The night was dark as ink.
Deep within the Fuchsia Gym.
In a secret chamber that blended traditional Japanese aesthetics with an array of modern electronic equipment, Koga sat cross-legged on a tatami mat, eyes closed, mind focused.
As the head of a ninja clan with a long and storied lineage, and as the Gym Leader of Fuchsia City, he had long since grown accustomed to conducting his affairs in the dark.
This was the ninja way.
A ninja endures what ordinary people cannot endure!
The feeds from the microscopic cameras hidden throughout the Gym — alongside the ultrasonic data relayed back by the Venonat and Zubat he had trained — were all organized and displayed before him.
And it wasn't just the Gym. The entire city was his domain.
The moment Ash and his companions stepped through the doors of the Fuchsia City Pokémon Center, they had already entered his field of vision.
"Ash from Pallet Town. Brock from Pewter City. Misty from Cerulean City..." Koga mentally recited each name, his expression perfectly composed.
The title of Rainbow Hero — he had already learned of it from Boss Giovanni.
Brock was a familiar face from the same profession. Misty was a colleague's daughter.
He had even quietly observed the three of them during his time in Gringey City, but had no intention of making contact. A ninja acts in the shadows — not out in the open, making grand speeches on a stage!
Come silently. Go silently. Leave not so much as a cloud behind.
This was the ninja way.
So what if the boy had been chosen by Ho-Oh as the Rainbow Hero?
Koga had his own rules and measures. As long as the other party respected Fuchsia City's laws and didn't actively provoke trouble, he would treat them with proper courtesy.
Even the Rainbow Hero, if he wished to challenge the Fuchsia Gym, would have to follow the rules Koga had set — ascending that mountain path riddled with mechanisms and traps, one step at a time.
As for whether Ash would succeed?
Koga didn't particularly care. One of the Gym's core purposes was precisely this: to filter and to forge. Passing was proof of one's strength and fortune. Failing was a valuable experience for growth.
Koga held no bias in either direction, and would neither deliberately obstruct nor hand out favors simply because of Ash's special status.
Everything would proceed at its established level of difficulty.
Everything seemed to be firmly under control...
It should have been.
But now, a small unexpected development had arisen.
An... ever so slightly earth-shattering unexpected development.
On one of the split-screens before him, the feed was locked onto the edge of the city district. It was a live image transmitted back by the Pokémon he had sent to "routinely monitor" Professor Oak's grandson, Gary.
Giving the professor's grandson just a slightly elevated level of attention was only prudent.
The image showed Gary and Ash engaged in a Pokémon battle.
But the battle itself was hardly the focus of Koga's attention. Those two were undeniably talented, but their potential had yet to fully manifest.
What was truly making the fingers of Koga — fingers tempered through a hundred thousand trials, capable of plucking an ant from a pot of boiling oil without the slightest tremor — tremble... was naturally that golden figure at Ash's side.
Koga's pupils contracted sharply in the darkness, like a feline creature that had just laid eyes on its natural predator.
The cold glow of the screen fell across his face, clearly illuminating the shock and disbelief that he normally kept perpetually hidden beneath his mask.
What... was that?
A... golden... Fearow?
No.
Absolutely impossible.
Koga's breath very nearly stopped in that instant.
He stared fixedly at that "Fearow" leisurely preening its own feathers.
That gold plumage, so brilliant it was nearly searing to look at.
Those eyes — appearing languid on the surface, yet containing within them the detached indifference of something that gazed down upon all living things.
That life-force and divine aura — even restrained to its utmost, still blazing like a torch in the darkness...
As the head of an ancient ninja clan.
As an Elite Four-tier Trainer who had spent a lifetime dealing with Poison-type and Bug-type Pokémon, his sensitivity to life energy honed to an extraordinary degree — Koga's perception far exceeded that of any ordinary person.
He had never personally witnessed Ho-Oh reveal its true form. But the ancient scrolls passed down within the clan, combined with what had transpired in Gringey City not long ago, and the singular nature of Ash's identity — all of it allowed him to instantly confirm the absurd, terrifying truth.
What the —
WHAT.
That golden Fearow was unmistakably the god revered across Kanto and Johto.
The God of Atmospheric Currents who presided over the rainbow and the sacred fire of life — Ho-Oh!
This was beyond outrageous.
Ho-Oh... had disguised itself as a Fearow?
And it was traveling alongside Ash, looking for all the world like it had been caught in a Poké Ball?!
This was even more preposterous than a minister stumbling upon the emperor sneaking out of the palace in commoner's clothes.
Even with a will as steeled as iron, Koga felt his entire worldview being pressed flat against the ground and scraped raw.
"Outrageous" wasn't even the right word anymore. This had completely upended every single thing he thought he understood about the dignity of a god.
— You are Ho-Oh!
— How could you disguise yourself as a Fearow?!
— The historical records about the Rainbow Hero never mentioned that Ho-Oh would personally follow the Hero around!
— Wasn't it said that in critical moments, the Rainbow Hero could contact Ho-Oh?
— What in the world is going on here?!
Koga felt his ninja composure undergoing a trial unlike anything it had faced before.
This, incidentally, was precisely one of the reasons Ash was so reluctant to let his status as Rainbow Hero become widely known.
Even Brock, outwardly calm, had already suffered several internal collapses by this point.
In fact, Brock had simply chosen to refuse to acknowledge that the Golden Fearow was Ho-Oh.
This was the Will of Stone!!
It was also a large part of why the group had lingered in Gringey City for several extra days before moving on — Brock had primarily needed that time to rebuild his own psychological foundations.
— His close friend had suddenly ascended to the divine?
How could something like this even happen?
It wasn't a matter of envy or jealousy. It was simply too absurd, too strange.
Watching the thoroughly carefree and unbothered Misty, Brock couldn't help but feel a quiet pang of wistfulness. Sometimes, ignorance really was bliss. At least it spared you the mental pressure. The more you knew, the more it drove you mad.
Just like Brock had been the first to guess the true identity of the Golden Fearow, the corner of Koga's mouth behind his mask was likely twitching in a manner that was thoroughly unbecoming.
How was he supposed to handle this "by the book"?
If Ash brought Ho-Oh to challenge the Gym — what then?
The mere thought of that scenario made Koga feel like his professional career might be arriving at an early end.
Should he pretend he hadn't recognized Ho-Oh's identity?
If he pretended not to know — what if, in the course of the Gym challenge, he inadvertently hurt the Rainbow Hero right under Ho-Oh's nose?
But if he openly declared that he knew — Ho-Oh had gone to the trouble of disguising itself, and he still dared to announce that he'd seen through it. What exactly was he trying to accomplish?
...Cold sweat had silently soaked through the back of Koga's robes.
Ho-Oh was also, categorically, the single worst possible matchup for Koga.
No matter how terrifying his poisons were, Ho-Oh could simply purify and reset any status condition it liked.
And beyond poison, Koga didn't possess particularly overwhelming attack power, defense, or speed — Ho-Oh could simply backhand him into a pile of ash.
So he did not share Giovanni's particular brand of composure.
Koga drew several long, slow breaths, forcing himself to calm down.
This was no longer something he could handle on his own.
Moving with a slight stiffness, he operated the encrypted communications device before him. His fingers paused several times over the virtual keyboard before he finally, painfully, finished composing his message.
Koga didn't elaborate. He simply took the surveillance footage of the "Golden Fearow" interacting with Ash, encrypted it, and sent it directly to one specific contact — Giovanni.
Yes. He sent it to Giovanni.
Not to the League.
Koga was genuinely one of Giovanni's men — and was even planning to head to Johto ahead of him to serve as a vanguard.
Anything to escape the hellish difficulty curve of Kanto.
In Johto, Koga was confident he could immediately claim a seat among the Elite Four.
After sending the message, the secret chamber fell into a silence like death.
Koga sat motionless as a stone carving, waiting for a response, his heart a tangle of conflicting emotions.
The waiting was, without question, agonizing.
He didn't know how much time had passed before the encrypted communicator finally emitted a faint glow, signaling a reply. Koga opened it almost instantly.
The reply was from Giovanni. Its contents were brief to the point of suffocation:
"Ho-Oh acts of its own will. Interference is inadvisable. Proceed as normal. Exercise your own judgment and act as you see fit."
Giovanni's meaning was blunt: coming to me about this is useless.
Back in Gringey City, Giovanni had already exchanged blows with Ho-Oh — and lost. Laughably.
How do you fight an opponent you simply cannot kill?
Giovanni could not kill Ho-Oh.
But Ho-Oh was fully capable of killing Giovanni.
Giovanni's investment in his Beedrill was entirely in attack speed, movement speed, offensive power, and penetration. Sealing-type techniques were completely outside its repertoire. It was built to slay the weak and the vulnerable.
At the end of the day, even the powerful have their own particular leanings and limitations.
Against any enemy that fell outside Beedrill's kill threshold, Giovanni simply had no answer.
One full combo that kills: you win.
One full combo that doesn't: you lose. Full stop.
Koga: "..."
He stared at that single line of text, and felt a chill rise from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his skull. His mind went completely blank.
— Boss!
— You're just... leaving me to deal with this?!
"Exercise your own judgment"?
"Act as you see fit"?
— You mean figure it out myself?
— HOW am I supposed to figure this out?!
— That's HO-OH.
For the first time in his life, Koga felt that a leader who delegated too much was not, in fact, a good thing.
Just as Koga's inner war was reaching a crescendo and he was very nearly losing his mind — the door to the secret chamber slid open without a sound, and a small, slender figure slipped inside.
The newcomer wore a pink ninja uniform that traced the curves of a youthful figure.
This beautiful young girl was none other than Koga's younger sister — Aya.
"Brother, something seems off with your expression," Aya tilted her head, having sharply detected the abnormality in Koga's mood.
Koga snapped back to attention at once, instantly suppressing every trace of his inner turmoil and resuming his usual composed stoicism.
He cleared his throat lightly, his tone flat and undisturbed: "It is nothing. A few trivial matters, that's all."
The matter of Ho-Oh could absolutely not be spoken of carelessly.
First rule of the ninja code: don't ask what you shouldn't ask, don't say what you shouldn't say. The more secrets you know, the faster you tend to die.
Aya blinked her wide eyes.
She was curious, but seeing that her brother had no wish to elaborate, she was sensible enough not to press. She had grown up in a ninja family — this culture of keeping secrets was nothing new to her.
"By the way, where is Janine?" Koga shifted the subject, bringing up his daughter.
"Janine?" Aya replied. "She went to the newly built waste site — the one set up to house the Grimer, Muk, Trubbish, and Garbodor brought back from Gringey City."
"The underground tunnels over there were just finished by the Diglett. She went to bring them food, and to check in on the new residents while she was at it."
That batch of Poison-type Pokémon from Gringey City was genuinely a rare type, all things considered.
They had, after all, been bathed in the sacred fire of Ho-Oh itself.
"..." Koga gave a small nod, and something in his mind clicked quietly into motion.
He sat in thought for a moment, seeming to weigh something — and then made his decision.
He operated the device for a few seconds, pulling up a clear photograph of Ash along with some basic information, and displayed it for Aya.
"When Janine gets back, have her discreetly tail this boy named Ash," Koga's voice dropped very low.
"Remember — discreetly."
"Under absolutely no circumstances is she to be detected. And even more importantly, she must not engage in any conflict with him whatsoever."
"Simply observe from a distance, note the general outline of his movements, and report back."
The gravity of his tone made even Aya blink in mild surprise.
Aya leaned in toward the screen and studied Ash's photograph carefully.
It showed a boy who looked bright and energetic, with a Pikachu perched on his shoulder.
"This is the one? He doesn't look particularly special to me..." Aya murmured quietly to herself. Then she raised her head, a glimmer of understanding crossing her eyes.
"Brother, you're suddenly paying this much attention to him... is it because of what you mentioned before — about developing your career in Johto?"
"You want to find new allies for the Fuchsia Gym before you leave?"
"Or... are you trying to see whether he's worth investing in?"
Aya had naturally arrived at this conclusion.
After all, her brother Koga had long since been unable to advance in Kanto — the competition for Elite Four seats was simply too fierce — and the idea of heading to Johto, where talent was comparatively scarce, to forge a new path had already been taking root in his mind.
It was hardly a secret in the tight-knit circle of Gym Leaders.
Getting ahead of the curve and keeping tabs on promising young Trainers was something many veteran Trainers did as a matter of course — plenty of people were more than happy to nurture the next generation.
Hearing this, Koga laughed bitterly on the inside.
Invest? I wish...
He felt vaguely aware that his daughter and that boy were probably around the same age.
But his face betrayed nothing. He simply followed Aya's lead and gave a slight nod.
"Mm. That is indeed part of the consideration. My departure to Johto is already decided, but the specific timing still requires some preparation. In the meantime, gathering intelligence on promising newcomers is never a bad idea."
He couldn't explain the truth. He could only use a plausible and reasonable excuse to paper over his actual motives.
What he really wanted was to ensure that Ho-Oh's stay in Fuchsia City was a pleasant one — and that no fool who didn't know any better went and provoked it.
Koga had to admit, Fuchsia City did have its share of disagreeable types.
A big enough forest will have all kinds of birds in it, after all.
Having Janine tail them — well, calling it surveillance was being generous. It was more accurately the highest-order escort and early-warning service he could provide.
The moment she detected any sign of something that might displease Ho-Oh, he could rush over and throw himself prostrate at its feet at a moment's notice — or rather, go and handle the situation promptly.
In any case: Ho-Oh must not leave here dissatisfied.
Ho-Oh's status was, after all, profoundly sacred.
Giovanni wouldn't have gone out of his way to pick a fight with Ho-Oh if it hadn't been for his rage over his son. Raising your hand against the object of your people's cultural faith was a very efficient way to drive your own subordinates into open revolt.
Unlike the gods of other regions, Ho-Oh was simply far too present — far too real and immediate.
One could almost say its existence was woven into the very history of humanity in Kanto and Johto.
And Ho-Oh was a benevolent god.
Nothing like certain entities in other belief systems whose interventions tended to produce rather unpleasant results.
"Understood. I'll pass it along to Janine." Aya nodded, committing Ash's features to memory. "She'll be careful."
After Aya left, the secret chamber returned to silence once more.
Koga sat alone in the dark, his gaze drifting back to the photograph of Ash on the screen — and to that sliver of gold at the photograph's edge that made his heart lurch in his chest.
He let out a long, slow sigh, and rubbed his temples, which had begun to ache.
"Proceed as normal... proceed as normal..."
He murmured the words to himself, and each syllable felt like it weighed a thousand tons.
The Fuchsia Gym was about to receive, by far, the strangest — and most nerve-wracking — challenge in all its history.
This wasn't a question of whether he could win or lose.
It was a question of how on earth he was supposed to handle himself.
Koga could only hope that Ho-Oh... would enjoy the experience.
____
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