" Ash, please eat." Misty begged. " Pikachu will be fine. Brock's in there tih him. It'll be fine."

Ash pushed the food away. " I... I couldn't save it. My best friend. I... I couldn't save."

He whirled to Misty. " He almost died in that fight because of me!"

" No, Ash. Ask Brock. I promise, Pika will be fine."

Ash looked unconvinced. He pushed the bowl away from him and walked to a secluded corner, where he sat down on his bum, wrapping his arms around his feet and burying his face.

Misty sighed as she watched the light. " Please turn off, please....."

On cue, it turned off. Brock and Nurse Joy came out. Brock spottersd Ash and went to him, while Nurse Joy walked to Misty.

" How is it?* Misty asked.

Joy gave a sigh. " Well, it's fine, but....."

" But what?"

Joy sighed, shifting uncomfortably. " It's in a coma."

Misty froze, then looked at Ash, who was on the brink of tears. He pushed past Brock and ran out the door.

Brock walked to the ladies. " He's not taking it well."

" Of course not, Brock! Haven't you seen him and Pikachu?"

Brock nodded. " Course I have!"

Ash's footsteps echoed as he sprinted down the hospital hallway, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't process what he'd just heard—Pikachu was in a coma. His best friend, the Pokémon who had stood by his side through everything, was lying unconscious, unable to wake up because of him.

He burst through the doors, the cool night air hitting his face as he ran outside. His mind raced, guilt and fear overwhelming him. He didn’t know where he was going; he just wanted to be away from the hospital, away from the reality of Pikachu’s condition.

Misty watched Ash disappear into the night, her heart breaking for him. She turned to Brock, her eyes filled with worry. “What are we going to do? He’s blaming himself. He’s going to spiral if we don’t help him.”

Brock sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know. But right now, all we can do is give him some space. He needs to process this, but we can’t let him go too far.”

Misty nodded, even though every fiber of her being wanted to chase after Ash and drag him back. But she knew Brock was right. Ash needed time. She just hoped he wouldn’t do something reckless.

“Stay with Pikachu,” Brock said, his voice calm but firm. “I’ll go after Ash. He won’t want to talk, but he needs someone with him.”

Misty bit her lip, reluctant but understanding. “Okay. But hurry, Brock. He needs you.”

With a nod, Brock left the hospital and headed in the direction Ash had run. The night was quiet, but he knew Ash wouldn’t have gone far. Ash never truly ran away from his problems—he just needed time to be alone before he could face them.

After a few minutes of searching, Brock spotted him. Ash was sitting under a tree at the edge of a small park, his head buried in his knees, his hat pulled down low over his face. He wasn’t moving, but Brock could tell from the slight shaking of his shoulders that he was crying.

Brock approached slowly, making sure not to startle him. “Ash,” he said gently, kneeling down beside him. “You can’t stay out here all night.”

Ash didn’t respond. He kept his face buried, trying to hold back the sobs that were threatening to break free. Brock sat next to him, giving him a moment before speaking again.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Brock said softly. “Pikachu’s strong. He’s been through worse, and he always comes back.”

Ash sniffed but still didn’t lift his head. “I should’ve protected him,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. “I let him down, Brock. I’m supposed to be his trainer, and I let him get hurt.”

Brock sighed. He knew how much Pikachu meant to Ash, how their bond was more than just trainer and Pokémon—it was a deep friendship, a partnership built on trust. “You didn’t let him down,” Brock said. “You’ve always done everything you can for Pikachu. You saved him in that battle. You’ve saved him more times than I can count.”

Ash finally lifted his head slightly, but his eyes were still shadowed by his hat. “But what if he doesn’t wake up this time? What if… what if this is it?”

Brock placed a hand on Ash’s shoulder. “Pikachu will wake up. He’s tough, just like you. He’s fighting, and he needs you to keep fighting too.”

Ash shook his head, wiping at his eyes. “I don’t know if I can, Brock. I don’t know if I can keep going without him.”

Brock’s heart ached for Ash. He knew how much Ash depended on Pikachu, not just as a partner but as a constant source of strength. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Ash,” Brock said quietly. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to feel lost. But Pikachu needs you to believe in him, just like he’s always believed in you.”

Ash’s shoulders slumped, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to break down completely. But then, he took a deep breath, his grip on his hat tightening. “I… I just want him to be okay.”

“He will be,” Brock said with quiet certainty. “And we’ll be there for him when he wakes up. But right now, he needs you to take care of yourself. He wouldn’t want you to give up.”

Ash finally looked up at Brock, his eyes red and filled with tears. “You really think he’ll wake up?”

Brock gave him a small, reassuring smile. “I know he will. You two are a team, Ash. Nothing can break that.”

Ash swallowed hard, his emotions still raw, but Brock’s words gave him a flicker of hope. He nodded, wiping his face with his arm. “Okay,” he whispered. “I’ll… I’ll keep fighting. For Pikachu.”

Brock stood up and offered Ash a hand. “Come on. Let’s get back to the hospital. Misty’s waiting, and Pikachu needs you by his side.”

Ash hesitated for a moment but then reached out and took Brock’s hand, letting his friend pull him to his feet. Together, they started walking back toward the hospital, the weight of the situation still heavy, but with a small sense of hope beginning to grow in Ash’s heart.

The next morning, Ash wasnt ar breakfast.

He didn't come down to help Nurse Joy with the patients.

He didn't even come down for lunch.

Misty sighed as she glanced at the room which held Pikachu. " Should we?* She whispered.

Brock nodded. " We have to."

They hesitantly pulled the door open, and there sat Ash, holding Pikachu's wire connected arm. " I just want you to know, Pikachu, no one can ever replace you. Me, you, misty, Brock. The four of us. Nothing can change that, Pikachu. And no one can take your place."

Then he put his head on pikas blanket and cried

Misty's heart broke as she watched Ash hunched over Pikachu's bed, his voice thick with emotion. Brock stood beside her, his face tight with concern. Neither of them had seen Ash like this—so lost, so defeated.

Ash’s hand gently rested on Pikachu’s, careful of the wires and tubes surrounding his best friend. Pikachu’s chest rose and fell with the help of the machines, but it was far from the lively, electric energy that usually radiated from the little Pokémon.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Ash whispered through his tears. “I should’ve been better. I should’ve protected you.” His voice cracked, and he let out a choked sob. “I just… I can’t lose you.”

Brock quietly stepped forward, placing a hand on Ash’s shoulder. “Ash, Pikachu’s still here. He’s fighting, just like he always has. You have to trust that he’ll come back.”

Ash didn’t move, his head still resting against the blanket. “I don’t know if I can do it without him,” he mumbled, his words muffled. “I don’t know how to keep going if he doesn’t wake up.”

Misty knelt down beside Ash, her own eyes misting over. She gently touched Pikachu’s arm, her fingers barely brushing the fur. “Ash, Pikachu’s part of you. He’s not gone. He’s right here, and he’s going to come back to you.” She swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. “But you have to take care of yourself too. Pikachu wouldn’t want you to fall apart like this.”

Ash’s grip on Pikachu tightened slightly. He knew they were right, but it didn’t ease the pain gnawing at his heart. He sat there, feeling the cold reality of the situation, wanting nothing more than for his friend to open his eyes and let out a cheerful “Pika!”

After a long silence, Brock knelt down beside Ash as well. “We’re not giving up on Pikachu. And we’re not giving up on you either. We’ll get through this—together.”

Ash slowly lifted his head, his tear-streaked face still filled with sadness, but with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. He looked at Misty and Brock, his voice barely a whisper. “I just… I don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re not alone, Ash,” Misty said firmly. “We’re here. We’ll always be here.”

Ash nodded slowly, his tears still falling but his resolve slowly returning. He reached out and gently patted Pikachu’s fur. “I’ll be here when you wake up, buddy. I’ll never leave your side.”

As Brock brushed his teeth, Misty looked through the window.

Ash was still hunched over, in the same position as thw afternoon.

Misty closed the curtain, letting out a long sigh as she turned to Brock, who was brushing his teeth, his face reflected in the bathroom mirror.

“I don’t know what to do, Brock,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “He’s not moving. He hasn’t eaten. It’s like he’s frozen there.”

Brock spit out the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, turning to Misty with a somber expression. “Ash always had a special bond with Pikachu, but I’ve never seen him this broken before.” He dried his hands with a towel, leaning against the bathroom doorframe. “We need to help him, but I don’t know if anything we say will reach him right now.”

Misty nodded, her arms crossed as she stared at the floor. “It’s not just about Pikachu, is it? Ash has been through so much... I think it’s all catching up to him.”

Brock frowned. “Yeah, it’s more than just Pikachu. All the battles, the losses, the constant pressure to be the best... it’s finally weighing him down. And now, with Pikachu in this state, it’s like his world is crumbling.”

Misty sighed again, sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes drifting toward the door. “We have to do something. We can’t just leave him like that.”

Brock crossed the room and sat beside her. “I know. But forcing him to move or eat right now might make things worse. He needs time to process this.”

Misty looked over at Brock, her blue eyes filled with concern. “But what if Pikachu doesn’t wake up? What if... Ash loses him?”

The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, Brock was silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in. He shook his head, refusing to accept that possibility. “We can’t think like that. Pikachu’s strong, and Ash needs to believe that too.”

Misty nodded but didn’t look convinced. “Yeah, but Ash isn’t strong right now. He’s breaking, Brock. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“I know,” Brock said softly. “But we’re going to have to be strong for him. We’ll be there for Ash no matter what. We always have been.” He stood up, placing a hand on Misty’s shoulder. “Let’s give him some more time tonight, but tomorrow... we’ll try again. We’ll keep trying until he pulls through.”

Misty gave a small nod, appreciating Brock’s steady presence. “Okay. But I’m staying close. If he needs anything in the middle of the night... I’ll be here.”

Brock smiled slightly. “You’re a good friend, Misty. Ash is lucky to have you.”

As Misty lay back on the bed, her mind kept drifting to Ash, still hunched over Pikachu’s hospital bed. She closed her eyes, praying silently for Pikachu’s recovery and for Ash to find the strength he needed.

Tomorrow, they’d face whatever came next—together.

When Brock and Misty woke up, they found themselves tangled together under the covers, with Brock’s arms wrapped around Misty in a loose hug. Misty blinked a few times, disoriented for a moment before realizing where she was.

She cleared her throat awkwardly and gently pulled away, sitting up. “Uh... morning, Brock.”

Brock rubbed his eyes and sat up as well, looking a bit embarrassed but quickly recovering. “Morning, Misty. Sleep okay?”

Misty stretched and gave him a small nod. “Yeah, I guess.” She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Ready to help Nurse Joy?”

Brock sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, but she’s not the only one who needs help.”

Misty looked at him, frowning a little. “You mean Ash, don’t you?”

Brock nodded, his face serious. “He’s not doing well. We need to be there for him, more than ever.”

Misty gave him a soft smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Where’s the girl-crazy Brock I know? You’ve been so serious lately.”

Brock chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I guess even I know when it’s time to put that aside. Ash is our friend, and right now, that’s more important than anything else.”

Misty looked at him, her smile growing a little. “Well, I guess you’ve grown up a bit. Who would’ve thought?”

Brock smirked, standing up and stretching. “Don’t get used to it.”

Misty laughed softly and stood up as well. “Alright, let’s go check on Ash... and Pikachu.” She paused, her voice softening. “I hope today’s better.”

Brock nodded, grabbing his green vest. “It will be. We’ll make sure of it.”

Ash sat slumped over in a chair by Pikachu’s bed, and he looked terrible. His normally vibrant jeans were wrinkled and dirt-streaked, his half-sleeve blue jacket soaked from tears or sweat, and his black shirt clung to him uncomfortably. His hair, usually messy in a charming way, was now completely disheveled, sticking up in all directions like he hadn't touched a brush in days. His signature hat was missing from his head—resting instead on Pikachu’s little body. He looked like a shell of his usual self, as if all the energy and fire had been drained from him.

Nurse Joy glanced at him worriedly, biting her lip. “I don’t know what to do anymore,” she said softly, looking at Brock and Misty with concern. “He’s not eating, he barely sleeps, and he won’t leave Pikachu’s side. I’m really worried about him.”

Brock folded his arms and studied Ash carefully. His friend was always resilient, but this time, it seemed different. “He needs more than rest... he needs to get checked out. By a handsome, reliable man.”

Before Brock could say another word, Misty, standing beside him, rolled her eyes and slapped his arm. “Brock! This isn’t the time for your flirting!” she whispered sharply, though there was a small smile tugging at her lips despite the situation.

Brock rubbed his arm with a sheepish grin. “Okay, okay. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Misty huffed, but her gaze softened as she looked back at Ash. “He’s really torn up, Brock. I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s blaming himself for everything, and it’s eating him alive.”

Brock’s expression grew serious again. “I know. And the longer he stays like this, the worse it’s going to get.” He sighed deeply. “We need to get him away from here, at least for a little while. But I doubt he’ll listen.”

Misty knelt down beside Ash, her voice soft as she spoke to him. “Ash… we’re really worried about you. You need to take care of yourself too, you know?”

Ash didn’t move, his eyes fixed on Pikachu’s still form. “I can’t leave Pikachu,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “He needs me.”

Misty’s heart clenched as she reached out, resting a hand on his arm. “Pikachu’s getting the best care possible. You need to let Nurse Joy do her job. Please, Ash… let us help you.”

Brock stepped forward, his voice more firm. “Come on, Ash. We’ll make sure Pikachu’s alright, but you have to take care of yourself too. What would Pikachu think if he woke up and saw you like this?”

Ash clenched his fists, his shoulders trembling. “I should’ve protected him. I should’ve been faster.”

Misty exchanged a worried glance with Brock. They both knew this was going to take more than a few comforting words.

Brock sighed, grabbing his medical kit and walking over to Ash. He knelt in front of his friend, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "Ash, look at me."

Ash hesitated, his eyes still downcast, but eventually, he glanced up at Brock. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles hanging heavy beneath them, and they were dull—devoid of the usual fire and determination that made Ash who he was. His once vibrant brown eyes now looked lifeless, reflecting exhaustion, worry, and guilt.

Brock frowned, waving a hand in front of Ash's face. "Your eyes... Ash, they look horrible. How long has it been since you’ve slept?"

Ash just shrugged weakly, not meeting his gaze again. “I don’t know. I don’t care.”

Brock grabbed his flashlight and gently shined it into Ash’s eyes. They didn’t respond well, and Brock grimaced. “Ash, you’re running yourself into the ground. Your body needs rest. Pikachu wouldn’t want to see you like this. You need to sleep, or you’ll end up in a hospital bed next to him.”

Ash flinched at that, but he didn’t protest. He just sat there, looking defeated.

Misty crouched down next to Brock, her voice soft but pleading. "Ash, listen to Brock. Pikachu’s fighting, but you need to fight too. We can’t lose you both.”

Brock placed his tools down and sighed, looking over at Misty. “He needs a break, Misty. Whether he wants it or not.”

Ash rubbed his eyes, but the exhaustion was still apparent. He looked like he was on the verge of collapsing.

Brock slipped his stethoscope under Ash's wrinkled jacket and damp shirt, pressing it gently against Ash's chest. He listened intently, and what he heard made him frown deeply. Ash’s lungs sounded labored, each breath uneven and wheezy, as if his body was struggling to keep up with his exhaustion. The sound was rough, like someone much older than Ash, who had pushed themselves far too hard for far too long.

Brock shook his head in concern, taking the earpieces out. "Ash, this isn’t good. Your lungs... they sound bad. Really bad."

He handed the stethoscope to Misty, motioning for her to listen. Misty hesitated for a second, then placed the earpieces in and pressed the chest piece to Ash’s back, listening carefully. Her eyes widened as she heard the same strained breaths Brock had.

"Ash," Misty said, her voice a mixture of worry and frustration, "you sound like you’ve been running for days without rest. You’re going to make yourself sick—no, you already are."

Ash remained silent, his eyes still downcast. He knew they were right, but all he could think about was Pikachu lying in that hospital bed, fighting for his life. He felt like he didn’t deserve rest, not when his best friend was still suffering.

Brock took the stethoscope back and placed a firm hand on Ash’s shoulder. "Ash, I know you’re worried about Pikachu. We all are. But you need to take care of yourself, too. You can’t help Pikachu if you’re falling apart."

Misty nodded, her expression softening. "We’ll be here with Pikachu the whole time. But you need to rest, Ash. Please."

Ash shook his head slightly. "I... I can’t." His voice cracked, barely a whisper. "Not until I know Pikachu’s okay."

Brock sighed deeply, the weight of Ash’s condition pressing heavily on his shoulders. He reached into his medical bag and pulled out a syringe. "Might as well be a good time to give you a shot," he said, trying to keep his tone light.

Ash didn't even flinch at the sight of the needle. He just sat there, his expression blank, as if he had resigned himself to whatever was happening around him. Brock's heart sank further. The lack of protest from Ash was what truly scared him. Ash was usually the first to fight back against any kind of treatment, even when it was for his own good.

Misty noticed the change in Brock's demeanor. "Brock, are you okay?" she asked, concern creeping into her voice. She could see that Brock was worried—not just about Ash, but also about what his silence meant.

"I’m just… I don’t like how he’s acting," Brock admitted, glancing back at Ash. "He’s usually so fiery and full of life, and now he looks... defeated."

Ash sat still, his gaze focused on Pikachu’s blanket, his hands resting limply in his lap. He seemed miles away, lost in thoughts that weighed heavily on him.

"Hey, Ash," Brock said softly, kneeling down to meet his friend’s gaze. "I’m going to give you this shot. It’ll help you feel better, I promise. But I need you to look at me."

Ash finally lifted his head, but the spark in his eyes was dim, replaced by an overwhelming sense of sadness and fatigue.

"Just a quick shot," Brock reassured him. "Then we can go back to Pikachu, okay? You need to be strong for him."

Ash nodded slowly, his voice barely a whisper. "Okay."

Brock prepared the shot, trying to suppress the worry gnawing at him. He could see Ash wasn’t just tired; he was emotionally drained, too. As he approached Ash, Misty reached out and squeezed Ash's hand, offering silent support.

"You're not alone, Ash," she said softly. "We’re all here for you."

Brock gently administered the shot, and Ash flinched slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Once it was done, Ash took a deep breath and tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Brock stood back, feeling a mix of relief and concern. "There you go. Now let’s check on Pikachu, alright?"

But as they moved toward the door, Ash’s voice stopped them. "What if… what if he doesn’t wake up?" The question hung heavily in the air, revealing the raw fear that had been building inside him.

Misty knelt beside him, her heart aching for her friend. "He will wake up, Ash. You have to believe that. You and Pikachu are a team. You’ve always fought through tough times together."

Brock nodded, doing his best to mask his own worry with a reassuring smile. "Yeah, and we’re going to make sure he gets through this. Together."

With one last hesitant look back at Pikachu’s room, Ash took a shaky breath and stood up, ready to face whatever came next—together with his friends.

Ash sat at the small table in Brock's room, staring down at the untouched food on his plate. His appetite had vanished along with his energy, and he absentmindedly poked at the food with his fork. Brock and Misty exchanged worried glances as they watched him.

"Come on, Ash," Brock urged gently. "You need to eat something. You can’t help Pikachu if you’re not feeling well yourself."

Ash groaned, the sound a mix of frustration and despair. He didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to do anything but sit here and worry about Pikachu. With a deep sigh, he managed to take one small bite of the food, but as soon as it hit his stomach, he felt a wave of nausea wash over him.

Before either Brock or Misty could react, Ash jumped up from the table, his face pale. “I… I need to go!” he stammered, dashing toward the bathroom.

Brock and Misty rushed after him, concern etched on their faces. They found Ash hunched over the toilet, heaving and retching, the food he had just forced himself to eat coming back up. Misty held back her own nausea as she rushed to his side, rubbing his back soothingly.

“Just breathe, Ash. It’s okay,” she whispered, trying to comfort him as he struggled to regain control. “You’re going to be alright.”

Brock knelt beside Ash, worry deepening in his voice. “You really need to take care of yourself. You can’t help Pikachu like this,” he said softly, hoping to reach the part of Ash that was still fighting.

Once Ash was finished, he leaned back against the cool bathroom wall, breathing heavily, exhaustion visible in his eyes. He looked up at Brock and Misty, shame and frustration flooding his expression.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “I just can’t… I can’t think about eating right now.”

Misty crouched beside him, looking him in the eye. “It’s okay, Ash. We understand. But you have to try for your own sake. You have to be strong.”

Brock nodded, offering a reassuring smile. “Yeah, and I’ll make you something easy on your stomach next time. No more heavy stuff, I promise.”

Ash rubbed his eyes, feeling the weight of their concern pressing down on him. “I just wish Pikachu would wake up… I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Misty’s heart ached for him. “Pikachu needs you to be strong right now, Ash. You can’t give up on him. Just take it one step at a time, okay?”

Ash nodded slowly, drawing a shaky breath. “Okay… I’ll try.”

Brock stood at the stove, stirring a pot of oatmeal, the warm steam rising into the air. He had tried to make it comforting, adding a sprinkle of cinnamon and a drizzle of honey, but he knew Ash was in no state to appreciate it. As he poured the oatmeal into a bowl, he called out, “Ash! Breakfast is ready!”

But instead of a response, there was only silence. Brock exchanged a worried glance with Misty. “Do you think he’s okay?”

Before Misty could answer, they heard the familiar sound of Ash’s footsteps rushing past them. “Sorry, Brock! It’s really good usually!” he called out as he darted past, his voice strained.

“Where are you going?” Brock shouted after him, but Ash was already halfway to Pikachu’s room.

Misty sighed, crossing her arms. “That achieved nothing. He needs to eat, and running away isn’t helping.”

Brock nodded, setting the bowl down on the counter. “I know. It’s like he’s in his own world. We might have to call Professor Oak.”

“Yeah,” Misty agreed. “He knows Ash better than anyone. Maybe he can talk some sense into him or even help him with whatever he’s going through.”

Brock picked up his phone and dialed Professor Oak’s number, the ringing echoing through the quiet room. He hoped that Oak’s wisdom would provide the guidance they all desperately needed. When the professor answered, his warm voice came through the speaker.

“Brock! It’s good to hear from you. How’s Ash doing?”

“Not great, Professor. He’s really struggling after what happened to Pikachu. He’s barely eating and seems… lost.”

“Oh dear,” Oak replied, concern threading through his words. “That’s understandable given the circumstances. I’ll come right away.”

“Thanks, Professor. We’ll be waiting,” Brock said, hanging up and turning to Misty. “He’s on his way. Hopefully, he can reach Ash.”

“Good,” Misty replied, glancing toward the door of Pikachu’s room. “He needs someone who understands him. We can’t force him to eat, but maybe Oak can help him see that he needs to take care of himself.”

Brock nodded, knowing they had to be patient. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t shut himself off completely.”

Professor Oak dismounted his dragon, the majestic creature flapping its wings as it landed gracefully. He brushed off his lab coat and walked purposefully toward the Pokémon Center, glancing around to take in the surroundings. “Where is he?” he asked, a mixture of concern and urgency in his voice.

Brock quickly pointed to the room where Ash and Pikachu were, his expression serious. “In there. Just be gentle, Professor. He’s not doing well.”

Without hesitation, Oak strode toward the door, but before he could knock, he called out, “Ash! You look—”

Misty and Brock exchanged horrified glances and hurriedly covered his mouth. “You heard nothing!” Brock insisted, his eyes wide.

Oak blinked in confusion behind their hands, momentarily taken aback. “What? I was going to say he looks… tired.”

“Right, tired!” Misty added, lowering her hands slowly. “We need to be careful. He’s really sensitive right now.”

Oak chuckled softly, shaking his head as he stepped back to gather himself. “I apologize. Sometimes I forget how direct I can be. Let’s try to approach this carefully.”

With that, they opened the door, revealing Ash, who was still hunched over Pikachu’s blanket, his face streaked with dried tears. The moment Ash saw Oak, his expression shifted from despair to a mix of surprise and discomfort.

“Professor Oak?” Ash’s voice cracked slightly, his eyes red from crying.

“Yes, Ash,” Oak said gently, stepping inside. “I came as soon as I heard. How are you holding up?”

“I—” Ash started, but the words caught in his throat. He looked away, trying to hide the pain etched on his face.

Oak knelt down beside him, keeping his voice calm and steady. “I know you’re feeling lost right now, but it’s important to talk about what you’re going through. Pikachu cares about you, and so do your friends.”

Brock and Misty stood back, letting the professor take the lead. They could see Ash’s shoulders tense at Oak’s words, but they also noticed a flicker of hope in his eyes.

“I just don’t want to lose him,” Ash finally whispered, his voice trembling. “I couldn’t save him…”

“You did everything you could,” Oak reassured him. “Pikachu knows how much you care. You’ve always fought for your friends, and it’s okay to lean on others for support when you need it.”

Ash wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, taking a deep breath. “I… I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You could never be a burden to us,” Brock chimed in, stepping forward. “We’re here to help you, Ash. Let us in.”

Misty nodded, her eyes softening. “You don’t have to face this alone. We’re your friends, and we’re in this together.”

Ash glanced between them, his heart aching but feeling a little lighter. “Okay,” he whispered, allowing the words to finally escape. “Okay, I’ll try.”

After some gentle coaxing, Ash finally opened up, his voice shaking as he shared the weight on his heart. “I just feel like I’m not enough. Like every time I try to save my Pokémon, I end up hurting them instead.” His eyes filled with tears, and he looked away, ashamed.

Brock’s heart broke at his friend’s words. “Ash, that’s not true,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve saved so many lives. You’re brave, and you care more than anyone I know.”

Misty nodded, her own tears spilling down her cheeks. “You’re a hero, Ash. You always put others before yourself. It’s okay to feel scared or worried. It shows how much you love Pikachu and all your Pokémon.”

But Ash shook his head, his expression filled with regret. “What if one day… I can’t save anyone? What if I lose Pikachu for real?”

As he spoke, the floodgates opened. Ash’s emotions poured out, raw and unfiltered. “He’s been with me since the beginning. I don’t know what I’d do without him! He’s my best friend, and I feel like I’m letting him down.”

Brock stepped closer, unable to hold back his tears any longer. “You’re not letting him down, Ash. You’re doing everything you can, and that’s what matters. You’ve been there for him through so much, just like he’s been there for you.”

Misty couldn’t hold back her sobs either, the sight of Ash in such pain tearing at her heart. “We all love you, Ash. We want to help you. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Ash’s shoulders shook as he let the tears fall freely, feeling the weight of his friends’ words. The room was filled with emotion as they each cried—Ash, for his fears and regrets; Brock and Misty, for their love and concern.

“I don’t want to lose him,” Ash whispered, his voice barely audible through his sobs.

“You won’t,” Brock promised, his own voice trembling. “We’ll fight for him together. We’ll get through this, Ash. You’re not alone.”

Misty nodded, wrapping her arms around Ash in a tight embrace. “We’re all here for you. You’re a part of our family, and we’ll always fight for each other.”

Suddenly, Nurse Joy ran in, her voice broke through the heavy silence in the room, her eyes wide with surprise. “Pikachu moved!”

“What?!” Ash exclaimed, his heart racing. He bolted from his seat, rushing to Pikachu’s side.

He dropped to the floor beside his best friend, his breath caught in his throat. He stared at Pikachu, who lay still, but his tail twitched slightly, and Ash felt a rush of hope flooding through him.

“Pika...?” Ash whispered, reaching out a trembling hand to gently touch Pikachu’s fur.

Brock and Misty exchanged worried glances, unsure of how to interpret this sudden movement. Nurse Joy stepped closer, her expression a mix of hope and caution. “Uh... Is he okay?” she asked, watching Ash’s intense focus on Pikachu.

Ash didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned closer, willing Pikachu to open his eyes. “Come on, buddy,” he urged softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I need you to wake up. We all do.”

The seconds felt like hours as he waited, his heart pounding in his chest. Suddenly, Pikachu’s eyes fluttered open, albeit weakly.

“Pikachu!” Ash cried, a smile breaking through the tears on his face. “You’re awake!”

Pikachu looked up at Ash, a faint spark of recognition lighting in his eyes. “Pika...chu?” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

“Yes! I’m right here!” Ash said, his voice cracking. “You scared me so much!”

He picked Pikachu up and started to twirl, hugging him tightly.

Brock stepped closer, his own heart swelling with relief. “Looks like he’s back with us, Ash. Just give him some time.”

Misty knelt down beside them, her eyes shining. “You’re going to be okay, Pikachu. We’re all here for you,” she said, brushing a gentle hand along Pikachu’s fur.

Pikachu smiled weakly, then turned his gaze back to Ash, his energy slowly returning. “Pika...” he said softly, as if reassuring Ash that he was still there.

Ash laughed through his tears, relief washing over him. “See? I told you we’d get through this together!”

Nurse Joy smiled, watching the reunion with warmth. “He still needs some care, but this is a great sign. Just take it easy for now.”

Ash nodded, unable to take his eyes off Pikachu. “I’ll do anything, Nurse Joy. Just tell me what he needs.”