July 8th, 1984.
A grand gala glittered under the lights of Johto's capital — a charity event organized by Shinku himself.
Despite the Cold War tension simmering between Kanto and Johto, Shinku's purpose for hosting such a gathering was simple: peace. It was his way of building bridges, even between rivals.
That was why families from both sides were invited — the Midori, Natsume, and Hayato from Kanto; the Ibuki, Yanagi, and Mikan among Johto's elite. Even the distinguished Shirona family had arrived all the way from Sinnoh, their reputation and influence impossible to ignore.
Meanwhile, down on the grand hall's marble floor, chaos had already begun.
A blonde-haired girl darted between adults in fine suits, snatching sweets from passing trays and stuffing them gleefully into her mouth. A small Noibat flapped after her in distress — right before another child, a boy with black hair streaked with red, caught up to her.
These two were none other than Kitsu and Ethan.
Ethan wore a small black tuxedo — neat, proper, fitting the tone of an '80s gala.
Kitsu, on the other hand, had once worn a lovely dress... until she'd somehow ripped her skirt. Whether it was by accident or on purpose, no one could say for sure.
It was clear the older twin was desperately trying to rein in the younger one, while their older siblings were busy mingling with the adults upstairs.
On the upper floor of the hall, the adults mingled beneath crystal chandeliers that bathed the room in golden light. The air shimmered with polite laughter, yet beneath every greeting, tension buzzed like a faint electric current.
Shinku Harmonia, host of the night, stood near the center — poised, calm, and unreadable as always. His white suit was immaculate, his crimson tie the only hint of boldness. Beside him stood Erza, ever composed in her dark evening gown, her expression warm but guarded.
"Mr. Shinku," said a sharply dressed man from Kanto's Natsume family, swirling his glass of wine. "Quite the display tonight. I must say, Johto never fails to show… extravagance."
The words carried the weight of mockery beneath the surface.
Shinku smiled faintly. "And Kanto never fails to notice."
A few nearby guests chuckled nervously, the tension cutting sharper for a moment before soft music resumed its flow.
Erza, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with grace. "It's been years since our regions shared a table. If nothing else, this evening should remind us that our borders need not define our civility."
Across the room, Chris Ibuki — towering, proud, and unmistakably Johtonian — stood with his arms crossed, glancing between the groups. "Civility is a fine thing," he rumbled, "but trust is another matter entirely."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Shinku's gaze didn't waver. "Which is exactly why gatherings like this are necessary. If we're to move forward, it begins with conversation — not conflict."
Erza's eyes softened. She leaned slightly toward him, her voice low enough for only Shinku to hear.
"Your peace talks always start the same way," she murmured.
"And end with someone offended," he replied quietly, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
Below, the faint sound of laughter — distinctly Ethan's and Kitsu's — echoed through the hall, catching Erza's ear.
Her expression froze. "...Please tell me that wasn't the dessert table."
Shinku sighed softly, tilting his head. "Peace may take years to achieve. But a ruined cake? That, I fear, will cause war tonight."
Then another man came up to Shinku, unlike the previous Natsume was more compose as seemed to be head.
He wears a Sharp green suit with a back tie, his hair black, and a cleaned shaved face, he wear a smile that was a real smile.
(Yes, this is Sabrina Dad, for people Wondering)
The man's presence was steady, like calm water beneath a storm. Even among the glittering crowd of Johto and Kanto elites, Mr. Natsume drew eyes — not through showmanship, but through quiet authority. The faint psychic shimmer around him spoke of control refined through decades of discipline.
Shinku inclined his head respectfully. "I imagine it must have sounded far-fetched," he said, glancing briefly toward where Crimson Harmonia, his father, was deep in conversation with the elder council. "But this... exchange project was his initiative. I merely made it happen."
Mr. Natsume's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Ah, I see. Still, it's a fascinating idea. The world could use a few less walls between minds — and regions." His gaze softened, and a faint glow pulsed in his eyes. "Your aura hasn't changed, Shinku. Still calm… still guarded."
Shinku chuckled quietly. "And yours, Mr. Natsume, still sees too much."
The older man laughed warmly, then his tone dropped to something almost fatherly. "Tell me, though. Does your boy—Ethan, was it?—know about this arrangement yet?"
Shinku's eyes flickered briefly toward the lower floor, where distant laughter echoed through the marble pillars. "Not yet. He's too young to understand the weight of it. And I'd rather not place that burden on him… not until it's necessary."
Mr. Natsume's expression grew thoughtful. "Understandable. Still, Sabrina could use someone like him—someone who doesn't crumble under her gift. Most children run from her, not toward her."
Shinku's gaze hardened just slightly. "And my son is not most children."
A long pause hung between them. Mr. Natsume's psychic aura dimmed as he gave a small nod. "Then perhaps they'll understand one another better than we think."
From across the room, Erza's voice floated toward them.
"Shinku," she called softly, her tone carefully even. "The Ibuki representative wants to discuss the trade routes again."
Shinku exhaled through his nose. "Of course they do."
Mr. Natsume chuckled again. "Politics never sleeps, does it?"
"Unfortunately," Shinku replied. "Neither does my son."
The two men shared a brief, knowing smile — the kind only fathers could understand.
Meanwhile, on the lower floor of the Gala—
a small girl sat at a table, a faint violet glow surrounding her hands.
She couldn't have been older than eight. Her long black hair framed her pale face, and her crimson eyes glowed faintly with psychic energy. The spoon in front of her twisted and bent into an impossible spiral shape before straightening again with a faint metallic ping.
The act was mechanical, practiced. She didn't smile or frown—she simply existed in that space of eerie calm.
That girl was none other than Sabrina Natsume.
Just as she adjusted her focus to the fork, something suddenly slammed into the back of her chair. The impact nearly knocked her over—until a woman's psychic field caught her mid-fall.
Sabrina blinked, turning to see the chaos behind her.
"Kitsu! Stop eating all the sweets!"
Ethan's voice rang out as he chased after his sugar-obsessed twin.
Kitsu, her mouth full of pastries, skidded past the dessert table, nearly colliding with a waiter and a very unimpressed Slowking.
Sabrina tilted her head, eyes faintly glowing as she stared at the girl being chased. For a brief second—just a fraction—her stoic expression softened.
"...Noisy," she murmured. But for some reason, her telekinetic energy flickered—not from annoyance, but curiosity.
Sabrina's crimson eyes narrowed as she focused on the boy across the room—Ethan.
Something about him… felt different.
Her mother's gentle voice broke through the tension. "Sabrina, don't."
But before she could say another word, the faint hum of psychic energy filled the air. The space where Sabrina stood shimmered with violet light—
and she was gone.
Her mother sighed, rubbing her temple. "Every time we attend a public event…"
Meanwhile—
Kitsu darted between tables, crumbs of cake trailing behind her like confetti.
Ethan chased close behind, Noibat flapping wildly to keep up, trying to stop her sugar-fueled rampage. "Kitsu, stop—! You're gonna crash into—"
WHAM!
A flash of light appeared right in front of them.
Too late to react—Ethan, Kitsu, and Noibat collided headfirst into a newly appeared figure.
They all went sprawling across the polished floor, drawing gasps and murmurs from nearby guests.
Sabrina stood there, completely unbothered by the impact, dusting off her dress as her red eyes flicked down to the twins. "You disrupted me," she said flatly, her tone calm yet sharp enough to cut glass.
Kitsu blinked up from the floor, still holding a pastry. "Ow… who put a person in the middle of the floor?"
Noibat groaned softly, its wings twitching. Ethan just sighed, realizing what happened. "...Psychic teleportation," he muttered. "Great. Just what we needed."
Before the tension could get any weirder, another flicker of light pulsed nearby — this time not from psychic energy, but from a Dragonite's flash-step teleport.
Erza and Shinku appeared, both looking absolutely done. Mrs. Natsume sighed, rubbing her temple. "I'm so sorry about this, my daughter has a… habit of 'checking' people she finds interesting."
Erza smiled politely, though there was a faint twitch at the corner of her eye. "It's alright. Kitsu and Ethan are usually the ones causing chaos, so this makes for a nice change."
Kitsu pointed dramatically. "Hey! She started it!"
"Did not," Sabrina replied flatly.
"You teleported at me like a boss fight!"
"…That's your problem," Sabrina said with a shrug.
The adults chuckled awkwardly while trying to untangle the situation, but Ethan wasn't paying attention anymore. His mind was busy doing desperate arithmetic like a man trying to prove he wasn't insane.
'Okay… if I was reborn in 1981, that means by the time I met Sabrina in my first life, she was about 24 when I was 11—so she should've been 13 back then… which means…'
His eyes twitched.
"She's eight right now… and Whitney was five when I meet her... which means—OH ARCEUS I WAS BORN IN 1971 THIS TIME!?"
He grabbed his head, silently spiraling while everyone else talked around him.
Kitsu tilted her head, noticing his blank stare. "Ethan? You good?"
Ethan forced the fakest smile imaginable. "Yep. Just realizing I'm technically older than half the Kanto region right now. Totally fine. Not having a crisis."
Mrs. Natsume blinked. "…Is he alright?"
Erza sighed. "Oh, that's just his 'thinking too much about time' face. He'll be fine in a few minutes."
Shinku pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to sigh for the fifth time that night. "Well, since we're already in the middle of this… why don't you kids introduce yourselves properly?"
Kitsu wrinkled her nose like she'd just been told to eat raw Pecha berries. Formal introductions were boring.
Sabrina, however, straightened with flawless posture, her red eyes still unnervingly calm. "Pleasure to meet you. I am Sabrina Natsume, heir to the Natsume family." She bowed politely — not too shallow, not too deep, perfectly mechanical.
Ethan blinked at the display before awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah… nice to meet you too. I'm Ethan Hermonia, and, uh—" he hesitated, glancing toward his parents before blurting out, "—the only son in a house full of six sisters."
That earned a wave of chuckles from the surrounding guests. Shinku and Erza exchanged the same weary expression parents get when they've given up on damage control.
Kitsu crossed her arms, unimpressed. "I'm Kisumi Hermonia," she said, with the casual confidence of someone who didn't care for titles. "But everyone just calls me Kitsu."
She jabbed a thumb toward her brother. "I'm his twin. The smarter twin."
Ethan groaned. "You tripped into a candy fountain fifteen minutes ago!"
Sabrina just blinked slowly, clearly unsure how to process this level of chaos. "You two are… loud," she said flatly.
Kitsu smirked. "And you're stiff."
Erza clapped her hands lightly before the tension could rise again. "Alright, that's enough introductions for one night."
Sabrina's mother chuckled behind her fan. "Well, they certainly have spirit. Perhaps that's not such a bad match after all."
Both Ethan and Kitsu froze. "Wait, what match!?" they yelled in unison.
Shinku coughed into his fist. "Don't worry about it, kids. Just… enjoy the party."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "I don't like that tone, Dad."
The Adults' Table, Later That Evening
The low hum of chatter filled the private lounge overlooking the ballroom. The older generation sat at a long mahogany table — crystal glasses in hand, polished manners in place — but tension buzzed beneath the civility.
Shinku leaned back in his chair, giving Mr. Natsume a patient look. "You could've at least warned me before your wife blurted it out."
Mr. Natsume chuckled softly, swirling his wine. "My dear Shinku, I didn't plan that. But, to be fair, it's hardly a secret anymore, especially with her around."
Across the table, Mrs. Natsume sighed into her teacup. "You try keeping secrets from a child who reads minds before she can tie her shoes."
Erza stifled a laugh, her multicolored hair catching the light. "So she knows about the arrangement already?"
"She's known for months," Mrs. Natsume replied wearily. "I told her to keep it to herself. She said she would — and then immediately told me that lying creates bad psychic feedback."
Crimson, seated beside them, let out a booming laugh. "Ah, that's the Natsume bloodline for you. No filter, but at least honest!"
Shinku rubbed his temples. "Arceus help me… my son barely understands what taxes are. He thinks 'marriage' means getting a Pokémon license together."
Erza covered her mouth, trying not to giggle. "He did ask me yesterday if you and I were 'double partners' because we both feed the same Pokémon."
Mr. Natsume grinned knowingly. "That's endearing. Still, I must admit — your boy's energy is interesting. My wife said Sabrina's psychic senses reacted to him. Something… draconic?"
Shinku's eyes flicked up for a moment. "You could say that. Let's just call it a family trait and leave it there."
Mrs. Natsume raised a brow. "You mean the Hermonia family trait or the 'my son accidentally glows purple sometimes' trait?"
Shinku froze mid-sip. "...You've been talking to Violet, haven't you."
Mrs. Natsume smiled. "Sabrina's been listening to Violet, actually."
Across the room, a faint psychic giggle echoed in everyone's minds — Sabrina's, distant but unmistakably smug.
Erza sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Wonderful. So she's already halfway through planning their wedding and he still thinks 'fiancée' is a type of dessert."
Crimson raised his glass. "To young love — and political headaches!"
To be continued
Hope people like this ch and give me power stones and enjoy