NebulaDreams
Ace Trainer
- Partners
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@Flyg0n told me to 'add a chapter where Jung meets Ash. profit', so I did it, the absolute madman.
For context, I have a fic series called Dreamdiver which involves a Hypno named Jung who works as a therapist for Pokemon with mental health issues. You can read it here, if you wish:
A Pain in the Ash
Jung blinked at the computer screen, which showed a human in his list of appointments, of all things. It wasn’t beyond Jung’s capabilities to treat humans as he had to apply a lot of human methods of psychoanalysis to his patients, but this was bizarre. Even more bizarre, this human in question was…
No, that couldn’t be him. That was physically impossible, unless someone happened to bear the same name – parents sometimes named their children ‘Ash’ out of reverence for that show. Jung punched his boss’ number into the clinic’s landline, just to make sure.
“Hello, Jung Hypno speaking,” he said in human tongue, “am I seeing this correctly, Amelie? Some human named Ash Ketchum?”
“Yes, you saw that correctly,” she said with a certain weariness.
“Well, that can’t be right, he’s from that cartoon, isn’t he?”
“He claims to be Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town, though he doesn’t know how he ended up in Kalos.” Amelie hummed. “I don’t know how he ended up on our system either, so just roll with it for now.”
Jung reached for the bag of cookies on his desk. “But surely he would go to see a human psychiatrist – there are a lot more mental health facilities available for his kind. Why is he here?”
“I wouldn’t ask questions you aren’t prepared to handle the answers to. Just do as much as you feel capable.”
Right. Jung was being ridiculous. Human or Pokemon, he couldn’t turn them away. He’d heard of stranger things in the dreams he examined. Compared to that, this case was just like another Friday for him.
“Alright. Thanks for clarifying, Amelie. I’ll do whatever I can to help them.”
Amelie hummed in affirmation and Jung hung up. Before it was time, Jung munched on a cookie or two – he needed to get his blood sugar up although it was already sky high from his general diet. He brushed the crumbs off his longcoat and padded to the waiting room.
Jung blinked at the duo before him. It seemed to be Ash, or a good Ash cosplayer. He had that same red cap, same outfit, same squiggly face marks, same hairstyle, even the same companion Pokemon perched on his shoulder. In turn, Ash blinked at him. The Pikachu stared at Jung, cautious but not aggressive.
“Ash Ketchum, would you like to come on in?” Jung said in his well-rehearsed voice, putting on a smile.
“You can talk?” Ash said as he rose. He even sounded like him. A few others in the waiting room stared at Ash, some of them even pointing at him. A Machoke, who Jung recognised as Chase, came up and shoved a phone in his face.
“Hey, nice costume, dude, I’m a huge fan of that show. Can we get a selfie?”
“What’s a self– hey, that’s a cool-looking Pokedex you got there!” Ash snatched it out of the Machoke’s hands and fiddled with the buttons. “How’d you turn it on?”
“Nah, look here, it’s a phone, don’t be a caveman.”
“Pi,” Pikachu growled, glaring at the intruding Pokemon.
“Watch it, ya rat, I’m tryin’ to get a pic here!”
The room flashed with yellow, white light for a split second. Chase yelped and threw his phone across the room. This didn’t go unnoticed as the other waiting patients stood up in alarm.
“What the hell?!” Chase crawled to retrieve his phone. He tried to turn it on only to be faced with a blank screen. “You broke my phone, ya rat! That cost my traine– I mean my partner an arm and a leg! Literally!”
Jung stood in the middle of it all, trying to process the scene. Was Ash really a celebrity, or was he… no, he had a job to do.
“Excuse me,” Jung interrupted, softly but firmly. “I have other patients that need to see me later. I don’t want to rush you all, but we need to get back on track.”
“But he broke my phone!” the Machoke yelled, rubbing away his tears.
“Chase, I’m sure your partner will get you a new one. Now, I believe you have an appointment with Elise soon.”
“Right…” Chase defeatedly sat back on his chair, pretending to type on his broken phone.
“Should we say we’re sorry?” Ash asked.
“If you wish, but I don’t think he should’ve invaded your personal space. Now, come on.”
Ash and Pikachu followed behind Jung – their steps were slow, somewhat guarded.
“Pi, pi, pikachu,” Pikachu whispered. Jung tried to hide his surprise. Why on earth was he talking like that?
“It’s okay, buddy,” Ash whispered back, “this Hypno seems nice – it’s not like last time.”
Jung pretended not to hear them. He had to remind himself it was nothing personal, as usual. He led them to his office, sitting them down on the chaise-longue. Jung relaxed in his chair and took another good look at Ash.
This felt like something out of a dream, and not in the ‘my dream finally came true’ way, but the ‘woah, this is trippy, I ate too much cheese last night’ way. Jung tried to have faith that this was the genuine article, but the possibility of this ‘Ash’ being someone with an identity crisis was at the back of his mind.
“So, just to clarify, you are Ash Ketchum, is that correct?”
“Yeah, Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town!” He thumbed his chest. “I gotta catch ‘em all!”
“Good for you, I suppose.” Jung glanced at the Pikachu who still didn’t leave his shoulder. “And what’s your name, fellow Pikachu?”
“Pikachu,” Pikachu said.
"Yes, I know you're a Pikachu. What else?"
"Pi..." He narrowed his eyes. "Pi pi, pikachu. Chuuuuu, ka. Pi."
“Huh.” Jung looked back to Ash – he understood nothing that came out of the yellow rodent's mouth. “Doesn’t he have a name?”
“Pikachu’s his name, what’s wrong with that?”
“Ah, nothing.” Well, it was like calling a dog Pokemon Dog, but he didn’t want to come across as judgemental. “It’s nice, anyway.”
“Pi.” Pikachu lowered his ears. Off to a good start already.
“So, what would you like to talk about today, you two?” Jung offered one of his many cookie boxes on the table. “Feel free to try, they won’t bite.”
Ash immediately grabbed one, though Pikachu wasn’t as receptive, sniffing at it like a piece of old cheese left for too long in the pantry. He didn’t know if Pikachu could eat chocolate anyway.
“Well, I guess I’m really confused, first of all. I mean, you can talk, and that Machoke as well, and more Pokemon – on the way here, a Murkrow swore at me for throwing a Pokeball at him.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t try to capture Pokemon that don’t want to be captured.”
“But it’s kinda why I’m on this journey. If I’m not catching Pokemon, who am I?”
Okay, it was too early into the session to get existential, so Jung changed the subject. “Anyway, not all of us can talk, only those that learn it. It’s like that Meowth, isn’t it?”
“Wait, you know Team Rocket?” Ash gripped his lap. “They’re bad news, nothing but trouble for me and Pikachu, ain’t that right?”
“Pipipi,” Pikachu muttered, sticking his tongue out.
This day was getting weirder by the minute.
“So, Team Rocket, correct?”
“Yeah. Last time it happened, they dressed like magicians and told Pikachu to get in this box for their trick. Next thing I knew, they were gone, my buddy went missing, and then we had to chase after their hot air balloon to get him back!”
Jung rubbed his head. It started to hurt. “They had their own hot air balloon?”
“They’ve got a lot up their sleeves, those crooks.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
“Scared, I guess. I mean, it’s nothing we can’t handle since they’re dumber than a bag of Slowpoke, but it wears on you after a while.” Ash squirmed. “Sometimes I keep looking over my shoulder to see if they’re up to something. Or sometimes I wake up and see their really funky hair swaying above me when it's really just a Jigglypuff and a Haunter dancing together.”
“And these are grown adults stalking you?”
“Yeah?”
“Shouldn’t we be calling the police?”
“They’ve tried catching them before, believe me, but they’re slippery fellas. They’re always in disguise.”
“Then these officers are incompetent. I don’t know what world you’re from, but that would earn those degenerates a restraining order at the very least.”
“I dunno what that is, but yeah, anything to get ‘em off our backs.”
“Pikachu!” Pikachu Pikachu’d.
Jung chomped on another cookie. Whatever world Ash was in, it didn’t inspire much hope. If criminals were free to harass children and the police did nothing, then what state was the rest of his world in?
“And what else would you like to get off your chest?”
Ash leaned back on the chaise-longue, clutching Pikachu close to him. “Well, all my friends turned on me.”
“Brock and Misty, correct? Go on.”
“It was all going so great. I got far in the league, they all had my backs, then I lost against that Tyranitar and they all decided ‘nope, you suck, we all hate you now’.” He sighed. “They wouldn’t talk to me at all. Then Brock told his Onix to eat me, we barely escaped with our lives, then Misty’s Togepi took all my money.”
“A Togepi mugged you, did you say?”
“Yeah, that egg really did a number on me. He chased me with a knife – even my buddy couldn’t stop him.”
“Pi.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
Ash balled his hands into fists. “I know how I feel about it. I swore that my buddy and I would never lose a league match again.”
Jung only just realised he forgot to take notes. What a beginner’s mistake. But how could he take notes when this whole situation put him in such a daze? He hurriedly scribbled whatever he could remember, making a mess of his perfectly blank pages.
“This is like the time my dad left for cigarettes and never came back from the store.”
“Well, I’m terribly sorry to hear that, Ash.” He was genuinely concerned at this point. How much had this ten year old gone through already? “But you also have Pikachu, and I’m sure you have other friends who are there to support you too. This can manifest into abandonment issues if you let it consume you.”
“Ah, no, I’m fine, and I know Pikachu would never betray me, right?”
“Pi.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, buddy.” Ash cuddled Pikachu and sighed. “And then there was that one time I died.”
Jung took off his glasses and blinked, putting his clipboard aside.
“You… died?”
“Yeah.” Ash sat up and held his head in his hands. Pikachu looked up at him, eyes moistened. “You know about Mewtwo, right? Those awful guys did those experiments and made him. Then he wanted to free all those Pokemon, then we got in a huge fight, I tried to stop it, I got caught in the blast, and–
Ash grabbed the nearby box of tissues and loudly blew his nose into it, blubbering all the while. Pikachu started crying too, and they both shared the same tissues. Jung didn’t even know how to react to this. His jaw was on the floor.
“I turned to stone. I still remember how it felt. How my body just–” he gasped–”stopped. I felt so cold. Like someone turned off all the lights and there wasn’t a switch.”
Jung left them to process their emotions, as he needed to process his as well.
“I got better thanks to my buddy, though.” Ash’s face brightened as he looked at Pikachu. “He started crying, then all the Pokemon started crying, and those tears brought me back. I dunno how – I guess Pokemon tears just heal you up.”
Jung tried to reach for the clipboard and stopped halfway through.
“Sorry, I’ve been focusing on Ash this whole time. How does that make you feel, Pikachu?”
Pikachu stared at him with the same reluctance as before. A moment passed and he got off of Ash’s lap, pacing back and forth across the room.
“Pi,” he started. “Pika pika, pikachu. Pi pi pi, chuuuuuu. Pi. Pika. Ka. Chu pika pika pi pi chu pika pika pika chuuuuuu. Pi pi, pikachu. Chuuuuu, ka. Pi.”
Jung turned to stone. Figuratively, not literally, like in Ash’s case.
Wait, what? What?!
The weight of the situation hit him all at once. Getting held at knifepoint by an egg. Getting turned to stone by feuding legendaries, legendaries that didn’t exist in Jung’s world. Coming back to life with the power of Pokemon tears. Ash’s story was always ridiculous, but it was Pikachu’s speech that finally broke him. He needed a drink.
“Excuse me for a minute.”
Jung didn’t check if they were okay – he just left them in his office and stormed off to the nearest water cooler. He only realised how dry his mouth was once he took a swig.
This couldn’t be real. Of course, when working in therapy, one needed to open themselves up to all sorts of possibilities and strange, tragic situations. But there was no physical way of being brought from petrification, if such a thing was possible in the first place, and tears didn’t have healing properties.
No, there had to be a logical explanation for it. Jung didn’t want to toss out diagnoses all willy nilly, but that hunch from earlier came back to him. He needed to rationalise it somehow.
Jung had no doubt that this Ash was genuine. Or at least, he genuinely thought he was Ash. In theory, this person might as well’ve been called ‘John Doe’. In that case, this John Doe could’ve been suffering from some sort of dissociative identity disorder. Maybe it could’ve happened as a result of waking up from a coma. Maybe turning to stone was actually a near death experience John Doe repressed his memories of.
Then what about Pikachu? Pikachu didn’t talk like that – they either squeaked, growled, or spoke human if they were taught to. There was no reason for Jung to go ‘Hypno, hyp hyp’ in casual conversation. Was it a front of some sort?
Jung took a deep breath and straightened his collar. He needed to get back to work, so he came back to his office, only to find Ash pointing at a plushie on the floor. That was Jung’s Munchlax he’d won from a crane game a while ago.
“Pikachu, use Thunderbolt!”
Pikachu’s fur stuck up on end, and with a swish of his tail, he charged up a spark of electricity.
“Chuuuuuu!”
A flash of light blinded Jung for a second. The next thing he knew, the Munchlax toy had an electric burn mark on its forehead. He thought about telling the two off before Pikachu laughed and ran to Ash’s side.
“Nice work, buddy!” he cheered, cradling Pikachu in his arms.
Now he didn’t have the heart to scold them. Those two made a good team. But that uneasy feeling still nestled in Jung’s gut. It wouldn’t be digested unless Jung got to the root of this problem.
“Well done, you two.” Jung said, putting on a smile. “It’s good to see you getting some practise in with that doll.”
“Ah, yeah.” He rubbed his head. “Sorry, I shoulda asked. Pikachu was just really raring to train.”
“Pi!”
“No problem. I have lots of other dolls.”
“Hmm.” Ash looked around Jung’s office, glancing at the dolls on his shelves and his bed. “I never pegged you as the type to play with ‘em.”
“I don’t play with them, exactly, but they’re comforting to have around.” He hugged the singed Munchlax. “And the other patients like them as well.”
“Figures.” Ash finally sat back down, and Jung did as well, grabbing his clipboard with gusto. He noted down ‘believes himself to be Ash’ and ‘is possibly repressing trauma’.
“Now we can discuss possible treatments for whatever’s ailing you.” Jung hummed. “You seem to have a lot on your plate, and I don’t envy your position. Dealing with a traumatic, life-threatening incident like that would make you feel anxious for a long time afterwards.”
“Yeah, that’s what’s bugging me.” Ash slumped against the chaise-longue, suddenly deflated. “And I keep having these nightmares too. Some nights, I can’t get to sleep, and I can’t train my buddy if I’m falling asleep everywhere I go. I keep dreaming that I’m a statue, that my buddy’s a statue, that my old friends are statues, and this Mewtwo keeps hammering away at us.”
“Right.” Finally, the opportunity presented itself for Jung to learn who Ash really was. “Dreams just happen to be my bread and butter. If you’d like me to examine them, I’d be more than happy to help.”
Ash tensed up. Pikachu raised his hackles.
“You’re not gonna put me to sleep, are you?”
Jung took a deep breath. Again, nothing personal. “No. Unless you want me to. I would never do that to someone against their will.” Unless it was in self-defence. “I noticed you were a little hesitant earlier.”
“Kinda, yeah.” Ash stared at his feet. “Sorry. I just remember that one time a Hypno hypnotised Misty.” He grimaced. “They told her to kick me in the family jewels.”
If Jung had a glass of water, he would’ve spat it out by now. “Erm, well, I’m terribly sorry someone from our species did that to one of your friends. I assure you, a lot of us don’t behave like that.”
“I guess I haven’t met a lot of other Hypno before.”
“Well, you have now. In any case, it’s fine if you don’t trust me right away, and it’s not essential for your treatment.”
Ash huddled next to Pikachu, whispering in his ear. Both of them seemed to have a conversation – how that was possible through the language barrier was beyond Jung. Eventually, they faced him.
“Alright, we’ll do it. Or I’ll do it. I dunno.” He smiled at Pikachu. “How awesome would it be if you and me shared the same dreams?”
“Pikachu!” he chirped.
“I wish I could do that, but sadly, only one person can enter another’s dream. Think of it like one car going down a one way street.”
“Aw.” Ash shrugged. “Well, I’ll tell you about it later, buddy. So, are you gonna raise your pendulum thingy?”
“In a minute, Ash.” Jung grabbed his chair to get closer to Ash, who lay down in his seat. “I don’t want to force you into it, it works best when you relax. Take a few deep breaths, concentrate each time you inhale and exhale, and listen to my voice…”
–
Jung awoke in a museum full of Ash. Not ash, Ash. One room had a stone statue with Ash holding out a Pokeball. Another had a marble statue where Ash was dressed like some sort of emperor, wearing a toga. And another had a bronze statue of him posing with a Lucario, except this time, both of them came to life. Their footsteps clashed against the marble flooring.
“Something something friendship something something bond.” Ash said. “Something something something aura.”
“Aura?” the Lucario asked. “I hardly even know her!”
A laugh track played through the PA system.
Jung had enough of this exhibit and went to the exit, only to find himself in a bedroom. The room was featureless, save for a few items: a bed, which Ash snored in, an N64 which had Pokemon Stadium in the slot, a couple of Pikachu plushies, and a clock. Suddenly, the clock rang like a fire engine’s horn, though Ash didn’t wake up.
“Do you wanna be late?!” his mother, Delia, shouted outside the room, though she wasn’t visible past the door. “Don’t blame me if you get there and that quack gives you a Weedle.”
He still didn’t stir from his slumber.
“Lugia’s waiting outside!”
“Where?” Ash rose, walking out of the room in his jammies. Jung followed him as if he was his roommate – not even Delia batted an eye at the Hypno’s presence. Perhaps she didn’t know he existed.
Indeed, there was a Lugia outside, about the same size as Ash’s house. They craned their neck down to Ash, nuzzling their head against his.
“Play that song for me,” they said without moving their lips. “That will restore my strength.”
“Umm, okay.” Ash pulled out a boombox from thin air and held it above his head, blasting out a ballad about the singer being in the lover’s eyes.
“Hmm, yes, I feel it. The song gives me… energy. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Luigi.”
“Lugia, you mean. No matter, I best be off. Those plastic-filled seas won’t unpollute themselves.”
One flap of Lugia’s wings levelled Ash’s house, crumbling it into a pile of ash. Lugia didn’t stop to clean up the mess as they swooped off, doing a barrel roll as they disappeared into this sky. A twinkle signified their departure.
“Mr. Mime!” Delia yelled. “Clean this up, please!”
“Mime!” Mr. Mime mimed, sweeping up the ashes into an invisible dustpan. What was he, Delia’s maid? Servant? Pet? Jung couldn’t tell. But he couldn’t stand by and do nothing. So Jung gathered up some ashes in his hands and plopped them into the bin — the only remaining thing of the house’s wreckage.
“Thanks,” Mr. Mime said. “That helps out a ton.”
“I’ll do whatever I can, dear sir.” Jung eyed Mr. Mime’s work. “So, what do you get out of cleaning?”
“I dunno, don’t ask me,” Ash said, sitting on the mound of rubble. “I never asked where this Mime came from or what he’s doing in my house.”
“But he lives with you. And…” Jung stopped as Delia dropped some Pokepellets into a dog bowl, which Mr. Mime ate from. “Actually, I’m not sure I want to know either, that’s absolutely horrifying.”
Mr. Mime was now a Meowth, who popped a pellet in his mouth with a Cheshire-like grin.
“Meowttth, dat’s left! Rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub!”
“Are you gonna scram now, you freeloader?” Delia growled, aiming a mop at him. “I know you’ve been making him miserable with that no-good gang of yours.”
“Eh, gotta make a livin’ somehow, old broad.”
“O-old?!”
He got a smack in the face for that one. Meowth’s head became as flat as a steamrolled marshmallow.
“Do that agai– wait, what da hell is that?”
Meowth pointed to the sky. Instead of the sun, the head of a man with purple hair took its place.
“When I said we were blasting off again, I didn’t think we’d be going to the sun. And now I’m the sun. Not that I’m complaining, I feel absolutely fabulous up here. Radiant, even. Ohoho!”
He squinted at Ash, then shouted a war cry, which shook all the trees surrounding them. The sun– no, James’ head was getting bigger, bigger, and even bigger until Jung could see every pore on his face.
“Go away!” Ash yelled, gritting his teeth. “Get a job, you bum! What’s that Pikachu mean to you, anyway?”
“Oh, it was never about the Pikachu. It’s about the principle of the Pikachu.”
“What does that even mea–”
James crushed whatever was left of the house, and everyone in the yard as well.
–
Jung was stumped. He was no closer to figuring out if this Ash was the genuine article than he was when he first met him. Nothing in the dream seemed to hint at wider trauma. And whatever was there basically confirmed what Jung already knew.
“Did you find anything there, doc?”
“Ah yes, most certainly.” He most certainly didn’t, but honestly, he didn’t have the mental capacity to care. “In my personal opinion, you are suffering from a form of post-traumatic stress disorder – nightmares and insomnia are a common symptom of this.”
“Post-thematic what now?”
“It’s a type of mental disorder where you feel anxious after a certain event has happened, like we’ve discussed.”
“That’s…” Ash fiddled with the cushioning of the chaise-longue. “I’m not some sorta psycho, am I?”
“That’s a very outdated view on mental health, Ash. Of course, given how young you are, I expect it will be difficult to grasp.”
“I’m 35 years old.”
“Oh.” Jung’s head throbbed. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. “In any case, nothing’s wrong with you, it’s a normal way to cope with these types of distressing situations, since it’s a defence mechanism. But if it’s interrupting your sleep to the point you can’t function as a trainer, then I would recommend further treatment.”
“Like what?” He crossed his arms. “I don’t want it to stop my journey.”
“It doesn’t have to, but rest and relaxation is also important if it gets too much. You don’t have to stay in a clinic, but the recommended course of action is to either take a prescription for antidepressants, and/or cognitive behavioural therapy from a professional – which can either be done locally or remotely.”
“You sound a lot like Professor Oak.”
“Ah, well, thank you, I suppose?”
“I mean he talks a lot about stuff I don’t get.”
Heat rose to Jung’s cheeks. He hid his face behind his clipboard.
“To put it simply, there is medicine you can take that can help you feel less worried. And someone can also chat to you while you’re travelling. They can give you advice on how to stop these nightmares and face whatever’s troubling you. Does that make more sense?”
“A little, yeah.” Ash twiddled his thumbs. “Sorry, all this stuff’s beyond me. I’ve never had to think about it before, all I wanna do is catch ‘em all.”
“Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear before.” Jung’s tone sounded a lot more severe than he would’ve liked. But oh well. “That is also natural, and mental health is a discussion that’s still quite new to people. That’s where I come in, to talk about it more and help those who might not understand it yet.”
“Right. So, what do I do now?”
“I’ll send a recommendation to a local mental health clinic in Anistar – a human should be more qualified to help you. Since we already have your details, all you need to do is wait until they call you. How does that sound?”
“Good, yeah. I think.” Ash stood up, and Pikachu climbed onto his shoulder again. “Can I go now?”
“There’s nothing keeping you. I think otherwise, you’re a well-adjusted young– no, just a well-adjusted lad with a bright future ahead of you.”
“Gee, thanks, doc! You’re a good Hypno yourself.” Before Ash left, he waved Jung goodbye. Pikachu also waved with a punctuated ‘pi!’. Jung smiled back at them
When the door closed, Jung’s smile faded. He pinched himself to see if he was dreamin–
–
Jung’s eyes blinked open. He touched his cheek – wet from the drool puddle on his desk. The white light from his computer screen blinded him. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw what was playing on the screen: an episode of the Pokemon anime from the Indigo League seasons, which he streamed on Natuflix.
Jung groaned and fell back to sleep.
For context, I have a fic series called Dreamdiver which involves a Hypno named Jung who works as a therapist for Pokemon with mental health issues. You can read it here, if you wish:
- The Inalienable Dreamless
- The Dreamer is Still Asleep
- Teamwork Makes the Dream Work
- The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters
A Pain in the Ash
Jung blinked at the computer screen, which showed a human in his list of appointments, of all things. It wasn’t beyond Jung’s capabilities to treat humans as he had to apply a lot of human methods of psychoanalysis to his patients, but this was bizarre. Even more bizarre, this human in question was…
No, that couldn’t be him. That was physically impossible, unless someone happened to bear the same name – parents sometimes named their children ‘Ash’ out of reverence for that show. Jung punched his boss’ number into the clinic’s landline, just to make sure.
“Hello, Jung Hypno speaking,” he said in human tongue, “am I seeing this correctly, Amelie? Some human named Ash Ketchum?”
“Yes, you saw that correctly,” she said with a certain weariness.
“Well, that can’t be right, he’s from that cartoon, isn’t he?”
“He claims to be Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town, though he doesn’t know how he ended up in Kalos.” Amelie hummed. “I don’t know how he ended up on our system either, so just roll with it for now.”
Jung reached for the bag of cookies on his desk. “But surely he would go to see a human psychiatrist – there are a lot more mental health facilities available for his kind. Why is he here?”
“I wouldn’t ask questions you aren’t prepared to handle the answers to. Just do as much as you feel capable.”
Right. Jung was being ridiculous. Human or Pokemon, he couldn’t turn them away. He’d heard of stranger things in the dreams he examined. Compared to that, this case was just like another Friday for him.
“Alright. Thanks for clarifying, Amelie. I’ll do whatever I can to help them.”
Amelie hummed in affirmation and Jung hung up. Before it was time, Jung munched on a cookie or two – he needed to get his blood sugar up although it was already sky high from his general diet. He brushed the crumbs off his longcoat and padded to the waiting room.
Jung blinked at the duo before him. It seemed to be Ash, or a good Ash cosplayer. He had that same red cap, same outfit, same squiggly face marks, same hairstyle, even the same companion Pokemon perched on his shoulder. In turn, Ash blinked at him. The Pikachu stared at Jung, cautious but not aggressive.
“Ash Ketchum, would you like to come on in?” Jung said in his well-rehearsed voice, putting on a smile.
“You can talk?” Ash said as he rose. He even sounded like him. A few others in the waiting room stared at Ash, some of them even pointing at him. A Machoke, who Jung recognised as Chase, came up and shoved a phone in his face.
“Hey, nice costume, dude, I’m a huge fan of that show. Can we get a selfie?”
“What’s a self– hey, that’s a cool-looking Pokedex you got there!” Ash snatched it out of the Machoke’s hands and fiddled with the buttons. “How’d you turn it on?”
“Nah, look here, it’s a phone, don’t be a caveman.”
“Pi,” Pikachu growled, glaring at the intruding Pokemon.
“Watch it, ya rat, I’m tryin’ to get a pic here!”
The room flashed with yellow, white light for a split second. Chase yelped and threw his phone across the room. This didn’t go unnoticed as the other waiting patients stood up in alarm.
“What the hell?!” Chase crawled to retrieve his phone. He tried to turn it on only to be faced with a blank screen. “You broke my phone, ya rat! That cost my traine– I mean my partner an arm and a leg! Literally!”
Jung stood in the middle of it all, trying to process the scene. Was Ash really a celebrity, or was he… no, he had a job to do.
“Excuse me,” Jung interrupted, softly but firmly. “I have other patients that need to see me later. I don’t want to rush you all, but we need to get back on track.”
“But he broke my phone!” the Machoke yelled, rubbing away his tears.
“Chase, I’m sure your partner will get you a new one. Now, I believe you have an appointment with Elise soon.”
“Right…” Chase defeatedly sat back on his chair, pretending to type on his broken phone.
“Should we say we’re sorry?” Ash asked.
“If you wish, but I don’t think he should’ve invaded your personal space. Now, come on.”
Ash and Pikachu followed behind Jung – their steps were slow, somewhat guarded.
“Pi, pi, pikachu,” Pikachu whispered. Jung tried to hide his surprise. Why on earth was he talking like that?
“It’s okay, buddy,” Ash whispered back, “this Hypno seems nice – it’s not like last time.”
Jung pretended not to hear them. He had to remind himself it was nothing personal, as usual. He led them to his office, sitting them down on the chaise-longue. Jung relaxed in his chair and took another good look at Ash.
This felt like something out of a dream, and not in the ‘my dream finally came true’ way, but the ‘woah, this is trippy, I ate too much cheese last night’ way. Jung tried to have faith that this was the genuine article, but the possibility of this ‘Ash’ being someone with an identity crisis was at the back of his mind.
“So, just to clarify, you are Ash Ketchum, is that correct?”
“Yeah, Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town!” He thumbed his chest. “I gotta catch ‘em all!”
“Good for you, I suppose.” Jung glanced at the Pikachu who still didn’t leave his shoulder. “And what’s your name, fellow Pikachu?”
“Pikachu,” Pikachu said.
"Yes, I know you're a Pikachu. What else?"
"Pi..." He narrowed his eyes. "Pi pi, pikachu. Chuuuuu, ka. Pi."
“Huh.” Jung looked back to Ash – he understood nothing that came out of the yellow rodent's mouth. “Doesn’t he have a name?”
“Pikachu’s his name, what’s wrong with that?”
“Ah, nothing.” Well, it was like calling a dog Pokemon Dog, but he didn’t want to come across as judgemental. “It’s nice, anyway.”
“Pi.” Pikachu lowered his ears. Off to a good start already.
“So, what would you like to talk about today, you two?” Jung offered one of his many cookie boxes on the table. “Feel free to try, they won’t bite.”
Ash immediately grabbed one, though Pikachu wasn’t as receptive, sniffing at it like a piece of old cheese left for too long in the pantry. He didn’t know if Pikachu could eat chocolate anyway.
“Well, I guess I’m really confused, first of all. I mean, you can talk, and that Machoke as well, and more Pokemon – on the way here, a Murkrow swore at me for throwing a Pokeball at him.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t try to capture Pokemon that don’t want to be captured.”
“But it’s kinda why I’m on this journey. If I’m not catching Pokemon, who am I?”
Okay, it was too early into the session to get existential, so Jung changed the subject. “Anyway, not all of us can talk, only those that learn it. It’s like that Meowth, isn’t it?”
“Wait, you know Team Rocket?” Ash gripped his lap. “They’re bad news, nothing but trouble for me and Pikachu, ain’t that right?”
“Pipipi,” Pikachu muttered, sticking his tongue out.
This day was getting weirder by the minute.
“So, Team Rocket, correct?”
“Yeah. Last time it happened, they dressed like magicians and told Pikachu to get in this box for their trick. Next thing I knew, they were gone, my buddy went missing, and then we had to chase after their hot air balloon to get him back!”
Jung rubbed his head. It started to hurt. “They had their own hot air balloon?”
“They’ve got a lot up their sleeves, those crooks.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
“Scared, I guess. I mean, it’s nothing we can’t handle since they’re dumber than a bag of Slowpoke, but it wears on you after a while.” Ash squirmed. “Sometimes I keep looking over my shoulder to see if they’re up to something. Or sometimes I wake up and see their really funky hair swaying above me when it's really just a Jigglypuff and a Haunter dancing together.”
“And these are grown adults stalking you?”
“Yeah?”
“Shouldn’t we be calling the police?”
“They’ve tried catching them before, believe me, but they’re slippery fellas. They’re always in disguise.”
“Then these officers are incompetent. I don’t know what world you’re from, but that would earn those degenerates a restraining order at the very least.”
“I dunno what that is, but yeah, anything to get ‘em off our backs.”
“Pikachu!” Pikachu Pikachu’d.
Jung chomped on another cookie. Whatever world Ash was in, it didn’t inspire much hope. If criminals were free to harass children and the police did nothing, then what state was the rest of his world in?
“And what else would you like to get off your chest?”
Ash leaned back on the chaise-longue, clutching Pikachu close to him. “Well, all my friends turned on me.”
“Brock and Misty, correct? Go on.”
“It was all going so great. I got far in the league, they all had my backs, then I lost against that Tyranitar and they all decided ‘nope, you suck, we all hate you now’.” He sighed. “They wouldn’t talk to me at all. Then Brock told his Onix to eat me, we barely escaped with our lives, then Misty’s Togepi took all my money.”
“A Togepi mugged you, did you say?”
“Yeah, that egg really did a number on me. He chased me with a knife – even my buddy couldn’t stop him.”
“Pi.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
Ash balled his hands into fists. “I know how I feel about it. I swore that my buddy and I would never lose a league match again.”
Jung only just realised he forgot to take notes. What a beginner’s mistake. But how could he take notes when this whole situation put him in such a daze? He hurriedly scribbled whatever he could remember, making a mess of his perfectly blank pages.
“This is like the time my dad left for cigarettes and never came back from the store.”
“Well, I’m terribly sorry to hear that, Ash.” He was genuinely concerned at this point. How much had this ten year old gone through already? “But you also have Pikachu, and I’m sure you have other friends who are there to support you too. This can manifest into abandonment issues if you let it consume you.”
“Ah, no, I’m fine, and I know Pikachu would never betray me, right?”
“Pi.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, buddy.” Ash cuddled Pikachu and sighed. “And then there was that one time I died.”
Jung took off his glasses and blinked, putting his clipboard aside.
“You… died?”
“Yeah.” Ash sat up and held his head in his hands. Pikachu looked up at him, eyes moistened. “You know about Mewtwo, right? Those awful guys did those experiments and made him. Then he wanted to free all those Pokemon, then we got in a huge fight, I tried to stop it, I got caught in the blast, and–
Ash grabbed the nearby box of tissues and loudly blew his nose into it, blubbering all the while. Pikachu started crying too, and they both shared the same tissues. Jung didn’t even know how to react to this. His jaw was on the floor.
“I turned to stone. I still remember how it felt. How my body just–” he gasped–”stopped. I felt so cold. Like someone turned off all the lights and there wasn’t a switch.”
Jung left them to process their emotions, as he needed to process his as well.
“I got better thanks to my buddy, though.” Ash’s face brightened as he looked at Pikachu. “He started crying, then all the Pokemon started crying, and those tears brought me back. I dunno how – I guess Pokemon tears just heal you up.”
Jung tried to reach for the clipboard and stopped halfway through.
“Sorry, I’ve been focusing on Ash this whole time. How does that make you feel, Pikachu?”
Pikachu stared at him with the same reluctance as before. A moment passed and he got off of Ash’s lap, pacing back and forth across the room.
“Pi,” he started. “Pika pika, pikachu. Pi pi pi, chuuuuuu. Pi. Pika. Ka. Chu pika pika pi pi chu pika pika pika chuuuuuu. Pi pi, pikachu. Chuuuuu, ka. Pi.”
Jung turned to stone. Figuratively, not literally, like in Ash’s case.
Wait, what? What?!
The weight of the situation hit him all at once. Getting held at knifepoint by an egg. Getting turned to stone by feuding legendaries, legendaries that didn’t exist in Jung’s world. Coming back to life with the power of Pokemon tears. Ash’s story was always ridiculous, but it was Pikachu’s speech that finally broke him. He needed a drink.
“Excuse me for a minute.”
Jung didn’t check if they were okay – he just left them in his office and stormed off to the nearest water cooler. He only realised how dry his mouth was once he took a swig.
This couldn’t be real. Of course, when working in therapy, one needed to open themselves up to all sorts of possibilities and strange, tragic situations. But there was no physical way of being brought from petrification, if such a thing was possible in the first place, and tears didn’t have healing properties.
No, there had to be a logical explanation for it. Jung didn’t want to toss out diagnoses all willy nilly, but that hunch from earlier came back to him. He needed to rationalise it somehow.
Jung had no doubt that this Ash was genuine. Or at least, he genuinely thought he was Ash. In theory, this person might as well’ve been called ‘John Doe’. In that case, this John Doe could’ve been suffering from some sort of dissociative identity disorder. Maybe it could’ve happened as a result of waking up from a coma. Maybe turning to stone was actually a near death experience John Doe repressed his memories of.
Then what about Pikachu? Pikachu didn’t talk like that – they either squeaked, growled, or spoke human if they were taught to. There was no reason for Jung to go ‘Hypno, hyp hyp’ in casual conversation. Was it a front of some sort?
Jung took a deep breath and straightened his collar. He needed to get back to work, so he came back to his office, only to find Ash pointing at a plushie on the floor. That was Jung’s Munchlax he’d won from a crane game a while ago.
“Pikachu, use Thunderbolt!”
Pikachu’s fur stuck up on end, and with a swish of his tail, he charged up a spark of electricity.
“Chuuuuuu!”
A flash of light blinded Jung for a second. The next thing he knew, the Munchlax toy had an electric burn mark on its forehead. He thought about telling the two off before Pikachu laughed and ran to Ash’s side.
“Nice work, buddy!” he cheered, cradling Pikachu in his arms.
Now he didn’t have the heart to scold them. Those two made a good team. But that uneasy feeling still nestled in Jung’s gut. It wouldn’t be digested unless Jung got to the root of this problem.
“Well done, you two.” Jung said, putting on a smile. “It’s good to see you getting some practise in with that doll.”
“Ah, yeah.” He rubbed his head. “Sorry, I shoulda asked. Pikachu was just really raring to train.”
“Pi!”
“No problem. I have lots of other dolls.”
“Hmm.” Ash looked around Jung’s office, glancing at the dolls on his shelves and his bed. “I never pegged you as the type to play with ‘em.”
“I don’t play with them, exactly, but they’re comforting to have around.” He hugged the singed Munchlax. “And the other patients like them as well.”
“Figures.” Ash finally sat back down, and Jung did as well, grabbing his clipboard with gusto. He noted down ‘believes himself to be Ash’ and ‘is possibly repressing trauma’.
“Now we can discuss possible treatments for whatever’s ailing you.” Jung hummed. “You seem to have a lot on your plate, and I don’t envy your position. Dealing with a traumatic, life-threatening incident like that would make you feel anxious for a long time afterwards.”
“Yeah, that’s what’s bugging me.” Ash slumped against the chaise-longue, suddenly deflated. “And I keep having these nightmares too. Some nights, I can’t get to sleep, and I can’t train my buddy if I’m falling asleep everywhere I go. I keep dreaming that I’m a statue, that my buddy’s a statue, that my old friends are statues, and this Mewtwo keeps hammering away at us.”
“Right.” Finally, the opportunity presented itself for Jung to learn who Ash really was. “Dreams just happen to be my bread and butter. If you’d like me to examine them, I’d be more than happy to help.”
Ash tensed up. Pikachu raised his hackles.
“You’re not gonna put me to sleep, are you?”
Jung took a deep breath. Again, nothing personal. “No. Unless you want me to. I would never do that to someone against their will.” Unless it was in self-defence. “I noticed you were a little hesitant earlier.”
“Kinda, yeah.” Ash stared at his feet. “Sorry. I just remember that one time a Hypno hypnotised Misty.” He grimaced. “They told her to kick me in the family jewels.”
If Jung had a glass of water, he would’ve spat it out by now. “Erm, well, I’m terribly sorry someone from our species did that to one of your friends. I assure you, a lot of us don’t behave like that.”
“I guess I haven’t met a lot of other Hypno before.”
“Well, you have now. In any case, it’s fine if you don’t trust me right away, and it’s not essential for your treatment.”
Ash huddled next to Pikachu, whispering in his ear. Both of them seemed to have a conversation – how that was possible through the language barrier was beyond Jung. Eventually, they faced him.
“Alright, we’ll do it. Or I’ll do it. I dunno.” He smiled at Pikachu. “How awesome would it be if you and me shared the same dreams?”
“Pikachu!” he chirped.
“I wish I could do that, but sadly, only one person can enter another’s dream. Think of it like one car going down a one way street.”
“Aw.” Ash shrugged. “Well, I’ll tell you about it later, buddy. So, are you gonna raise your pendulum thingy?”
“In a minute, Ash.” Jung grabbed his chair to get closer to Ash, who lay down in his seat. “I don’t want to force you into it, it works best when you relax. Take a few deep breaths, concentrate each time you inhale and exhale, and listen to my voice…”
–
Jung awoke in a museum full of Ash. Not ash, Ash. One room had a stone statue with Ash holding out a Pokeball. Another had a marble statue where Ash was dressed like some sort of emperor, wearing a toga. And another had a bronze statue of him posing with a Lucario, except this time, both of them came to life. Their footsteps clashed against the marble flooring.
“Something something friendship something something bond.” Ash said. “Something something something aura.”
“Aura?” the Lucario asked. “I hardly even know her!”
A laugh track played through the PA system.
Jung had enough of this exhibit and went to the exit, only to find himself in a bedroom. The room was featureless, save for a few items: a bed, which Ash snored in, an N64 which had Pokemon Stadium in the slot, a couple of Pikachu plushies, and a clock. Suddenly, the clock rang like a fire engine’s horn, though Ash didn’t wake up.
“Do you wanna be late?!” his mother, Delia, shouted outside the room, though she wasn’t visible past the door. “Don’t blame me if you get there and that quack gives you a Weedle.”
He still didn’t stir from his slumber.
“Lugia’s waiting outside!”
“Where?” Ash rose, walking out of the room in his jammies. Jung followed him as if he was his roommate – not even Delia batted an eye at the Hypno’s presence. Perhaps she didn’t know he existed.
Indeed, there was a Lugia outside, about the same size as Ash’s house. They craned their neck down to Ash, nuzzling their head against his.
“Play that song for me,” they said without moving their lips. “That will restore my strength.”
“Umm, okay.” Ash pulled out a boombox from thin air and held it above his head, blasting out a ballad about the singer being in the lover’s eyes.
“Hmm, yes, I feel it. The song gives me… energy. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Luigi.”
“Lugia, you mean. No matter, I best be off. Those plastic-filled seas won’t unpollute themselves.”
One flap of Lugia’s wings levelled Ash’s house, crumbling it into a pile of ash. Lugia didn’t stop to clean up the mess as they swooped off, doing a barrel roll as they disappeared into this sky. A twinkle signified their departure.
“Mr. Mime!” Delia yelled. “Clean this up, please!”
“Mime!” Mr. Mime mimed, sweeping up the ashes into an invisible dustpan. What was he, Delia’s maid? Servant? Pet? Jung couldn’t tell. But he couldn’t stand by and do nothing. So Jung gathered up some ashes in his hands and plopped them into the bin — the only remaining thing of the house’s wreckage.
“Thanks,” Mr. Mime said. “That helps out a ton.”
“I’ll do whatever I can, dear sir.” Jung eyed Mr. Mime’s work. “So, what do you get out of cleaning?”
“I dunno, don’t ask me,” Ash said, sitting on the mound of rubble. “I never asked where this Mime came from or what he’s doing in my house.”
“But he lives with you. And…” Jung stopped as Delia dropped some Pokepellets into a dog bowl, which Mr. Mime ate from. “Actually, I’m not sure I want to know either, that’s absolutely horrifying.”
Mr. Mime was now a Meowth, who popped a pellet in his mouth with a Cheshire-like grin.
“Meowttth, dat’s left! Rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub!”
“Are you gonna scram now, you freeloader?” Delia growled, aiming a mop at him. “I know you’ve been making him miserable with that no-good gang of yours.”
“Eh, gotta make a livin’ somehow, old broad.”
“O-old?!”
He got a smack in the face for that one. Meowth’s head became as flat as a steamrolled marshmallow.
“Do that agai– wait, what da hell is that?”
Meowth pointed to the sky. Instead of the sun, the head of a man with purple hair took its place.
“When I said we were blasting off again, I didn’t think we’d be going to the sun. And now I’m the sun. Not that I’m complaining, I feel absolutely fabulous up here. Radiant, even. Ohoho!”
He squinted at Ash, then shouted a war cry, which shook all the trees surrounding them. The sun– no, James’ head was getting bigger, bigger, and even bigger until Jung could see every pore on his face.
“Go away!” Ash yelled, gritting his teeth. “Get a job, you bum! What’s that Pikachu mean to you, anyway?”
“Oh, it was never about the Pikachu. It’s about the principle of the Pikachu.”
“What does that even mea–”
James crushed whatever was left of the house, and everyone in the yard as well.
–
Jung was stumped. He was no closer to figuring out if this Ash was the genuine article than he was when he first met him. Nothing in the dream seemed to hint at wider trauma. And whatever was there basically confirmed what Jung already knew.
“Did you find anything there, doc?”
“Ah yes, most certainly.” He most certainly didn’t, but honestly, he didn’t have the mental capacity to care. “In my personal opinion, you are suffering from a form of post-traumatic stress disorder – nightmares and insomnia are a common symptom of this.”
“Post-thematic what now?”
“It’s a type of mental disorder where you feel anxious after a certain event has happened, like we’ve discussed.”
“That’s…” Ash fiddled with the cushioning of the chaise-longue. “I’m not some sorta psycho, am I?”
“That’s a very outdated view on mental health, Ash. Of course, given how young you are, I expect it will be difficult to grasp.”
“I’m 35 years old.”
“Oh.” Jung’s head throbbed. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. “In any case, nothing’s wrong with you, it’s a normal way to cope with these types of distressing situations, since it’s a defence mechanism. But if it’s interrupting your sleep to the point you can’t function as a trainer, then I would recommend further treatment.”
“Like what?” He crossed his arms. “I don’t want it to stop my journey.”
“It doesn’t have to, but rest and relaxation is also important if it gets too much. You don’t have to stay in a clinic, but the recommended course of action is to either take a prescription for antidepressants, and/or cognitive behavioural therapy from a professional – which can either be done locally or remotely.”
“You sound a lot like Professor Oak.”
“Ah, well, thank you, I suppose?”
“I mean he talks a lot about stuff I don’t get.”
Heat rose to Jung’s cheeks. He hid his face behind his clipboard.
“To put it simply, there is medicine you can take that can help you feel less worried. And someone can also chat to you while you’re travelling. They can give you advice on how to stop these nightmares and face whatever’s troubling you. Does that make more sense?”
“A little, yeah.” Ash twiddled his thumbs. “Sorry, all this stuff’s beyond me. I’ve never had to think about it before, all I wanna do is catch ‘em all.”
“Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear before.” Jung’s tone sounded a lot more severe than he would’ve liked. But oh well. “That is also natural, and mental health is a discussion that’s still quite new to people. That’s where I come in, to talk about it more and help those who might not understand it yet.”
“Right. So, what do I do now?”
“I’ll send a recommendation to a local mental health clinic in Anistar – a human should be more qualified to help you. Since we already have your details, all you need to do is wait until they call you. How does that sound?”
“Good, yeah. I think.” Ash stood up, and Pikachu climbed onto his shoulder again. “Can I go now?”
“There’s nothing keeping you. I think otherwise, you’re a well-adjusted young– no, just a well-adjusted lad with a bright future ahead of you.”
“Gee, thanks, doc! You’re a good Hypno yourself.” Before Ash left, he waved Jung goodbye. Pikachu also waved with a punctuated ‘pi!’. Jung smiled back at them
When the door closed, Jung’s smile faded. He pinched himself to see if he was dreamin–
–
Jung’s eyes blinked open. He touched his cheek – wet from the drool puddle on his desk. The white light from his computer screen blinded him. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw what was playing on the screen: an episode of the Pokemon anime from the Indigo League seasons, which he streamed on Natuflix.
Jung groaned and fell back to sleep.
