For those of you who do not know me, let me introduce myself.  I am Ari Rockefeller, a writer at http://forums.fighters.net and http://tagmonkey.dx-games.com/forums.  I’ve written numerous works for both websites, but I haven’t written for here yet.  This is my first attempt at writing for fanfiction.net.  It's going to be a fighting tournament - as in actual fighting - and here's the list of characters I will most likely use in this story...

Ash                  Brock               Misty                Gary                 Ritchie

Tracey              Duplica             A.J.                  Drake               Lt. Surge

Sabrina             Koga                Blaine               Jessie               James

Butch               Cassidy             Bruno               Lance               Faulkner

Morty               Chuck               Aya                  Will                  Janine

These people will (probably) appear, they just won't fight...

Agatha             Lorelei              Pryce               Whitney            Bugsy

Doesn't seem to make sense, does it?  Don't worry.  In some grand sense, it will.  As usual, none of the games, characters, or otherwise belong to me.  Now, let’s get started...

TIME:  Towards the end of Jhoto

LOCATION:  Currently at Oak Laboratories, Pallet Town

It's another beautiful day in Kanto.  A great day to be alive!  All over, from the smallest towns to the biggest cities, the region is bustling with activity.

***YAWN***

Okay, so it was a boring day.  Especially the sleepy little burg of Pallet Town.  Nothing really out of the ordinary was going on.

At the world-famous Oak Laboratories, it was just another day on the plantation.  Professor Samuel Oak was going about his usual daily activities.  Outside, in the wide-open fields, the Pokémon ran free range.  Most of which were caught by the five trainers whom started their journey in Pallet years ago, but a few were special cases (i.e. special research projects).

Five young children left Pallet on that day so many years ago, four boys and a girl.  Two of the boys and the girl didn't get farther than the first round in the Indigo League and left the Pokémon scene soon after.  His grandson, Gary Oak, he noticed had grown much more jaded and cynical.  He trains hard every day, and while being the greatest is the reason Gary gives, the professor knows full well what the real reason is.  He wants to make Ash Ketchum admit that Gary is, and always was, a better Pokémon trainer than he ever could be.

But both of their egos would see to it that such an event would never take place.

Ash Ketchum.  The young man who overslept the day he received his Pokémon license and got last dibs on a starting Pokémon.  Ash Ketchum, the young man who, honestly, looked the least promising of the five trainers.  Ash Ketchum, the young man who defeated the Jhoto League Elite, as well as the champion, Lance, and achieved his dream of becoming a Pokémon master.

            The duties for the morning now completed, Professor Oak went back inside the house.  He went into the kitchen, and saw mostly everything the same as he left it when he rose for the day.  The mail was plopped onto the table, but that was about it.  Seeing that, he looked around for his grandson.  Gary had most likely slept in this morning, probably got up to use the bathroom and went back to bed.  The Professor thumbed through the mail…bills, junk mail, noting of particular interest.  But something caught his eye.

            “Hmmm…what’s this?” he asked himself.  It was an official letter from the World Pokémon League.  He opened the envelope, and pulled out its contents.  It was official information regarding a new kind of tournament to take place within…three years?  “Why would they send out pamphlets on it now?”  As he sat down to a bagel with cream cheese and some cranberry juice, he looked through the information.  It was a tournament sanctioned by the League, but it was radically different from anything he had seen before.  After thumbing through it, going over a few parts several times, he smiled inwardly, and went to the phone.

            “This is something right up Ash’s alley,” he said to himself, dialing the Ketchum residence.

TIME:  Simultaneously

LOCATION:  Ketchum house, Pallet

            Don’t tell me it’s morning already…

            Ash groaned in bed as the mid-morning sun shone through his window onto his bed.  He instinctively rolled over to the side, and found no one there.  Slowly sitting up, he realized he was alone in his room.

            For the most part, the few weeks after he won the Jhoto League were the most hectic of his life.  He achieved his dream of being a Pokémon master in doing so, and was the newest star in the Pokémon world.  Between public appearances, endorsements, and the like, Ash was pulling in mad money for himself.  Well, not just for himself.  He was happy to give a portion of his newfound income to his mother.  Now, Delia Ketchum no longer had to work two jobs just to keep things together for herself and her son.  She could finally relax.

            Which is more than what can be said about Ash.  The past week and a half, he had been in New York City, appearing on a few morning programs, as well as The Late Show and Late Night with Conan O’Brien.  While traveling is something Ash loves, as well as the excitement of his first visit to The Big Apple, he is very easily affected by jet lag.  When he got home, he slept quite a while, the exhaustion of all those years of travel seeming to hit him all at once.  It’s good to be the king, but heavy is the head that wears the crown.

            He looked around his room as he sat up.  Many of the relics (pictures, old awards, etc.) from his earlier years were still around, but there some notable changes as well.  Gone were his bunk beds from when he was a little kid.  Now, in its place was a full-sized bed, as well as a futon on the other side of the room directly across from it.  A few posters of supermodels and wall scrolls from such animes as Rurouni Kenshin, Ninja Scroll, Trigun, and Dragon Ball Z adorned his walls.  His TV and DVD setup was on one wall, with several games of his newly purchased PlayStation2 and GameCube not even opened yet.

            And speaking of his bed...Misty’s warmth still lingered on the space next to where he slept.  Which most likely meant she had only recently gotten up herself.  The blankets which were on the futon were thrown aside, meaning Brock had also gotten up – probably earlier, knowing him – and gone off to do his thing.  Sitting up straight, he rolled his neck out with two resounding cracks.  He stretched his back, and then got up out of bed.  He found an old, yellow t-shirt on the ground, still in the same spot from last night (he started sleeping without any shirt on recently).  He walked out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen, clad in said shirt and an old pair of blue mesh shorts.

            He saw someone in the kitchen as he walked off the landing of the steps.  It couldn’t have been his mother; the one job she did keep was her older one at the newspaper.  She took up a second job as a hostess at a local restaurant called Façade when her husband left her and Ash was about five.  Which means she’d be at work right now.

            As he walked in, the assumption he secretly had was correct.  There was Misty, her hair down, draped over her shoulders, and wearing a long red nightshirt.  She was moving back and forth from the stove to the refrigerator, preparing breakfast.  A glance out the kitchen window, and there was Brock, apparently meditating.  He was sitting on the picnic table, not moving the slightest.  Misty saw Ash appear in the kitchen and walked up to him.

            “Morning,” she said with a smile, draping her arms around him.

            “Good morning, Misty,” Ash said, just before they kissed.  As they did, Ash’s hands found her shapely hips, and in a flash, reached under her shirt and he squeezed her butt with both hands.  She was either wearing a thong or no underwear at all, because his hands didn’t find any fabric covering her.

            She struggled against him, pulling away frantically.  “Ash!  Stop it!” she shouted, laughing.  Ash pursued and started tickling her.

            “What’s the matter?” he said, smirking himself.

            “Your hands are ice cold!” She finally broke free, some distance between them.  She was breathing heavily.  With a satisfied sigh, Ash sat down, Pikachu in the chair next to him.  He hopped up on the table and walked over to him, and Ash started to scratch behind his ears.

            “You’re up earlier than I thought,” she said, turning on one of the burners.

            “Yeah, I know,” he said.  “Guess I just got tired of sleeping...I’m so worn out it’s not even funny.”  He got up and went to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of grapefruit juice.  There wasn’t too much left, so he drank what was left straight from the bottle.  “I can’t possibly imagine what kind of promo I’ll be asked to do next.”

            “Just tell them you aren’t feeling up to it, that’s all.”

            “Wish it were that easy.”  He lobbed the now empty bottle into the recycling bin.  “Guess now that I’m a Pokémon master, a lot of newbie trainers and such are gonna want to look up to me.”  He scoffed.  “I’m not a role model; you above all else should know that.”

            She giggled.  “Next thing you know, you’ll be doing commercials beside Alf.”  The heavy groan her boyfriend let out made her laughter louder.

            “That’ll be the day I believe that there is no God.”  Just then, the phone rang.  Ring-ring-ring, ring-ring-ring, phone call, phone call!  Ring-ring-ring, ring-ring-ring, phone call, phone call!  Ash and Misty exchanged glances before Ash slowly reached for the phone.  “I should change that ring tone sometime...” He picked up the phone and turned on the screen.  “Hello?”

            “Hello, Ash!” the Professor’s voice called.  His picture appeared on the picture phone.

            “Hey, Professor Oak,” he said, yawning.  Pikachu called to him from Ash’s lap.  “How’s it going?”

            “Pretty good.  Thanks for asking.  Listen, Ash?  Have you checked your mail yet today?”

            Ash fumbled through the pile of mail on the table.  Earlier, when he came down with Misty, Pikachu hopped up on the table and laid on the mail.  Ash had told Brock and Misty that Pikachu loved lying on paper – usually newspapers.  “Um, yeah, anything special to look for?”

            “Do you see anything from the Pokémon League, Ash?”

            “No.  Why, what’s up?”

            “There’s this new Pokémon tournament the League is starting.  You should come to my lab as soon as you get a chance.  I think you’ll really enjoy this!”

            “Cool.  Hey, we’ll be over in a little while, alright?  I just woke up a little while ago.”

            “Pika chu!”  {Lazy bastard, you!}

            Professor Oak chuckled.  “Alright, then.  Don’t worry; I’m not going anywhere.  Goodbye!”

            “See ya later, Professor.”  With that, Ash hung up the phone.  The back door opened, and Brock strode in, a towel draped over his shoulders.

            “Who was that?” Brock asked.

            “The professor,” Ash answered.  “He got word of some new tournament sanctioned by the League.”

            “He sounded like he was being pretty vague about it,” Misty said.  “Didn’t he say that they just made this tournament?”

            “Something like that.”  Brock, Misty and Ash sat down to the pancakes that Misty prepared.  They decided that after they ate and got ready for the day, they would go to see Professor Oak and find out what he was talking about.

TIME:  About an hour later

LOCATION:  Oak Laboratories

            The three kids enjoyed their breakfast – Ash told Misty about this several times – and as they cleaned up the mess they made, they got ready for the day.  Of course they wouldn’t have taken as long if Misty hadn’t snuck into the shower with Ash and had a little fun with him...

            As they walked up to Professor Oak’s, Brock was a bit ahead of Ash and Misty, so he didn’t get to – and probably didn’t want to – see Ash and Misty with their arms around each other’s waist, with Ash occasionally sliding his hand down her side, until Misty would grab him harshly by two fingers, bending them in a way so that Ash would keep his hands to himself.

            “Would you two stop it already?” Brock shouted as they approached the front door of the Oaks.  He knocked loudly on the door, and waited a few moments until the door opened.

            “Oh, great...” Gary Oak said, disgusted at the site of these three losers.  Vintage Gary.  No matter what Ash did, no matter how many fans Ash had, Gary would still consider him a loser.  So dense, he is.  “What do you want?”

            “We came to see the professor,” Ash started.

            “Oh really?  Well, what makes you think he wants to see you?”

            “Gimme a break, Gary!  I don’t feel like – ”

            “Enough,” Brock interrupted sternly.  “He called us a little while ago, said he wanted us to drop by about some new tournament...”

            “New tournament?”  Gary looked puzzled and upset.  “Why would he want to tell you about it?  Why wasn’t I the first to know?”

            Misty was growing upset with this argument between the three boys.  With a huff, she strode past Gary, ignoring his objections.  “Buzz off,” she said with a wave of her hand.

            “Misty, wait!” Ash said, passing Gary without a second glance.  Brock sighed, and walked in as well.  Gary shut the door behind them.

            The professor was in his study, at his desk, looking over the same information he told Ash about over the phone.  He almost didn’t hear the four of them enter the room.  He stood up as he greeted them, Ash, Misty and Brock sitting down on the couch, with Gary and Professor Oak taking the couch directly across from them.  A coffee table separated the two.

            “So what’s this about?” Ash asked, excited.

            “Well Ash,” Oak started, “I just received this information in the mail today.”  He slid the papers over the coffee table to him.  Brock and Misty looked over his shoulder at them when Ash leaned forward and read them.  “The World Pokémon League is sanctioning a martial arts tournament to be held three years from now.  From what I understand it, it’s open to all challengers.”

            “A martial arts tournament?” Ash exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.  “Sweet!  What’s it called?”

            “They’re calling it ‘Lord of the Fight’ tournament.”

            Gary, Brock, even Misty were giving Ash strange looks as he went over the papers too fast to let anything sink in.  “Man, this is gonna be awesome!”  He was smiling brightly now.

            “What are you so exited about?” Gary said.  He motioned to Ash.  “Let me see those things!”  Ash passed the papers to Gary, who gave them a glance over.  Again, he didn’t get why Ash was getting so excited.  “So...?”

            “I’m entering this tournament, no doubt about it!”  He clenched his fist tightly, but settled down when he noticed the looks the other kids gave him.  “What?”

            “You don’t know how to fight!” Gary snapped.  “And you think you do, I’ll be glad to disprove your little theory.”

            Ash was up and about by now, pacing around the room.  He moved a small table with a lamp on it out of his way, afraid that what he was about to do would break it.  “It’s been a few years, I know,” he started, almost shyly.  “But...” On that note, he broke into a small kata {martial arts form} which he had not performed in years, but had performed perfectly.

            “When did you learn how to do that, Ash?” Misty asked.

            “I didn’t know you took karate,” Brock added.

            Professor Oak chuckled as Ash leaned on the back of the sofa Brock and Misty were sitting on.  “Ash has been studying Sho...something or other...”

            “Shorinji Kempo,” Ash clarified.  “And I’ve been taking it up since I was 4, years before my Pokémon journey.  Haven’t earned my black belt yet, though.”

            “What rank are you?” Misty asked, turning around to face him.

            “I’m a red belt, last I was there.”  He rubbed his chin, his eyebrows furrowing.  “That reminds me.  I’d like to test for my black belt before the tournament, but I haven’t really practiced too hard for quite a while.  I feel a bit out of touch.”

            “Back to master Genju, huh Ash?” the professor said.

            “Bet he’ll be surprised to see me again!”  He struck a gallant pose, looking off as though he were looking into the future.  “Look out, world!  I’m going to show the entire world what I’m really made of!  I am Ash Ketchum, and I will not rest until I am crowned the Lord of the Fight!”

            As Ash’s star-struck rant went on, Brock contemplated the details.  He was also getting a dose of vintage Ash Ketchum.  Whenever there was word of a new tournament relating to Pokémon, Ash was always the first one in line to sign up for it.  And he was always there for him, through thick and through thin, good times and bad.

            Brock had his mind made up as well.  Only, his mind is set on entering the tournament as well.

NAME:  Ash Ketchum

STYLE:  Shorinji Kempo

DOB:  19 March 1988

HEIGHT:  4’9”

WEIGHT:  117 lbs.

HOBBY:  Pokémon Training

FAVORITE FOOD:  Mother’s home cooking

MOST IMPORTANT:  His Pokémon, especially Pikachu

LIKES:  Pokémon, friends

DISLIKES:  Other people suffering; Gary