Damn, Kalos?

The night was calm and serene. The streets were deserted, not even a stray dog in sight. It's in moments like these that one finds the space to reflect on life.

I found myself walking down this empty street, lost in the memories of my past. My part-time job as a waiter at a hotel a few miles from home often required night shifts, frequently keeping me working until 1 AM. Without the means to afford private transport, I made do with walking home, savoring this tranquil solitude.

I've always been an avid Pokémon fan. I got my first Pokémon game during my early school years, and from then on, I followed the franchise religiously, playing every subsequent release. Eventually, I discovered that the games had an accompanying animated series, which marked the beginning of my journey into the world of anime.

These days, I'm replaying Pokémon X and Y, one of my favorite entries in the series. I look forward to playing it again when I get home from work, although I'll have to see if I have the patience left to grind through Victory Road.

Speaking of the anime, they've really been dropping the ball lately. The Masters 8 tournament having 3-on-3 battles? Don't get me wrong, I'm excited, as anyone would be—watching our favorite characters and the strongest trainers from each region duke it out is something special. But I can't help but feel disappointed. A tournament of this caliber deserves full 6-on-6 battles, not these shortened formats.

The silence around me reminded me of my solitude.

Man, it's times like these when you wish you had your best friend walking beside you.

I reached home.

"I'm home," I called out, only to be met with silence—the same silence that had filled this house for the past year.

My parents passed away when I was five. I was raised by my grandparents after that. Although they were deeply affected by my parent's deaths, they did their best to care for me just as they had cared for my parents. But, like my parents, they, too, are gone now. Two years ago, my grandmother passed away, and just a year later, my grandfather followed.

With the inheritance they left me, I've been paying for my college education and saving the remainder for future needs or emergencies. I took the job at the hotel for some extra pocket money.

Their deaths and my situation led to me being bullied during the latter part of high school and now in college as well. The so-called "cool kids" – mostly the wealthy ones – targeted me because of my financial situation and the fact that I'm an orphan. Anime, games, and fanfiction became my solace during those difficult times. Initially, I would come home, lock myself in this room, and cry myself to sleep.

But over time, I grew used to it. I refused to let those jerks have the satisfaction of breaking me. Determined to defend myself, I joined a martial arts training center and learned to fight. I didn't want to just beat them physically—I wanted to outsmart them, too. I adopted a new, more assertive persona inspired by Gojo Satoru—a strong, enigmatic character that would keep others at a distance and help me avoid trouble.

Switching off the shower, I ended my train of thoughts. I stepped out, got dressed, and took my usual spot by the window with my Nintendo console, ready to dive back into the grind. Just then, my phone pinged with a notification.

"A new chapter update – Fan Fiction"

A smile spread across my face.

Well, well…

Who knew that all those fanfictions were true?

Because they were. Somehow, I've found myself in the world of Pokémon—specifically, Kalos.

How did this happen?

I remember being on my way to challenge Siebold after defeating Malva when I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my chest. Everything went blank.

The next thing I knew, I woke up to a sight I never imagined I'd see: Professor Sycamore and Nurse Joy standing before me, watching expectantly. I couldn't believe it. Was this real? It had to be a dream, just another one of those vivid fantasies.

Thinking it was a hallucination, I closed my eyes and went back to sleep. But each time I woke up, I was still in the presence of Nurse Joy. This cycle continued for days until I finally found my voice, which had been unresponsive until then.

My previous life had ended, and I was in a new universe. A new chance. A new life? I wasn't sure. But one thing was clear—I was transported here. As I pondered this strange turn of events, I barely noticed a mop of pink hair enter the room.

"How are your vocal cords?" the nurse asked gently from the bedside as she adjusted some equipment. Her tone was soft, yet professional.

"P-Pret-ty o-okay," I managed to say, my voice trembling as if each word took immense effort.

The nurse offered a reassuring smile. "That's good to hear. You've been silent for so long. I'm glad you're finding your voice again." She paused, her eyes scanning the monitor beside my bed. "Do you feel any discomfort when speaking? Any pain in your throat?"

I swallowed, testing my throat. "N-no, not really. Just... feels strained."

"That's normal," she assured me. "You were in a comatose state for almost a month, and your muscles are still recovering. Take it slow—small words, short sentences. There's no rush."

I nodded slightly, grateful for her understanding.

The nurse continued, "If anything feels too uncomfortable, please let us know. Your body is still adjusting, so it's important to rest and not push yourself too hard. How are you feeling otherwise? Any dizziness or nausea?"

I took a moment to assess myself. "N-no, I feel... okay. Just weak."

She jotted down a note on her clipboard. "That's expected. You've been through a lot, so it'll take time to regain your strength." The nurse glanced at me thoughtfully, then leaned in a little closer. "Your situation is unique. The professor found you in a critical state near the outskirts of Lumiose City, close to the Power Plant. You were unresponsive, and given your injuries, it's a miracle you're awake now."

I blinked slowly, absorbing her words. So, I had almost died before waking up in this body.

"Honestly, it's not just your physical recovery we're concerned about," she continued gently. "We suspect you've lost most, if not all of your memories. That's what the doctors mentioned. Do you recall anything before you were found?"

I shook my head slightly. "N-no, I... I don't remember anything."

The nurse sighed softly, her expression sympathetic. "It's okay. Memory loss can happen with trauma like yours. For now, focus on resting and getting better. Your memories might come back slowly, or they might not. Either way, you're safe now."

I appreciated her kind words but couldn't help the anxiety building up inside. Not remembering this body's past was both a relief and a burden. If the previous owner's memories were truly gone, I had no identity here.

Seeing my troubled expression, the nurse gave me a gentle smile. "Don't worry. We'll figure things out together. Take it one day at a time. The professor, doctor, and I are here to help."

With a slight nod, I whispered, "Thank you."

"Rest now," she urged softly. "You've made a lot of progress just by speaking today."

As she left the room, I leaned back into the pillows, my mind buzzing with unanswered questions. The doctors suggested I might have amnesia, which, fortunately for me, meant I didn't have to pretend to remember a life I knew nothing about. But it raised a bigger question: Who was I supposed to be in this world? And what was I supposed to do next?

Now, looking out of the window, I can say with certainty that I'm in Lumiose City. The iconic tower that houses the gym, and the massive stadium that hosts the Lumiose Conference—all of it confirms that this is the world of Pokémon. Fletchlings and other bird Pokémon fluttered about, and the streets below buzzed with trainers and their partners. It's overwhelming to think that I'm here. I want to jump out of bed, run through the streets, and battle every Pokémon in sight—except maybe Cynthia's Garchomp. Some battles are terrifying no matter the universe.

Professor Sycamore stepped into the room, his presence immediately noticeable by the faint scent of coffee and the crispness of his lab coat. With a warm smile that seemed to radiate kindness, he greeted, "Ah, you're awake! How are you feeling? I'm Professor Sycamore, by the way." He spoke gently as he pulled up a chair next to the bed, his keen eyes assessing my condition.

I studied him for a moment. He looked exactly as I remembered from the show: tall, slender, with messy black hair and a perpetual look of curiosity on his face. But I kept my expression neutral. I didn't want to reveal too much, so I answered in a measured tone, "I'm feeling... fine, I think."

The professor's smile widened slightly. "That's wonderful to hear!" he said brightly, settling into the chair. For a moment, we both turned to look outside the large window, letting the quiet hum of the hospital fill the silence. He seemed content to simply sit there, lost in the city's view, while I was mentally scrambling to figure out my next move.

I decided to cut through the pleasantries. "What exactly happened to me?" I asked, my voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

Sycamore turned his gaze back to me, his expression growing serious. "I found you just outside Lumiose City, near the power plant. You were unconscious, bleeding heavily from a head wound." He paused, his brows furrowing slightly. "I was on my way to a research site when I saw you lying there. You were in a critical state, so I brought you here as quickly as I could. The doctors have filled you in on the rest, I assume?"

I nodded slowly, feeling a strange detachment as I processed his words. So, I was on the verge of death even in this world? Dying souls' synergence must have caused my sudden appearance here.

First of all, why was I even transported here? What is my purpose? And who—or what—brought me to this world? Questions swirled relentlessly in my mind. I shook my head, pushing the thoughts aside to focus back on the conversation.

"Do you remember anything?" the professor asked softly, leaning forward. There was a hopeful gleam in his eyes. "Anything about what happened, or even something from before?"

I met his gaze evenly. "No," I said simply.

His shoulders slumped, and he let out a quiet sigh. "I was hoping... well, never mind," he murmured. "The doctors said you might have amnesia due to brain trauma. What do you remember about yourself? Any fragments or flashes of memory?"

"Nothing," I replied, shaking my head slightly. "All I know is that I'm in a world with Pokémon. I have some vague knowledge about day-to-day life, but no recollection of family, friends, or... well, anything personal."

Professor Sycamore leaned back thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving mine. "We searched for any form of identification when you were brought in—trainer ID, Pokédex, anything. But there was nothing on you. It's as if you just appeared out of thin air." He paused, studying me carefully. "You're at a dead end with your identity, I'm afraid."

I averted my eyes, turning my gaze back to the window. The weight of his words settled uncomfortably in my chest. A dead end... I didn't have any answers, nor did I have the luxury of pretending to know. I was a complete blank slate in this world.

The professor seemed to sense my unease and fell silent, the room filling with a heavy, unspoken tension. After what felt like an eternity, he finally stood up, brushing imaginary dust off his coat. "Get some rest," he said softly, his tone gentle. "You need it. I have some work to take care of, but I'll be back later to check on you."

He turned to leave, stopping just before the door. Glancing over his shoulder, he added, "If there's anything—anything at all that comes to mind, don't hesitate to let me know."

I watched as he exited, the door clicking shut softly behind him. The room felt emptier without his presence. I shifted slightly, my eyes drifting downward as I took in the sight of my hands. Why hadn't I thought to check my appearance earlier? I glanced at the reflective glass of the window. White hair. Blue eyes.

I looked like Gojo Satoru.

It had been a week since I woke up, and the days had blurred into a monotonous routine of eating, sleeping, and contemplating my strange situation. Professor Sycamore visited almost daily, our conversations initially revolving around my past and any potential memory triggers. After a few days of hitting dead ends, he shifted the topic to his research and day-to-day life, trying to ease me into a sense of normalcy.

One afternoon, he strolled into my room, looking as cheerful as ever. "Good afternoon!" he greeted warmly. Taking his usual seat beside the bed, he launched into his stories about trainers and Pokémon. He was halfway through recounting his latest project when something he said piqued my interest.

"I recently got a new assistant," he mentioned, his eyes lighting up. "A bright young man named Alain. He came looking for a starter Pokémon, but unfortunately, I had run out of Kalos starters. He offered to help in the lab while I find another starter for him, so I couldn't refuse."

I perked up at that. Alain? If he was still here, then Ash was probably in Unova or finishing up his journey there. That meant I had a rough idea of where we were in the timeline.

Professor Sycamore continued talking about Alain and his various projects, while I processed this information quietly. Our conversation continued until the door opened, and a familiar face stepped in. Nurse Joy, the doctor assigned to me, gave me a cheerful smile.

"You're recovering quite well," she remarked, checking my vitals. "If this progress continues, you'll be ready to leave by next week."

"That's good to hear," I murmured, glancing at the professor. He looked back at me thoughtfully.

"What will you do next?" he asked gently. "Do you have any plans?"

I stared up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of uncertainty settle over me again. "I... I don't know. I don't have money to pay for the hospital stay, and I can't remember what I was doing before. I don't even know where to go from here."

The professor hummed softly, tapping his chin in thought. "Well, if you have nowhere else to go, you could work for me as an assistant," he suggested. "If you've lost most of your memory, it might be a good way to reorient yourself. You could learn more about Pokémon—after all, they're the heart of this world. And while you're with me, I can help you get a trainer's license. With my endorsement, the League would grant you a provisional license, which you could later upgrade to a permanent one."

My heart skipped a beat at the offer. Working with a professor, gaining more Pokémon knowledge, and potentially getting a trainer's license? This was an opportunity I couldn't afford to pass up.

A grin broke out across my face as I replied, "I wouldn't have it any other way, Professor."

Sycamore chuckled softly. "Excellent. Welcome aboard."