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Ash woke to the sound of his mother singing softly along to Christmas music drifting up the stairs.
He smiled to himself, stretching his arms over his head and yawning deeply. The movement disturbed the small, warm weight at the foot of the bed.
“Sorry, buddy,” Ash murmured.
“Pika pi,” Pikachu replied sleepily.
The little Pokémon hopped down from the bed and padded out into the hallway, tail swaying gently as he headed downstairs. Ash sat up, rubbed at his eyes, and followed.
“Morning, Mom,” Ash greeted as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Morning, sweetie,” Delia replied cheerfully.
Ash paused in the doorway to the living room. Delia was carefully balancing on a chair while Mr. Mime stood beside her, holding a large cardboard box filled with decorations.
“What’re you doing?” Ash asked.
“Decorating for Christmas, silly,” Delia said. “It’s tomorrow, and you haven’t put anything up.”
Ash shifted his weight, suddenly uncomfortable. “There’s no point if I’m on my own.”
Delia froze just slightly before turning to him. “Ash…”
“It’s not like it’s the first time,” he added quickly, trying to sound casual. “I’ll be fine.”
Near the hallway, Pikachu’s ears lowered.
“Pika…” he muttered softly.
“Is nobody free?” Delia asked gently.
“Brock? Misty? Clemont and Bonnie? Serena?”
Ash shook his head. “Brock’s looking after his siblings. Misty’s on tour with her sisters. Clemont and Bonnie are still rebuilding Lumiose City. Serena’s in Hoenn.”
“Well,” Delia said after a pause, “you could always come with us.”
“No thanks, Mom. I’ll stay here.”
She studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Okay… if you’re sure.”
Delia turned back to decorating and hung a wreath of mistletoe over the living room doorway.
“Mom!” Ash protested. “Why is the mistletoe going up?”
“Because it’s Christmas,” she replied simply. “Now start breakfast, please.”
Ash sighed and headed for the kitchen.
“Hey, Pikachu. You hungry, buddy?”
“Pika!” Pikachu huffed sharply.
Ash blinked. “Hey- what’s wrong?”
Pikachu turned away and darted upstairs without another sound.
Ash stared after him, a faint unease settling in his chest.
That night, after watching his mother and Mr. Mime leave for their holiday,
Ash climbed into bed. Pikachu jumped down immediately, choosing the chair across the room instead of his usual spot.
“Pikachu…?” Ash tried quietly.
No response.
Ash lay back, staring at the ceiling as the words he’d said earlier echoed in his mind.
It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been on my own at Christmas.
Sleep came slowly, uneasily.
*Ash woke with a sharp gasp.
His body jolted upright, heart racing, palms slick with sweat.
“Pikachu?” he whispered instinctively, reaching toward the foot of the bed.
Nothing.
The sheets were cold.
“No,” Ash muttered, throwing the covers aside and stumbling out of bed. “No, no, no-”
He ran downstairs, bare feet slapping against the floor, panic tightening his chest with every step.
“Nurse Joy!” he shouted as he burst into the Pokémon Center. “Have you seen Pikachu? He was with me- he’s always with me.”
She looked at him with practiced concern. “Ash… you didn’t come in with a Pikachu.”
The words didn’t make sense.
“What do you mean?” Ash asked, backing away. “He’s my partner. My first Pokémon.”
Nurse Joy shook her head gently.
“You’ve never had a Pikachu, dear.”
The floor seemed to tilt.
Ash turned and ran.
He found Clemont first.
“Clemont,” Ash said desperately, grabbing his sleeve. “Where’s Pikachu?”
Clemont frowned, adjusting his glasses.
“Ash… you chose Squirtle. You’ve always had Squirtle.”
“That’s not true!” Ash snapped.
“Pikachu was with me from the beginning. He shocked me the first day. We didn’t get along. We learned together.”
Clemont’s expression softened with pity.
“I think you’re misremembering.”
Ash’s stomach dropped.
He ran again.
Bonnie looked up at him, confused.
Serena reached out, worried.
“You’re okay,” Serena said softly. “You just need to rest.”
“No,” Ash said hoarsely. “You don’t understand. He was there when I lost. When I won. When I didn’t know who I was.”
Serena shook her head. “Ash… there was never a Pikachu.”
The world felt wrong.
Ash stumbled into Professor Oak’s lab, breath coming in short, uneven gasps.
He rushed to the familiar shelf where he knew the Poké Balls were kept.
They were all there.
Every single one.
Except one space.
An empty indentation in the wood.
Ash reached for it with trembling fingers.
“Who was here?” he asked desperately, turning to Professor Oak. “There was someone here.”
Oak looked at the shelf, then back at Ash. “Ash, there’s nothing missing.”
Ash’s chest constricted painfully.
He could see it. He could feel it.
How could no one else?
He backed away, shaking his head.
“That’s impossible. I remember him. Sleeping on my hat. Riding on my shoulder. Standing in front of me every time I thought I couldn’t go on.”
No one answered.
Ash sank to his knees.
The world continued around him, people talking, laughing, planning journeys, as if nothing had been lost at all.
That’s when it hit him.
They weren’t grieving because they hadn’t lost anything.
He had.
And without Pikachu, Ash wasn’t a Trainer who’d lost a Pokémon.
He was a boy who’d lost the proof that he’d ever mattered.
“I’m not alone,” Ash whispered desperately. “I was never alone.”
But the world didn’t hear him.
And neither did Pikachu.*
Ash jolted awake with a cry.
He was in his bed. His room. His house.
He turned his head sharply.
Pikachu was curled up on the chair, tail wrapped protectively around himself, fast asleep.
Ash burst into tears.
He crossed the room in two strides, scooping Pikachu up carefully despite his shaking hands.
“I’m sorry,” Ash whispered as he carried him downstairs. “I was wrong. I was stupid. I forgot what being alone really means.”
He stopped in the living room doorway, holding Pikachu close.
“You’ve been with me since the very beginning,” Ash said quietly. “When I didn’t know what I was doing. When I messed up. When I was scared. I love you, buddy. I’m never alone as long as you’re by my side.”
Pikachu stirred, climbed onto Ash’s shoulder, and gently licked his cheek. A kiss
“Pika pi… Pikachu,” he murmured.
Ash laughed through his tears and hugged him tighter.
And for the first time that Christmas, he felt whole.