If he really did go down that dark route, Ash mused, his so-called "main character halo" would probably explode on the spot.
The Legendary Ho-Oh—who adored the original Ash so much—would likely incinerate him with Sacred Fire the moment they met on the road to Viridian City.
So yes, rebelling wasn't an option. If Delia still disapproved of him becoming a Pokémon Trainer, it would be a disaster—not just for his plans, but for his entire future.
Thankfully, fate had intervened.
The near-drowning accident had shaken her to the core. With Aunt Miho's gentle persuasion, Delia's attitude had begun to shift.
She no longer stood in the way of her son's dream.
But even as she took his hand, her voice trembled with guilt. "Ash… Mommy may not oppose you anymore, but last year, when the League sent the notice to pay the Starter Registration Tax… I didn't pay it."
She bit her lip, her eyes welling up again. "Even if I go to make up the payment now, it's too late. The League's three starters—Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle—are already fully reserved. When you turn ten… you might not be able to get your favorite Bulbasaur."
Her words cracked at the end. The disappointment wasn't for herself—it was for him.
Because for every child dreaming of becoming a Trainer, that first Pokémon wasn't just a partner—it was a symbol. A new beginning.
And the official starter Pokémon, the League's Starters, were something every kid longed for.
Specially bred by the League's caretakers, each one handpicked for potential, loyalty, and balanced strength.
Every year, only a limited number were available—and the competition was brutal.
Parents rushed to pay taxes the moment their children turned five, racing to secure the earliest possible reservation.
The faster you paid, the higher you ranked in the system, and the more likely your child was to receive one of the coveted starters.
Those who hesitated? Too late. Even if they paid later, they'd end up with leftover Pokémon—Weedle, Poliwag, or Geodude.
And once again, Ash realized—this world didn't hand out dreams easily. The battle for greatness started long before a Trainer ever threw their first Poké Ball.
Families with money and power gave their children perfect Pokémon, private tutors, and access to elite camps.
Ordinary families could only hope their kids had enough determination to make up the difference.
Delia's tears fell again. "I'm sorry, Ash… It's my fault. I should've paid sooner…"
Ash smiled gently, patting her shoulder. "Mom, it's okay. Really. Even if my starter isn't one of the League's three, I'll still become the strongest Trainer out there."
He chuckled softly. "Besides, who needs Bulbasaur when I already know which Pokémon's meant for me?"
Pikachu.
There was no question in his mind. That was his real partner, the one who would stand by him through every storm.
And as for the three starters? He'd find them on his own journey—just like before.
Delia blinked at him through her tears. "Really? You mean that?"
Ash grinned confidently. "Of course! Don't you believe in me, Mom?"
Her lips curved into a trembling smile. "How could I not? My son is the smartest, bravest boy in the world. You'll surpass your father—and even your grandfather one day!"
That warmth, that pride—it washed away the tension in the room.
Then she paused, as if something had just struck her. "You said you wanted to have a Pokémon early, right?" she murmured thoughtfully. "What if I ask someone to catch one for you? A gentle Pokémon, something safe for a beginner."
She nodded to herself, already plotting. "We'll register it under my name so it's legal, but you'll take care of it. That way, you can learn early. How does that sound?"
Ash blinked, completely stunned. "Uh—Mom? Wouldn't that break the League's rules?"
He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The same woman who'd once banned him from going near a Pidgey's nest was now volunteering to bend federal Pokémon law just to help him train.
So this was what people meant by "motherly love knows no bounds."
Delia waved a hand dismissively. "Please. The League's rules are full of loopholes. Big families do this all the time. Why can't we? Is some bureaucratic rule more important than my son's safety?"
She sighed softly. "If I hadn't thrown away that Mime Jr. egg your father sent me all those years ago, you'd already have a perfect partner by now."
Ash chuckled, nodding. "A Psychic and Fairy-type Mime Jr.? That's way better than a starter, honestly."
He wasn't lying. In the early stages of a Trainer's journey, Psychic-types were practically broken—and Fairy-types could even take down Dragons in the late game.
A Pokémon like that? Unbeatable.
Delia sighed again, her voice laced with regret. "I know… I was foolish. That egg could've changed everything."
Ash smiled gently. "It's fine, Mom. Don't worry about it. I'll handle my starter situation myself."
Delia looked at him for a long moment—her little boy speaking like an adult—and smiled faintly. "You've really grown up, Ash. You're even comforting me now."
Her expression softened with pride. "I'm so proud of you."
Then, with a sudden spark of thought, she leaned forward. "So tell me—should I still go to the League office to pay the Starter Tax? Just in case?"
Ash blinked, half-amused, half-overwhelmed by her determination.
Even if he didn't need her to, even if his future was already written, her willingness to fight for him filled him with a quiet warmth.
The kind that only a mother could give.
…
…