John's Point of View
So... today's my birthday.
Two years old. In Terra, that's apparently a big deal. Back on Earth, I'd still be learning how to speak full sentences and barely toddling around without falling on my face. But here? Well... let's just say things are a little different.
In the last five months, my body's gone through what my sassy system kindly called a "natural Terran growth spurt." Which, translated from system-speak, means: Congratulations, kid! You're now the size of a five-year-old human despite being barely past diapers. Not that I wore those anymore—thank Arceus.
Honestly, if I didn't already have the system's info dump, I probably would've freaked out waking up with longer limbs, a sharper face, and hair that kept falling into my eyes. Thankfully, I knew this was normal for gifted children like me—especially ones connected to Verdant Spirit.
Speaking of that blessing...
Yeah. I've been experimenting. Quietly. Carefully. Sort of.
Look, before you freak out—I wasn't doing anything stupid. Just... mild self-inflicted scratches. Little ones. Nothing deep. Mostly so I could test how my healing worked. Turns out? It's amazing. The wounds would seal themselves within seconds, glowing with this vibrant green light, almost like nature itself was weaving me back together.
No pain, either. Which was weird at first, but not unpleasant. I don't know if that's part of the blessing or something else, but it made the experiments a lot easier. The only real downside? Energy drain. After each session, I'd be winded. Like, "collapse face-first into the grass" winded.
I've got a theory, though. Once I start proper training—real physical work, maybe some aura stuff like I saw in that Lucario movie—I'll be able to increase my stamina. And maybe once I bond with my first Pokémon, the Verdant Spirit will sync better with them and heal faster. It's just a theory, but I've been logging everything mentally. Observing. Testing.
That's what I've been doing for the past five months.
Oh, and also...
Playing with Mama.
That's probably the most important part. Even if I didn't understand the reason, I noticed something changed in her back then. Five months ago, it was like someone flipped a switch. Mama went from warm and kind... to overflowing with joy. She smiled more. She hummed more. She cooked extra meals even when we didn't need them. She kept checking the calendar like she was counting the days to something.
Naturally, I asked her.
"Mama, why are you so happy all the time lately?"
She just winked at me and said, "It's a secret. But it's part of your birthday gift."
I swear, sometimes she can be so childish.
And I'm the literal child here.
Anyway, I didn't press her after that. She seemed... lighter, freer, like something that had been hurting inside her was finally healing. I didn't know what, and I still don't. But honestly? As long as she's smiling like that, I'm not going to ruin it by poking around.
Besides, I had my own secrets to worry about.
Like the baby monitor.
Yeah. That was a fun discovery.
Turns out, I wasn't quite as sneaky with my nighttime meditations as I thought. I'd been slipping out of bed late at night, sitting quietly by the window, and focusing inward—channeling the energy, letting Verdant Spirit wash through me like a quiet river.
But a week after I started, Mama walked into my room while I was mid-meditation. At first, I panicked—froze up like a Deerling in headlights. Then she smiled. Not scolded, not confused. Smiled. And took a picture.
I was still trying to figure out how she knew when I noticed the baby monitor on the dresser—its little red light blinking at me like it had been mocking me the whole time. I'd forgotten it even existed.
Well played, Mama.
After that, I just did it in front of her. She'd ask questions—so many questions—and even recorded one of my sessions. I'm pretty sure that video is over an hour long, and I'm very sure she's shown it to someone.
She thought I started meditating because of the Lucario movie we watched together.
And... well... yeah, I kinda ran with it.
"Yes, Mama," I said in my best innocent voice, "Lucario looked really cool, and it helps me sleep better. And I feel really happy afterward."
Which, technically, wasn't a lie.
She hugged me so tight after that I could barely breathe. Called me her "little aura guardian" and kissed my forehead like a thousand times.
So yeah. I kept meditating.
It made her happy.
And today? Today is finally the day.
The day she promised to show me her Pokémon. I've never seen them. Not even once. She keeps them hidden away in their Poké Balls. No names. No hints. No sneak peeks. It's been driving me crazy.
But now? It's time.
Or... it will be. After I get out of bed.
Which... might take a moment.
My room is warm and cozy, the curtains just barely letting in the morning light. My blankets are a soft sea of blue and cream, my plushies are all in their designated spots, and I've been awake for ten minutes pretending I'm still asleep just to enjoy the peace.
Then—
BANG!
The door flew open.
"Wake up, birthday boy!" came the familiar sing-song voice of my mother, loud and giddy.
I groaned, pulling the covers over my head.
She bounded into the room like a Pidgeot on caffeine, clearly bursting with energy. I felt the bed dip slightly as she sat beside me, then a pair of warm hands tugged the blanket down enough to reveal my face.
"There you are!" she beamed. "You really thought you could sleep in today?"
"I was meditating..." I mumbled.
"Nice try," she teased, brushing my hair out of my eyes. "You can meditate later. Right now, it's birthday time."
Her smile was glowing. Almost... blinding. I squinted up at her.
"Are you always going to be this dramatic on my birthdays?"
"I'm your mother. It's in the job description."
I couldn't help it—I laughed.
"Now come on," she said, standing up and spinning on her heel. "Get dressed, brush your teeth, and meet me outside. It's time to meet your very first Pokémon."
My heart skipped.
This was it.
Today wasn't just my birthday—it was the beginning.
The start of something new.
I didn't know what her Pokémon looked like. I didn't know their names, their species, or anything about them. All I knew was that Mama loved them—and they were strong.
And now?
They were going to be part of my world too.
I climbed out of bed, heart pounding.
Let's see what the future has in store for me.
Anyway
Getting dressed was a blur.
My fingers fumbled with the buttons of my shirt more than I'd like to admit, and I may have accidentally brushed my teeth for five straight minutes because my brain was moving faster than my body. The second I was ready, I dashed to the living room—only to come to a screeching halt when I saw Mama standing in front of her closet.
She had something in her hands.
It was a wide leather belt—sturdy, well-worn, and shaped to curve around her hip. But what really drew my attention were the six red-and-white orbs clipped to the loops. Real Poké Balls.
The first real ones I'd ever seen in this life.
Sure, I'd seen Poké Balls during movie night. There was that scene in The Heart of a Trainer where the main character tossed a black-and-yellow ball to save their injured Tyranitar. I played it cool, said "Oh wow, what's that?" like I wasn't internally geeking out.
But this? This was different.
This wasn't a screen. This was real.
Mama caught me staring and smiled knowingly.
"These," she said, holding the belt up, "are Poké Balls. Each one holds a Pokémon—well, they can hold a Pokémon, anyway. Mine are empty right now because I don't like keeping my partners cooped up all day. They're outside, where they can stretch and play."
I stepped closer, eyes wide as I reached toward one. My fingers hovered just above the cool surface of the nearest sphere.
"May I...?"
She nodded, and I gently touched the smooth surface. It felt lighter than I expected. Sleek. It hummed softly, like it knew what it was meant for.
"Poké Balls come in all kinds," she explained, slipping the belt over her waist with practiced ease. "Quick Balls, Dusk Balls, Luxury Balls, Net Balls, Heal Balls... they all serve different purposes—better odds, healing effects, special comfort features—but at the end of the day, they all do one thing: safely store a Pokémon."
I nodded, absorbing every word like a sponge. I already knew the basics, sure. But hearing it from her, seeing her with them, gave it weight. Purpose.
She continued, walking toward the front door.
"Usually, a Trainer has a team of six Pokémon at a time. It's the standard limit for competitive balance in the League. But," she added, glancing back at me with a small smirk, "you're not required to only have six. You can have as many Pokémon with you as you want—as long as you care for them properly. Love, attention, health... those are what matter most."
I followed her out into the hallway and through the main door.
Sunlight flooded over us.
Our house sat near the edge of a wide, open clearing—tall trees surrounded the land like protective arms, their branches whispering in the breeze. The grass was soft beneath my bare feet, and a few flowers peeked through the soil in yellow and violet patches. Birds chirped lazily in the distance.
But strangely... the clearing was empty.
No Pokémon.
I looked around, puzzled.
"Mama?"
She gave a little laugh and bent down so we were face to face.
"They'll come in a minute," she said gently. "I asked them to give us a moment first. I wanted to talk to you before you meet them."
She rested her hands on my shoulders. Her expression was softer now. Calmer.
"John... these Pokémon aren't just strong. They're not just creatures I caught or trained. They're my partners. My family. I've had most of them since before you were born. They've fought with me, cried with me, and stood by me when I had no one else."
Her eyes shimmered with something—memories, I guessed. Old ones. Heavy ones.
"I want you to meet them because you're part of my world now. Our world. But some of them might look... intense. Or intimidating. They might roar or stomp or just be really big. But they're kind. And they're loyal."
She reached out and cupped my cheek with one hand.
"So I need you to be brave. Not just for yourself. For me. Can you do that, birthday boy?"
I swallowed hard. My chest felt tight, but not from fear—more like pressure. The good kind. The kind that pushes you forward.
"I can be brave," I said softly. "For you."
Her smile lit up like the sun.
"Good. Because they've been dying to meet you."
Then she stood tall, her presence shifting—commanding but graceful—and raised her voice just enough for the clearing to hear.
"Alright, everyone. Come on out."
I didn't know what I expected.
Maybe one Pokémon walking calmly from the trees.
Instead...
The forest moved.
Branches rustled. Leaves trembled. The wind carried a pulse of energy—almost like a tremor through the air. I felt it in my bones, that subtle shift that whispered: They're coming.
And I was ready.
Well...
Almost.
But one thing was for sure.
My life was about to change—again.
And this time, I wasn't just watching from the window.
I was stepping into the world of Pokémon.