Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Contrary to what popular media might want you to believe, getting transported from one world to the next doesn’t require summonings or heroic deaths or vehicular manslaughter by an I*uzu brand truck.

Mine was uneventful – I was absentmindedly walking up the stairs of my university after a late-night class and looking down at my phone.

Now think back to every time you’ve been on the stairs: you walk up the steps and feel like you haven't quite reached the top yet, you will always hoist your leg up a bit higher just to make sure you won't tumble. But lo and behold, you had already reached the top. The phantom step is always followed by a feeling of confusion and a sense of disappointment.

And that’s how I slipped into the world of Pokémon.

（╯°□°）╯︵◓

Mornings are the same wherever you are: slow, quiet, and desperately trying to get your wits around you. I stood in front of the sink in a daze, toothbrush slowly dragging across enamel and gum as I rubbed my eyes with my free hand. I can already smell eggs wafting up from the kitchen and the soft clinking of pans and dishes, and that alone is great motivation to get down as quickly as I can before my brother can shovel in as much as he can “just because.”

I hopped off of the cute Tympole-patterned stool, nudging it back under the sink with my toe, before running as fast as I could down the hall towards the stairs. I’m much slower than I would like to be, and my short limbs do not contribute well to an efficient stride (and if my memories serve me right, I’ll hit an unprecedented growth spurt at 11 and stop growing after that). My Mareep-themed socks have little rubber designs on the bottom that allow for grip, saving me from slipping and falling on sleek wooden floorboards.

I basically bounced down into the kitchen and slid into my seat, chirping out a good morning before jamming my fingers into the rubbery rings of my training chopsticks, the arms of the Whimsicott perched on the hinge rising cheerily as I lunged to pick up a particularly crispy piece of bacon before my brother’s fork could stab it.

“Hey!” My brother protested. He turned to whine to the supreme overlord of the house, “Mom, Elara took the piece that I wanted!”

Without missing a beat or turning around from the stove, she replied, “You’ve had more than half of what I made this morning, Haru. Let Yuzuki have a piece.” Chimecho, who was currently attached to the underside of a cabinet, swayed a little harder in response and cried out in greeting to me. I waved at him while looking Reid dead in the eyes, slowly chewing. I made a show of swallowing the bacon before grinning broadly at my glutton of a brother.

“Good morning, Reid,” I smiled. It was less of a grin and more like a baring of teeth. Every morning, I had to fight against my brother if I wanted to eat what I wanted to. Of course, our mom didn’t let us leave the house without a full belly, but being full on Tropius berries and Miltank milk alone was a far cry from the satisfaction of that and eating as many Chansey eggs and Lechonk bacon you could fit in a child’s stomach.

“Morning.” He had no choice but to grumble back. Mama didn’t raise no rude child, and he knew that he would hear no end of it from her if he kept this behavior.

Reid was my older brother of two years and already had a Pokémon partner of his own, a rather chivalrous Sawk who had never strayed far from my brother’s side after hatching on a family vacation to Undella Town. Sawk was probably in the backyard somewhere practicing his kicks if he wasn’t seated next to my brother – hopefully he managed to eat before putting himself through his paces.

“Haru and Yuzuki, you have to leave soon if you don’t want to be late for school,” Mom said, finishing up our bentos by wrapping them in pink and blue furoshiki. I had nearly come to blows with Reid in the supermarket after he teased me for being a baby when I chose the Sylveon-themed cloth. I was a baby, damn it, small and cute and only four years old, and if I wanted a pink furoshiki, I would use a pink furoshiki! Though I had to reluctantly admit that his own Sharpedo-themed furoshiki was cool, too…

Four years ago, I was born in Castelia City to two immigrants from Sinnoh, but it was only this year that I remembered my past life. Managing to isekai by slipping from walking up the stairs – how dumb is that? I don’t have any inkling of why I was picked of all people, nor did I have Legendary Pokémon whispering in my ear about prophecies and destinies. It honestly seemed like a mistake on a cosmic scale, but who was I to question the whims of the Creator Pokémon?

Admittedly, I was inconsolable for a bit, but my family really helped me get over it. I was starting to suspect that I had slipped into a world that was less of an alternative universe than it was a parallel universe – my family was the same in every aspect that they could be (career, personality, mannerisms), and the glaring differences were translated into equivalents in the Pokémon world. I also didn’t have a violent death or anything that wrenched me away from what I knew and loved, so it was easier to adapt, even though I missed modern Earth pleasures like mindless social media scrolling and truly unhealthy fast food.

But even in the absence of it all, the biggest thing that helped me was the presence of Pokémon. When my parents immigrated from Veilstone City to Castelia City, they brought along their Pokémon. Mom brought her Chimecho and Gardevoir, and Dad brought his Garchomp and got his Klink from his new job, which later evolved into Klinklang.

Apparently, there were concerns from immigration officials about Garchomp, especially since he’s a behemoth for his species, and they didn’t know if he would get along with other Pokémon from the Unova region, especially the notoriously territorial Haxorus line. However, Garchomp was hand-reared by Dad from the egg, which did some fascinating things to his personality, so that he was less aggressive and territorial than average. After some strict review of Garchomp’s interaction with humans and other Pokémon, my parents were finally allowed to settle in Castelia City.

My dad works as a materials science engineer for a mid-sized firm in Castelia City, though he’s seriously considering accepting the senior position in the larger parent firm. He leaves early with Garchomp and Klinklang in the morning, before Reid or I are awake, but always returns just as the sun is starting to dip below the horizon.

Garchomp is about as gentle as he looks ferocious, which might have brought me to tears a couple of times as a baby, but I managed to get over that as soon as I could string together a coherent thought. At work, he joins my dad on field visits to projects or lounges in the sun in his office. At home, he patiently allows me to clamber over his entire bulk, though I’m careful not to injure myself on his Rough Skin. I mean, come on, who doesn’t love the iconic Dragon? 

Klinklang is as introverted as a bunch of sentient gears can be, which is surprisingly a lot. It’s more of a living tool than a companion Pokémon, as it helps dad with the more physical aspects of his work. But even still, it’s a part of our family, if a bit quieter and more in the background than anything. At home, Klingklang’s metallic sounds and whirs are a quiet backdrop during the weekends as it chooses to either slowly hover around the house or join my dad in the shed.

Mom’s Pokémon were less of a concern for immigration officials, as her Pokémon were demonstrated aides for her work as a musician and a music teacher. Chimecho was her first partner as a Chingling, the Bell Pokémon evolving into the Wind Chime Pokémon as she was finishing up her time at the conservatory. One of my earliest memories was of Chimecho attached to the mobile dangling above me, which really set the tone (heh, tone) for our relationship. He’s either attached to some sort of horizontal surface that’s kind of high up or floating around Mom, chiming as his species is wont to do.

Gardevoir, on the other hand, is the only Pokémon in our household that’s been “caught.” Mom captured her as a Kirlia near Pastoria City after fighting off some unusually aggressive Bibarel that were ganging up on her with Chimecho. After she had been healed to full health by the local Pokécenter, Mom gave her the option to return to the wild, but Kirlia chose to stay by Mom’s side. Gardevoir often helps Mom around the house with chores, and apparently was a big help during my and Reid’s infancy as she sensed our moods long before we could erupt into upset wails. She’s a great help with Mom’s younger students with that same kind of motherly watchfulness.

My brother was born about one year after they immigrated to Castelia City, and our parents decided to name him Reid Haru, though he goes by Reid with his friends and in school, and only our parents and extended family call him Haru. Mom managed to get a Sawk egg for Reid’s fourth birthday from one of her students’ parents, who was a former trainer under the newest Elite Four Marshal. As such, Reid’s Sawk ended up being just a bit stronger than other members of his species.

But recently, Reid’s been talking about how he wants to become a nurse, and I can’t help but imagine an older, burlier version of my brother and Sawk holding down a yowling Purrloin to help it. It’s likely that if he ends up attending nurse school, the Pokémon League of Unova will give him an Audino for a partner. And even if he ragged on me for my pink Sylveon-themed furoshiki, he’s slowly shedding that stupid concept of “pink is for girls.”

I was born two and a half years after my brother in Castelia General Hospital, and my parents named me Elara Yuzuki. I’ve got one year before I graduate from preschool, and I’ve been seriously thinking of reinventing myself as “Elara” instead of “Ellie” – there’s a surprising number of four-year-olds who struggle with differentiating their Ls and Rs. I also have something else to look forward to: a Pokémon partner of my very own!

Every day, it seems like a classmate of mine is crowing about their new Cottonee or Lillipup or whatever. And my parents have been super stealthy, dodging my questions and pleas and just smiling that grin all parents have when they know something good is coming, but they won’t tell their child.

Ugh!

I threw back my head to gulp down the last of that tasty, tasty Miltank milk, scrubbing my mouth with the napkin Gardevoir placed down next to my plate. I gave her a thumbs up and scrambled to race upstairs again to the bathroom, hurriedly rinsing and gargling one more time. My mom was already waiting in my room to help me button up my powder blue preschool uniform and plait my hair into two neat braids. I once again rushed out of my room, slamming my bright yellow cap onto my head, but my short legs are no match for my mom’s longer stride.

Reid was already at the door, carefully tying his shoes. As a first grader, he gets the privilege of wearing his own clothes to school, though he, too, has to wear the bright yellow cap that all elementary schoolers have to wear while going to and from school. Sawk is holding our backpacks with one hand near the door, and he gives me a friendly wave. He’s not at his adult height yet, so he’s about the same height as my brother at 120 centimeters. Even still, he’s leagues stronger and sturdier than my brother and I could ever be, even combined.

I slid my feet into my Velcro shoes and slung my bag over my shoulders, allowing my mom to fuss over me and Reid before we leave. We held hands and leave our home, one of the many rowhouses in the neighborhoods of Castelia City.

“Bye Mom!”
“Bye bye!”
“Sawk!”

And so we trudged on to school as fast and as safely as we can. Just another day in the life of a transmigrated?isekai’d?reincarnated? girl!

Chapter Text

School was boring as usual, even if my classmates brought along their own Pokémon partners (equally as bright-eyed and excitable as their trainers) or elderly family Pokémon who accompanied the youngest members of their households.

I was leaning up against a particularly elderly Stoutland, the gentle dog’s fur speckled with gray and starting to get that “sugar dipped” face universal to elderly dogs everywhere. I idly scratched his side, wondering if this rule also applied to Entei… I couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of an elderly-looking Legendary, probably looking a little stupid to our teacher. But Ms. Lilah was too nice to judge her class on bouts of random laughter or facial expressions. If this weren’t the Pokémon world, I would definitely wonder what her substance of choice was to allow her to keep up her levels of energy while teaching a preschool class, but she probably ran on nothing but good thoughts and the joy of seeing small children laughing and playing with Pokémon.

Preschool in Unova was pretty much everything that I expected – naps, chunky crayons during arts and crafts, a healthy amount of time rooting around in the dirt – with the addition of instilling love, respect, and care for Pokémon. It was actually kind of surprising how much time was dedicated to the specialized care of Pokémon, and Ms. Lilah did a fantastic job of tailoring the lessons to match the typings of new Pokémon partners that my classmates brought in by the week.

We had just finished learning how to care for small Rock Pokémon, and a beaming Will made laps at each table, pointing at and boasting at his newly-polished Roggenrola perched at the front of the room because enthusiasm couldn’t make up for the muscle strength needed for a preschooler to cart around 40 pounds. To his credit, his new Roggenrola (un?fortunately named “Rollie”) seemed as enamored with Ms. Lilah’s care as he was with his new trainer.

As this was something that neither the anime nor games taught me, I was taking to our care lessons like a Ducklett to water. To date, I now know how to do rudimentary care for small avian Flying Pokémon, small rodent Normal Pokémon, small canine Normal Pokémon, small rodent Electric Pokémon, small bipedal Water Pokémon, and small Rock Pokémon. Yeah… We didn’t get much variety of Pokémon in Castelia City Happy Smiles Preschool.

But still!!! Specialized care for real Pokémon…! I would happily memorize what products to look out for and how to spot physical signs of poor health any day of the week! I had already started a small list of what products and tools I would use on my own Pokémon.

Bah, mom and dad might be dodging every and any question I had about my own Pokémon, but I was four, not stupid. Based on how Reid got Sawk from one of Mom’s students’ parents, I had a sense that my partner would be coming from another parent’s Pokémon or from one of my parents’ friends. So, I had taken up interviewing them as soon as I could catch a moment of their time. It wasn’t a very long list, but at least I definitely knew which Pokémon in my vicinity were willing to give their egg to a youngster like me. To date, I have had on my list Mienshao, Stoutland, Braviary, Pikachu, and Musharna. I have about ₽2200 in my Tepig bank, and a lot of brushes cost anywhere from ₽1000 to ₽2000, so I probably have enough for most types.

Ms. Lilah clapped her hands once, twice, and we Mime Jr.’d back, clapping once, twice before falling silent.

“Okay, class, it’s time to move on to Math! Please take out your notebooks…”

（╯°□°）╯︵◓

“I’m home!”

It wasn’t unusual for the house to be empty at this time of day – Dad wasn’t back yet with Garchomp or Klinklang, Mom was probably out in her piano studio still teaching, and Reid was likely to be still traipsing home with Sawk or out on a soccer field somewhere.

I took off my shoes before putting them away neatly in our shoe shelf, the Swirlix on the toes of the pink and sparkling silver sneakers winking merrily at me. I trudged in, taking off my backpack at the couch and groaning like a fifty-year-old salaryman at the end of a long day instead of a four-year-old preschooler coming home with maybe two pieces of paper (one of which may be crumpled at the bottom of the bag) and an empty bento.

It took longer than I wanted for me to change out of my outside clothes into my inside clothes:

I dragged my feet to the kitchen, opening the fridge and contemplating its insides before it started beeping angrily at me. I closed it, waited a second, and then did it again. I was hungry… Oh! I took my kitchen step stool from under the sink and folded it open in front of the fridge, my socked feet stepping up on the face of a grinning Munchlax. I threw my arms up in victory before reaching my hands to pick up a container of ham and cheese rollups and a plate of peeled and sliced Pecha Berries.

I set those on the counter before kicking the stool over to the sink so I could wash my hands before I ate the delectable treats. I hummed merrily. What should I watch on TV today? So many choices, so little time before Reid comes stomping in and takes the remote to watch what he wants. I, for one, could only watch so many episodes of Zubatman and Fletchling before I would instead listen to Dad droning about what he did at work today… I might love him, but not enough to listen to a step-by-step replay of who he talked to, what he ate, who honked at him in traffic today…

I cradled the tupperware to my chest and held the plate carefully with the other as I walked to the living room. I set the two precious vessels of sustenance on the coffee table and turned on the TV. Let’s see…

“...Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! It's time for “Moves for Living.” Today we will learn about the move Dazzling Gleam…”

Skip. I probably know enough of the move that they should be inviting me to the studio.

“OSSU, everybody! Are you so GENKI it’s causing everyone else trouble? It’s time for this week’s highly anticipated “KOUKAN TALK”!”

Skip. I enough practice from speaking at home and from visiting Obaa-chan in Hearthome City every summer…

“Unova Afternoon News with Lestar Holdt: Next up, we have news of recent developments in Nimbasa City…”

Oh, this is my shit… I love watching the news unironically, which threw my parents for a loop when me in toddlerhood would cry if the channel changing from the news to some brainrot cartoon. I sunk my teeth into the Pecha slice as I stared, eyes riveted to the screen. Hey, an uninformed citizen is a susceptible citizen, so you best believe that I watch the news as much as I can!

Also… I still don’t know where I am timeline wise… I can for sure say that I’m nowhere near Black and White 1 or 2 because there’s no news coverage of or the presence of Team Plasma right now but at least some number of years before the beginning of them because Alder is still the champion. So, newswatching it is, until I can reasonably figure out what timeline I’ve been deposited in as well as if I’m in the anime, games, or some mishmash of the two.

“...City Police have not yet commented on the issue yet, but we will continue to keep a close watch on this story as it develops…”

（╯°□°）╯︵◓

“School was okay… Me and Sawk won our soccer match, but we all had to apologize to an old lady walking by because Kurt on the other team kicked the ball too close to her walker,” Reid said as he moved his broccoli around his plate with his fork.

“Sawk. Sawk, sawk.” Sawk folded his arms across his chest, as if saying that he also thought that it was kind of an absurd moment.

“Haru, maybe next time you can play a little more carefully. What if she actually got hit?” Dad said as he slipped a spoon of pie to a gently rumbling Garchomp – no dessert until the plate was cleared, and Reid still had a long way to go before finishing his greens.

“And speaking of unexpected things, Elara Yuzuki? Do you want to come into the living room?”

I paused mid-chew before slowly nodding. I didn’t do anything bad recently, so there was no reason for me to be called out like this at the dinner table????? Was there a reason to whip out my full name????? But I got up and followed Mom anyways. Reid was trying hard to keep a grin off of his ugly face, and I hit him with some nasty side eye. He grinned even harder and even grabbed Sawk to follow us to get his dose of schadenfreude.

If I dragged it out a little bit… I won’t get scolded as soon, right? But it seemed like Mom was holding a covered basket? Instead of her hands on her hips?

“Yuzu-chan, I know you’ve been asking for a long time now for a partner of your own,” she began.

No. Way.

“Dad actually brought this home for you – a group of our field engineers went out to check on one of our sites, and we had to relocate a migratory flock off the scaffolding and frames, and they actually found this egg left behind. The rangers told us to wait for a little to see if the parents were coming back, but it’s been about a week and the Center said it’s bound to hatch soon, so we were thinking –” Dad followed with.

“My first!!!! Pokémon???????” I rushed at Mom, hands fluttering around the covered basket that held what was to be the most precious thing I would ever see in either life, I was sure.

“That’s right! Do you want to take off the cover?” Mom whispered.

I reached out, my hands shaking. I gasped. It was cream and speckled with green – the most perfect, beautiful Pokémon egg I had ever seen with my eyes in this life and through pixels. It was shaking ever so slightly, as if responding to my own excitement with its own.

“I haven’t met you yet, but I love you already,” I breathed out, hand gently laid on the glass of the incubator.

“I’m Elara Yuzuki, and I’ll be your trainer, if you’ll have me. I’ll love you, take care of you, and make so many happy memories with you that you’ll have no more space for anything else in your brain. It’ll be okay if you don’t want to battle – and if you do, I’ll make sure that we’re the strongest in the world! – and we’ll do everything together –”

“Yuzuki, congratulations!” Reid cheered, cheeks flush and jumping around the room. We held hands and screamed (for what, I don’t know, but we needed to scream) and jumped together.

“My first Pokémon! My first Pokémon!”

“My sister has a Pokémon! My sister has a Pokémon!”

“Sawk! Sawk!”

The living room quickly devolved into cheers and laughter, and I hoped that my Pokémon partner, whoever they were, heard and knew how happy we already were to welcome them into the world.

Chapter Text

I slid my Castelia City Public Library card across the desk, along with the thick book Avian Pokémon of the World: The Visual Guide to more than 100 Species. It was a struggle to haul it from the encyclopedia section, which was tucked away in the furthest corner of the library from the librarian’s desk for some reason.

“Just this, please!” The librarian looked down at me while scanning the barcode on the back and slotting in the receipt that noted the dates and times of checkout and return.

“You sure you don’t want to become a Professor, sugar? Why, at the rate you’re devouring these books, you might be the next Flying-type specialist!”

“Not at all, ma’am – I just want the best for my partner!” I took the book back from her, carefully putting it in a tote bag and then laying it down gingerly in my red wagon. Luckily, the library was only a short 20-minute walk from my neighborhood.

I didn’t know if it was the presence of Pokémon or some other influence from the Powers That Be, but there was this general sense of whimsy and joy everywhere. Hell, even “criminal” organizations like Team Rocket out in Indigo were at worst poaching and breaking and entering – human trafficking and drugs perhaps existed only in the depths of my otherworldly mind. Even wild Pokémon were likely to injure and flee rather than straight-up vaporizing intruders or rivals!

Society, therefore, felt pretty secure in sending out eleven-year-olds on their Journeys with little supervision. So naturally, that meant that I, as a four-year-old, was allowed to walk down the streets of a bustling cosmopolitan city with no supervision every afternoon. The only exception was that I came home before sunset because Mom thought that I would lose my way in the dark.

“Best Wishes: I’m sure you’ll be back as soon as you finish this!”

“Best Wishes!” I rolled out of the library with my book-laden wagon, the wheels clunking cheerfully across the textured surface of the sidewalk.

These past couple of days, I have been hauling booty to the library to read as much as I could about the care and biology of avian Pokémon. I think I narrowed down the list of what my partner would hatch into by narrowing down the areas of migration, as well as the timelines for breeding and egg laying. At the moment, the top contenders for “Most Likely to Hatch Into” were the Taillow line, the Fletchling line, and the Togepi line. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much to go off of the appearance of the egg itself – all Pokémon eggs seemed to share the green and white patterns from the games.

But it didn’t matter! Guessing was fun, but I wouldn’t change my partner for anything.

I sped up as much as I could with these short legs. I needed to do my homework, too, and I had already spent too much time as it was in the library today.

（╯°□°）╯︵◓

“...And then, I asked Ms. Lilah if we could review the care for small Flying types after class today because I’m going to take the best care of you. Obviously, once you hatch, we’ll go so many places! And we’re going to be the best duo in this family because you’re going to be a Flying type and, obviously, Flying beats Fighting, so we’ll be way better than Reid. Sawk’s cool – I don’t think we need to give him the same amount of attention that Reid does. But Reid’s not bad; he’s just a boy. And a brother. And stinky. And sweaty.” I chattered to the egg, which was resting in the basket. It wiggled vigorously, as if in agreement.

When Dad was transferred the custody of the egg from the Ranger’s field office, he was told by the attending Nurse that the egg was bound to hatch within one to two weeks and had safely stabilized enough that it didn’t need to be in an incubator 24/7 anymore.

Any day could be the day that we first locked eyes, and my whole family also wanted to be there. So, the egg was placed in the living room, and I didn’t even separate from it at night. The only time I wasn’t with it was when I was at school, but preschool was only 6 hours a day, and I was quick at running back home to make sure that I didn’t lose any time dilly-dallying.

I had taken to the habit of talking incessantly to the egg as often as I could. Just because it was in its egg didn’t mean that it couldn’t hear the outside and react, and I hoped that my words entertained it because I couldn’t imagine the inside of an egg to be all that exciting.

“I bought some Flying-type Pokéchow today: it’s supposed to help you grow healthy feathers and a strong beak, and it’ll give you all the nutrients you need to be a healthy Pokémon!”

“Yuzuki, come get your snack!” Mom called from the kitchen. “I got some cookies from Kalos; I’m sure you’ll like them.”

“Coming!” I got up to my feet, lightly brushing the warm shell of the egg with the tips of my fingers. “I’ll be right back with a lil’ snackie. Don’t worry, it’ll be less than a minute!”

I trotted to the entrance of the kitchen, only to freeze in my tracks at the large CRACK that seemed to echo in my ears, rattle my chest, and send my heart leaping.

“MOM!” I shrieked, doubling back to the living room, socks slipping on the wooden floorboards as I almost ate the ground. Why I decided not to wear my socks with the rubber bottoms, I’ll never know. “IT’S HATCHING!”

“I’M COMING!” Reid hollered from upstairs, and a slightly quieter “Sawk!” followed before the thudding of them racing down the stairs heralded their coming.

Now we were all gathered – Mom, Reid, Gardevoir, Chimecho, Sawk, and I – around the basket. It was glowing and shaking, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away even as the growing brightness made me water up. I couldn’t look away in this moment, even if Arceus Itself was in our living room. Light streamed brighter still out of the cracks until the whole room was illuminated as if the sun was in our living room.

Then – it hatched.

I blinked spots out of my eyes, unsure if the tears down my face were from the light or from seeing my new partner.

“Swa! Swablu ~ ”

Mom clapped her hands together, beaming at me. “A Swablu! We were guessing that it might’ve been a Hoothoot because it was a Noctowl flock, but its other parent must’ve been an Altaria!”

I crept forward slowly, hand hovering over the Swablu’s little feather ahoge. It chirped and butted its head up into my hand, cooing lowly.

“Hi there, Swablu. I’m Elara Yuzuki, but you can call me either. Or you can do whatever you want, I’m okay with everything. I’m so glad you were born into this world,” I choked out, rubbing my eyes with my other hand.

“Swablu!” My new partner sang, eyes creased in joy.

（╯°□°）╯︵◓

“Your Pokémon is perfectly healthy for the species’ expected height and weight, but if you have any concerns, you can always come back,” the nurse said, putting away her stethoscope.

Swablu fluttered off the exam table into my arms, and I whispered all sorts of endearments that quickly devolved into mindless baby talk for her best behavior during her first Pokémon Center visit.

“Her registration has been transferred from your father’s custody to yours. We hope to see you soon; Best Wishes!”

“Thank you! Best Wishes!”

“Swaaaaablu!”

I walked out of the center, arms occupied with holding my gorgeous baby and scratching and petting her.

“C’mon, we’ve got to go home for dinner. I bet you’re hungry, too, huh? Hatching must’ve taken a lot out of you!”

“Elara, what would you like to have for dinner?” Mom gently cut in, her hand holding the Pokémon Center-provided bag of basic supplies and information for first-time trainers taking care of newly hatched Pokémon.

“Udon!” I cheered. It was starting to get a little chilly, and I loved soup most of all this time of year. “Udon with tempura on the side!”

“Sounds perfect to me! Gardevoir, I hope you don’t mind helping in the kitchen today?” Mom asked, turning to speak to the Embrace Pokémon.

“Voir!” She agreed, nodding.

“You’re in for a treat, Swablu! Udon is great: it’s savory, you can eat a lot of it without feeling sick, and it has soup!” I said to Swablu. She peered up at me, chirping in joy.

We discovered quite early on that Swablu (at 3 pounds) could tip me over if she perched on my head, so we compromised instead with me holding her in my arms for as long as I could before she situated herself on either my backpack or half-hopped, half-fluttered close to me.

I came to a dead stop.

“Dad’s going to be so sad that he missed Swablu’s hatching!”

（╯°□°）╯︵◓

Dad was, in fact, bummed out at missing out because he was still at work when Swablu hatched. But he quickly got over his moping and started reminiscing with Garchomp about their time together many, many years ago as elementary schooler and Gible.

Dinner was a great moment to introduce Swablu to the rest of the family. She took especially well to Chimecho, and I think it’s because his tinkling bell is great for singing along to.

After brushing my teeth and running a comb through her feathers, we were huddled together around Kid’s Picture Encyclopedia: Unova, Alola, and Beyond. It was the moment for the all-important step in our relationship: nicknames.

Some trainers nickname their partners; some don’t. It depends on the trainer, the region, or even the Pokémon. Some of my classmates gave their Pokémon names, like ‘Rollie’ the Roggenrola or ‘Peanut’ the Igglybuff. My parents never named theirs – it was just Gardevoir or Garchomp, simple and professional. I like both ways, honestly. Sometimes you look at a Pokémon and a name just fits.

But I wasn’t going to name Swablu without some of her input, so we were looking at the encyclopedia together.

“Creampuff? Doesn’t the filling look like your wings?”

“Swablu…”

“Or, Candyfloss? Because it’s also fluffy?”

“Swa!”

Then my eyes landed on the section on weather.

Nimbostratus: a type of cloud forming a thick uniform gray layer at low altitude, from which rain or snow often falls (without any lightning or thunder).

“How about… Nimbus?”

She immediately perked up at that.  

“Swa! Swablu! Swablu!”

“Hooray!” I threw my hands up, and Swablu – no, Nimbus – threw her wings up in mimicry.

“Nimbus and Elara Yuzuki, the most famous duo from Castelia City! I can already see the headlines, Nimbus!”

“Swablu!”

“Woohoo!”

A sharp rap on the door.

“Yuzuki, it’s bedtime!”

Ah, man.

“Sorry, Dad…”

“Swa…”