If you're reading this, than I'm sure you've imagined being here where I am once or twice. Okay, let's be real, it was probably a
lot more than just once or twice. I'm not ashamed to admit that I myself quite often fantasied about just such a situation. It actually happening though? I expected it about as much as the next guy - that is to say, not at all. It was never really more than a childish wish and yearning that had long since withered in the face of harsh reality.
That is, until I slipped on a patch of icy road and had an impromptu and non-consensual make-out session with Truck-kun's front bumper.
Or at least that's what I assume happened - it's sort of the default option. Truth be told, I don't really remember any of the events that led up to me waking up with a new face. In fact a lot of my past memories and history is kind of fuzzy and indistinct to me nowadays - with the notable exception of one very relevant subject. Honestly I kinda just want to blame the Big Goat in the Sky. It would make as much sense as anything else. Still, I definitely wasn't complaining. As I said, this was still easily one of my greatest fantasies. I just always imagined it would be a bit less… painful.
"Focus, Young Master," The older man in a karate gi barked at me sternly, just as his rising roundhouse kick cracked across my jaw. The force was enough to pick my prepubescent body up off the ground and toss me to the side. I desperately blinked the tears out of my eyes and spat out the mouthful of blood from where I'd bitten my tongue. Despite how comfortable and inviting the grassy field beneath my hands seemed at the moment, I was quick in pushing myself back to my feet regardless of the way the world still seemed to be spinning beneath my feet. I knew better than to take too long to rise.
"Yes, Sensei," I slurred in dull response mostly on reflex as I tried to blink away the stars and make the three or four men I could see resolve back into a single image. Raising my arms into place I swiftly settled into the stance we had been drilling for the better part of the last hour and was only just able to interpose my forearm between his next kick and my head more out of luck than skill. It was still enough to stagger me a step or two and made arm throb.
"Better. But your stance is still off. You must be deeper, and more rooted," he instructed gruffly, nudging my feet with his own. I just nodded and squatted a bit lower, panting too harshly to waste the breath on a reply. Seriously, I thought they only beat the shit out of eight year olds in the name of training like this in Naruto, but this was entirely the wrong series for that.
Sensei just examined me critically, his permanent slight frown twitching minutely at whatever he saw. Without another word his leg once more rose in a swift side strike with an equal amount of force and sure enough, this time I was able to take the blow and sway to the side but not taking a step. "Good," he said, settling into his own stance again.
Before lashing out with a lightning fast fist like a striking Seviper and decking me right in the face, knocking me on my ass once again. "But your arms are out of position. You must protect yourself. The foes you will face will not be as merciful as I." I just lay there for a moment, waiting for the ringing in my ears to stop and for my nose drop out of wherever it had lodged itself inside my braincase.
Somehow, all those times I had imagined myself being reborn in the Pokemon World I never quite expected it to taste so much like blood and teeth.
_/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\_
My new beginning in another world started much as a the innumerable amount of trashy isekai light novels and fanfiction I had read told me was standard; waking up as an infant being passed around between giants speaking an unknown language only to later realize they were my new parents. I'd like to think I took the moment well, reacting with my new and sudden circumstances with grace and aplomb - but I know better than to lie to myself. I'm not so special as to be able to experience such a sudden and dramatic paradigm shift with nary a reaction and keep a stiff upper lip. I wailed and cried and freaked the hell out like anyone would.
Thankfully enough though, I didn't really drag that phase out though. I didn't ruminate on all that I had lost and lament the things that could have been or make some sort of asinine vow to, "Find a way home, no matter what!" or anything like that. I mean, come on. I was a weeb, a hikki-NEET who had been isekai'd. I was
prepared for this. Honestly it was kind of easy for me to accept my new place in the world. It probably helped that I was rocking some
serious Main Character energy.
One of my first clues that I wasn't reborn as some common schlub was the fact that the first thing I saw the first time I opened my eyes wasn't some sterile hospital room but instead the canopy of a massive and intricately embroidered four poster bed. The posts holding it up where some kind of dark mahogany and inlaid with literal gold, and surrounding myself and my screaming mother was a small army of nurses and midwives, including more than one Chansey and Audino. I was still a tiny and shriveled little thing at that point and couldn't quite understand everything that was going on, but the atmosphere of the place just screamed opulence and wealth, from the rich red carpet to the stained glass windows. When the nurses took my fresh and squealing form and handed me to my exhausted mother I got a good look at her and I could immediately tell that she was no ordinary woman.
I'm sure every little boy says this, but my mother was beautiful. No, not just beautiful, she was drop dead gorgeous. Soft and full bodied in a way that was both feminine and maternal, sharp green eyes like chips of emeralds that softened at the sight of me, high aristocratic cheekbones in a heart-shaped face that screamed of high class breeding. Her face was red and flushed and her hair like spun gold was disheveled from its natural state of subtle waves and soft curls and clung to her sweat soaked forehead. Her face didn't look like one used to strong displays of emotion one way or another, but the way her expression softened and she seemed to glow from within was… humbling, in a way that was hard to put into words. From the exited chattering and soft crooning of the many nurses surrounding us as the new mother softly held her newborn baby close, I was not alone in my assessment.
It wasn't much longer after that though that the man I would later learn to be my father swept into the room, throwing the large double doors wide open, ignoring the vocal protests of the two maids that seemed to have been stationed just outside the doors. Immediately the quiet air of joy and wonder was snuffed out like a candle in the wind and the room fell quiet as he strode up to the bedside where his wife had just borne him a son. The many nurses shuffled nervously in place, and he barked some command that cracked across the room despite not raising his voice or speaking harshly. There was a brief flash of fear in my mother's eyes, there an then hidden again so fast I almost thought I imagined it, before she slowly and carefully held out her arms, my tiny body still gently cradled in her grasp. With much less care, he quickly snatched me up, my new mother almost imperceptibly flinching at his sudden movement and her hands twitching where his fingers brushed hers.
I decided then and there that I didn't like this man very much.
I was small enough to almost fit in the palms of one of his large hands and he held me up high, towards the light to try and get a good look at me. He turned me this way and that, his handling of my newborn body just shy of too rough. For a long moment he just sort of held me up and started at me, and I, him. I was kind of starting to feel like Simba from the opening of The Lion King. He was strong and handsome looking, like a standard isekai noble, with short-cropped hair and a strong jaw and even the trademark red coat. His dark black hair was shot through with streaks of white at the temples, and the scruff along his jaw was sharp and angular, naturally growing in a cut that honestly looked kind of like an anime villain. His steely gray eyes were flat and cold, and for the life of me I couldn't read them. Really, if it wasn't for his healthy pallor and lack of obvious fangs I'd say he looked like a stereotypical anime vampire noble. After a while of staring at me though, he seemed to finally find whatever it was he was looking for.
His face split into a grin with far too many teeth that was sharp like a knife. He spoke several more words in a booming voice, and despite it all still being gibberish to me I could just barely make out some of the meaning it, just enough to barely catch something about "strong" and "blood". Which, you know, had all kinds of implications, many of them rather worrying. Whatever declaration it was that he made though, it mostly seemed to go over well enough, the strong air of tension in the room easing ever so slightly. He handed me back to my mother, all but shoving me into her arms and swiftly striding back out of the room nary a backwards glance, the doors slamming shut behind him.
With him gone, everyone seemed to breathe a bit easier, and my mother in particular was almost visibly relieved, her muscles relaxing as the suspense bleed out of her and she released a breath I hadn't realized she was holding. After a moment, once it was clear that my father wasn't about to turn around and come back everyone once more began to chatter excitedly. Everyone was talking among themselves with a reserved but eager energy, my mother the only one not saying anything. She was too busy starting at me with a quiet intensity that would have been intimidating if not for the soft look on her face and air of calm serenity that hung about her like a cloak. Slowly, she smiled, and as she did that's when I felt it.
Love. Pure, unconditional, and boundless. It was like the sunrise breaching the horizon, beautiful, awe inspiring and breathtaking. A calm, gentle, creeping thing that lit up the world and made her seem to glow from within. More sublime and exquisite than anything I'd ever encountered in either life, it struck me right down to my soul. I don't know how I could tell, why I could feel it, but it was undeniable and impossible to ignore. This was a mother's love,
my mother's love, and it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever experienced.
Without even realizing it, I had reached out towards her, blindly groping for that out pouring of love and compassion that filled the air like the most divine of melodies. My stubby, babyish hands clenched and unclenched, grasping uncoordinated and drawing a quiet laugh from my mother as she pulled me closer to lay gentle kisses on my fingers and forehead. My hands pressed against her face without any real input from me as I just laid back and basked in her love, and that's when I noticed the unusual markings I had.
Around my wrists were pale bands of luminescent flesh, glowing with a soft inner light. A cold, icy blue, like moonlight shining through frozen winter clouds, barely more blue than silvery-white. Pulsing softly, the light seemed to ebb and flow in time with the tides of emotion I could feel pouring from my mother towards me. Juding by the suddenly raised voices and excitement all around me, I wasn't the only one to notice the glowing marks, and they obviously meant more to everyone else then they did to me.
After a few minutes of everyone speaking among themselves and my mother just contentedly holding me close, one of the nurses - a stern and matronly looking woman - leaned down to gently ask my mother a question. Whatever it was she asked, it seemed to catch my mother briefly off guard, as she seemed to deeply contemplate something before coming to some sort of decision. Nodding to herself with a tiny smile that wouldn't leave her face, she whispered a single word that I would later realize was my new name.
"Alexander."
She said it a few times to herself, trying it out and almost seeming to taste the word, before nodding in satisfaction. The nurse who asked the question smiled indulgently and nodded before pulling away. It was a calm and peaceful moment, a new mother bonding with her first born child. Slowly, conversations came to a close, a comfortable silence falling over the room as the small army of nurses and mid-wives began to slowly shuffle their way towards the door and out of the room. Soon enough, the room was empty but for me and my mother, the matronly nurse the last one out, saying one last thing before shutting the doors behind her with a soft click of the latch.
I was still a bit curious as to what was going on and where everyone was going, but as mommy dearest began to pull open her gown to reveal her bare breasts, it occurred to me just how
ravenous I actually was at that moment. Carefully bringing me to her bare chest, I'm sure I was the only one to feel any sort of embarrassment as the reality of being an infant once again began to dawn on me. Latching on, I did my best to ignore the awkwardness that only I felt and push this memory deep down in the far corner of my mind and repress it, where it would no doubt pop back up in only the most unpleasant and inopportune times in the future. Thankfully, being as I was just born and a literal infant, I soon succumbed to exhaustion, falling asleep and was able to spare myself further indignity.
Which is how I ended my first day of my brand new Isekai life; weak, confused, utterly lost, and buried face first in a pile of tits larger than my head.
Meh, could be worse I guess.
_/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\_
The first few moments of my new life in this isekai world pretty much set the tone going forward. While my father was cold, harsh and distant, my mother was a font of calm, quiet compassion. She was a consummate example of a noble woman, regal and composed, but even her best efforts to keep a blank face weren't enough to fool me when I could literally feel the emotions that kept pouring out of her. Which was a whole thing of its own, to be honest.
It turns out, not only was I born into a fantasy world noble family, it was one of those situations were they weren't nobles just because they were rich, owned land and had a long history, but there was an actual honest-to-goodness supernatural bloodline. Moreover, it wasn't just a single noble house, but an entire Clan, and I just so happened to be the firstborn son of the current head of the Main House. On top of that, as far as anyone could tell the special bloodline of the clan was unusually strong with me, with obvious signs manifesting from the very moment of my birth - hence the glowing blue rings around my wrists and ankles. Like I said, serious Main Character energy.
The Gift was a bit different for everyone, but it seemed like being a natural Empath was a part of mine. It wasn't the only part of it, but it was the first bit I noticed and the most consistently obvious. Of course, not only was my Gift naturally powerful, but I was considered to be a natural born prodigy as well. Though to be fair, I was cheating.
Much like the standard isekai protagonist, upon being reborn into a new world in which supernatural phenomena were common, I had the unique advantage of having experienced a life without any of it. And thus, I was very sensitive to any of the supernatural energies that were omnipresent. Kind of like how fish don't realize they were underwater, I guess; just because I suddenly had gills now too didn't mean I forgot what it was like to have to breathe air.
I don't know if I'd call it mana or magic or anything considering which series I'd been isekai'd into, but there was definitely a sense of energy about things here that simply hadn't existed back in my previous world. Everything was starker and more vibrant and just sort of
more than they used to be, in a way that was difficult to describe or put into words. Colors were richer, sensations were sharper, and it was like the world itself was more vital and almost like it was alive. Every moment of every day, I was constantly being reminded that this was a brand new fantastical world, and I loved it.
It was exceedingly obvious to me that even if everything around me was absolutely swimming with pure, unbridled and untapped power and potential, it was like nobody else really seemed to pay it any mind. The latent energy was intangible and untouchable, and there were many layers to it all, each more incredible than the last and I just knew deep in my bones that I was barely scratching the surface. In those first few days, in between my various periods of sleeping and waking and eating - you know, being a literal newborn infant and all - I did pretty much nothing but admire it all. But even still, despite how amazing this new world of mine was, it was still nothing compared to the
people.
If the world itself was like someone turned up the saturation filter and gave even the base matter the eager energy of an excited puppy, according to whatever esoteric sense I had now every person I had seen was more like the core of a burning, incandescent star, trapped within a veil of mundane flesh. Brilliant and self-contained, once I managed to "open my inner eye" or whatever you wanted to call it and started to be more aware of the supernatural forces around me, it was impossible not to notice all the flares of life all around me.
I only saw a few different people in the first few days, women I could only assume to be house servants such as maids as well as the occasional wet-nurse, though by far my most common visitor was my dear mother. She would often talk with me, cooing gibberish and baby-talk when we were alone together even as she acted prim and proper the moment any of the maids opened the door, and over time I became more and more familiar with her, and by extension her inner energy. Whatever it was that I was feeling, it was apparently unique between individuals, with every person I had seen so far having a sort of unique "taste" or "feeling" to their energy. It was a sensation that completely lacked any sort of true equivalent or analogue to compare it to, one that was entirely distinct to every person, something that was theirs and theirs alone.
After a while, I had even become familiar enough with my mother's signature that I was still able to feel her for a while after she had left or when she was on her way to me. Whatever medium I was using to interpret this new sense of mine, it was definitely not visual or auditory - even if on occasion there was some small amount of similarity or overlap - because it wasn't very long before I was able to keep track of the people around me, even through closed doors or walls. There was definitely some element of familiarity to it though, because it was by far the easiest to keep track of my mother, her ember of energy distinct to me even partway across the manor, when I could only sense the maids from down the hall or just outside the door. It was mostly because of her that I started to learn more about my new world.
It was largely in part due to doing my best to keep track of her - not having much else to do as a sessile infant - that my new senses developed apace. And to be honest, I was using this new sense considerably more than my eyes and ears; not only was everything I experienced with it novel and interesting, but there wasn't really much to see or hear when I was laying in a bassinet all day. As I watched her move about, I came realize just how
large this new house of mine was, though it wasn't until one day when she took me with her to relax in one of the flower gardens that I really got a sense of scale.
I wasn't living in just a mansion, but practically an entire
palace. Five to seven stories tall at least throughout and big enough to necessitate phrases like 'Upper South-East Wing' or 'Second Ballroom'. It wasn't a singular building either, but an entire compound, with numerous outbuildings whose purpose I could only guess at, each one of which was large enough to be considered a manor in its own right. The main palatial structure was shaped vaguely like an asterisk with six branches, and in between two of those wings was the garden we went to, and even from where I was I could fountains and hedge rows and even the occasional court for sports in the distance. My mother held me as she walked through carefully curated paths, and all around us were a dizzying array of bright flowers, and even the occasional Flabébé or Cutiefly. It was almost overwhelming, the sheer amount of
life that was all around me.
I was honestly starting to get a bit dizzy trying to keep track of it all. There was so much to see and feel all around me, and seeing just the kind of place I was in for the first time was both humbling and exciting. It may have been a bit self-centered or arrogant of me, but I couldn't help but see it all as a sign of things to come, that my future was going to be something grand. Yes, I knew all the stereotypes and such about anime nobles, how sheltered and unworldly they are, all cloistered in their great manors. I didn't want to presume anything and end up disappointed - for all I knew I'd end up shut away from the world and subjected to exceedingly high standards and education dedicated to eventually be relegated to some overseer desk job as part of some family tradition. But I couldn't help it. I was excited. I was
hopeful. I was in the world of Pokemon now. I wasn't going to let anything get me down.
It seemed almost as if in response to my inner thoughts that it happened. My mother had stopped her aimless wandering about the gardens and taken a seat on one of the stone benches around a peacefully burbling fountain and was cradling my tiny body in her lap. With such an exquisite garden, it was hardly a surprise that the area attracted and was so well populated with numerous pokemon, though I was sure that the groundskeepers likely drove out any that could be considered dangerous or pests. Still, that left left a great many others all around us, such as the Ribombee that both my mother and I failed to notice until just as it was landing on my swaddling where I was held in her arms.
It was the first time I had been so close to a pokemon since I was born. There were several nurse pokemon present at my birth, but I hadn't seen anymore since then, and even back then they hadn't gotten very close. This cute little buggo however was literally right on top of me. Though I guess I didn't really have any stones to cast about calling something little at the moment - as small as I was at the moment the bee fly pokemon almost of an equal size to me. Still, maybe I couldn't help but think of it as small because more than anything, it looked like some sort of plush toy come to life. It was a cute and curious little thing, having flown over I assume just to investigate whatever it was that my mother was holding, though once it saw me its entire face lit up. It started dancing about and trilling happily, carefully and gently tapping at my face with its tiny pom-pom hands. The sight must have been inordinately adorable, because my mother was just staring down at us with one of the biggest smiles I'd yet seen on her face.
All the excited singing and dancing didn't go unnoticed however. Soon we were joined by another Ribombee who upon seeing what the fuss was about became happy enough to do a little trilling dance in the air. That then attracted another happy Ribombee, which called over some Cutiefly, who gathered some Flabebe, and it all just spiraled from there. Soon enough it seemed like every pokemon in the garden were all swarming around us, and we were covered in a thick cloud of little fairies. Mom was overjoyed, her eyes sparkling and smile so wide it looked like it hurt. Still though, having all these pokemon around me and so close was really driving home something that was really quite obvious in retrospect if I had ever taken a moment to consider it.
Pokemon weren't like people. And no, I didn't just mean in the obvious sense. They were different on a fundamental level, in a way that went beyond words. That fact was all but screaming at me as I felt around myself with that supernatural sense I possessed. The world around me felt vibrant and alive, and every person I'd seen was a glimmering mote of energy and life. The pokemon though? If my mother or the maids were candles, the pokemon were
bonfires. Every single one of them I'd found, even these tiny little fairies, eclipsed any human I'd met by almost an order of magnitude. Honestly, it was almost painful to look at, even if I wasn't actually "looking", considering that this sense had nothing to do with my eyes. Each and every one of the dozens of flares of life around was so bright and vibrant, so full of life and energy and depth and
layers and colors and…
And honestly, it was all a bit much. It was overwhelming. Without any input from me, my face started to scrunch up a bit in discomfort. Which apparently didn't go unnoticed, because almost immediately I felt a feather-light tapping and rubbing along my face and arms. Looking up, I saw that the original Ribombee had gotten a bit closer, and was staring at my face with a gentle frown. Carefully, it reached into the ruff of fur around its neck and took out a few puffs of the pollen it kept there, and stared trying to spread them along my skin. I was kind of confused on what it was doing, until by chance it happened to brush along the bands around my wrists.
That's when I felt it. Like a bolt of lightning down my spine,
something snapped into place. I could
feel it. I could feel
her. It was all a jumble, a psychedelic kaleidoscope of thoughts and feelings and alien sensations that I couldn't make heads or tails of. A gossamer thin strand of connection, a linking sensation that trailed off in a direction that I could only describe as inward/outward/upward, shooting off into the immediate distance in a direction that didn't exist. At least, didn't exist in three dimensions. Still, despite that sensation of distance, she was still right here, literal sitting on my chest. I could tell she felt something too, there was the vaguest hint of some sort of feedback, like the lingering vibrations of a plucked string. Also, she had gone completely stock still.
Still though, I could feel her. There was so much to her, more than I could possibly fathom even. I felt a bit like I was standing on a cliff looking down at the ocean. Even though the waters were crystal clear, the depths were too far and deep to be seen clearly. Regardless of that though, somethings were still able to float to the surface, like pools of ink dying the waves. Even if I lacked true understanding or context, I was still able to barely discern some small amounts of the broad strokes. Bits of emotion that were only given context by her actions.
She was concerned. Concerned for
me. Ribombee were said to be able sense when people were said or upset, and would often give them their special healing Pollen Puffs to cheer them up. Being so close, she had felt it when I was started to get discomforted by the overwhelming amount of sensations all around be and just wanted to help. There was simple and innocent pureness in her intentions that was almost alien to me. The thought and reaction were understandable enough, but the sensation of the emotion was most definitely outside my experience. It's not that I've never felt generous or altruistic or wanted to help another before, but the way she felt about was totally foreign to me. It was both deep and flat, basic thoughtless and overwhelming. It was less like deciding to be kind, more like
being kindness. It wasn't a want, it was a need, as if altruism were no different than hunger.
Still, despite how alien her viewpoint felt to me, her intentions were real, and kind. She only wanted to help. I was grateful. I couldn't exactly hold a conversation and tell her thank you - still being an infant bereft of speech and all - so I followed a hunch I had. I took my feelings on the matter, fed it within myself in a way that didn't really lend itself well to description, and tried to kind of use my 'Sense' in reverse, if that at all made sense. I was hoping that maybe whatever my sense was, and whatever this vague connection I was currently feeling was, something like this might actually work.
Of course, I was completely incorrect and everything went wrong
spectacularly. The rings of pale glowing flesh around my wrists lit up the brightest I'd ever seen them, flashing for an instant so bright they hurt to look at. From somewhere just within my sternum emerged a strong and swift invisible
pulse of something I could only 'sense' and not see, that washed over everyone and everything in the immediate vicinity. That gossamer thin connection I felt snapped immediately like candy floss in front of a hose. All the little fairy pokemon swarming around me immediately flew off, started by the light and sensation of whatever it was I just did. Even the little lady sitting on my chest was quick to beat feet, though she at least seemed to give a quick trill and wave goodbye over her shoulder.
Which just left me and my mother, who was holding me in front of her and looking at me like it was the first time she was seeing me. She was speaking quietly to me, and indecipherable look on her face. For several seconds afterwards she just held me there in silence, and slowly, her face shifted to a lop-sided grin that I honestly didn't know what to make of. Pulling me close, she placed a soft kiss on my forehead and whispered something in a quiet and awed tone.
Standing up, we quickly left the garden and began to head back towards the house, running into some of the house staff part way there as they come to investigate whatever the disturbance was. Mom spoke a few soft words to them and there was a noticeable ripple of joy and excitement that went through the group. Soon we were inside, and the crowd only grew from there. More and more of the people in the palatial estate came and crowded around my mother as she me, a proud smile on her face. Every single person spoke in hushed and awed tones, reaching out to brush their fingertips against me. Despite all the attention and the dense group of people crowding around, all I could focus on was one man.
My father, leaning on the banister of the floor above us, looking down on us all like a king lording over his fief. And an almost fanged grin on his face, like someone had finally given him the greatest gift he could have ever asked for.
