the plane with his hood up and his bag slung across his shoulder. The air smelled different here—less salt, more pine. The land felt older. Wiser.
He inhaled deeply, letting it sink into his bones.
"So this is Johto..." Green mumbled, yawning.
Beside him, Yellow pulled her hat lower. "It feels quiet."
"Yeah," Ash said. "But not empty."
Chloe stumbled slightly as she descended. "It's colder than I expected."
Goh was silent. His eyes didn't leave the trees.
Then, a familiar voice cut through the haze.
"Welcome!" he called. "You made it!"
Professor Elm jogged toward them, coat flapping behind him like a startled Pidgeotto. He tripped over his own bootlace but caught himself mid-stumble, throwing both arms up as if to prove he was fine.
He tripped over a loose shoelace mid-stride but caught himself with a dramatic flourish, arms wide. "All part of the plan. I meant to do that."
Ash smirked. "Nice landing."
Yellow giggled.
"Glad you made it in one piece! I hope the flight wasn't too awful." he finally said.
Ash gave a tired smile "Nah, it was pretty good. Besides, someone next to me slept like a Snorlax, so I can't complain."
Yellow blushed. "I—! I didn't mean to—!"
Ash patted her head. "Relax, I'm just teasing you. I didn't mind at all."
The others tried to hold back their laughter.
"Alright," Elm continued. "Now, you'll all have tomorrow morning to rest and unpack. Your bunkhouse is this way. The first official orientation starts at noon sharp, so eat, nap, shower—whatever order you prefer. Just don't be late."
Ash was handed a key marked 3-B. Yellow received 3-A, her eyes lighting slightly when she realized they'd be neighbors. Gary, predictably, ended up next door in 3-C, and Green across the hall. Chloe and Goh shared a corridor one floor up.
Their bunkhouse sat uphill, surrounded by whispering pine, the lights were soft, yellow-tinted. The floors were polished wood, the faint scent of incense and pine was tucked into every beam. His room was small, plain, and perfect: A single bed, a desk, a Poké Ball charging station, and a small window overlooking the edge of the forest.
He dropped his bag with a thud, shrugged off his vest, and stood for a moment in the stillness. He opened the window. Cool air spilled in, carrying the scent of dew, cedar, and something faintly electric.
Then he unpacked methodically, placing his map and old notebook on the bedside table before pulling the curtain shut and collapsing onto the mattress.
He'd been asleep for about twenty minutes when the knock came.
Groggy, Ash sat up, rubbed his eyes, and crossed the room barefoot. Yellow stood there, blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cloak.
"Hi Ash, did I wake you up?" she asked.
"Yeah, but it's fine." His voice was rough with sleep. "Whassup?"
"I couldn't sleep," she said. "I thought maybe… you couldn't either."
Ash opened the door wider. "Come in."
She stepped inside without hesitation. The blanket trailed slightly behind her like a cape. She sat cross-legged on the edge of his bed, sketchbook tucked under her arm.
Ash sat beside her, watching as she adjusted the blanket again. She was still wearing her socks, and her hair was slightly messy from sleep.
"I'm just… a little nervous, I guess," she said after a while.
He didn't ask why. She didn't need to explain.
Outside, the forest rustled, soft and low. The wind brushing the trees like a lullaby only some could hear.
She shifted closer, leaning into his side.
Ash blinked, but he didn't pull away.
He reached out and gently adjusted the blanket around her shoulders.
"Thanks," she whispered.
"No problem."
They sat like that for a long time.
Just listening. Just breathing.
And Johto watched them from the shadows of the trees, whispering its old welcome.