John's Point of View
Being two years old in this world was already a challenge.
Being treated like a living plushie was... humiliating.
Aelira Silver—my grandmother, though Matriarch of the Eternal Brush might've been more accurate—had yet to release me from her lap. I had no clue how she'd conjured the brush she was using to untangle my hair, but I was ninety percent sure it was summoned from a hidden dimensional pocket just for child grooming.
And worse—worse—was that I was purring.
Still.
Prrr...
Every time her fingers stroked behind my ears, it was over. My dignity, my pride, my adult soul... all surrendered without a fight.
I had been reduced to a very well-behaved Litleo plushie.
And the worst part?
...I didn't hate it.
The soft velvet of her robes, the warmth of her hands, the smell of something floral and ancient clinging to her clothes—it felt like safety. Like family. Like something I'd missed without knowing I missed it.
So I leaned back into it.
But I was listening.
Because things were about to get interesting.
"So," Aelira said in her smooth, noblewoman tone, "did the flight go well?"
Mama—Yua—sat across from us on an elegantly upholstered couch. Her expression was calm, but her eyes flicked toward me now and then like she couldn't believe I hadn't spontaneously combusted from embarrassment.
"It did," she replied. "He was calm the entire way. No problems."
Aelira gave a small nod. "Good. He seems... surprisingly composed."
That was when she turned her gaze on Lilia.
Elegant, reserved Lilia. My tutor, apparently. Still standing with perfect posture beside the fireplace, hands folded neatly in front of her, like a knight awaiting debrief.
"And you?" Grandmother asked lightly. "How did your little mission go?"
My ears twitched.
Mission?
Mama blinked. "What mission?"
Lilia stepped forward calmly. "When I was first informed of Master John's existence, I was given three instructions."
Her voice was steady. Polished.
"One: that he is your son, Mistress Yua.
Two: that I was to serve as his personal maid and academic instructor.
And three: that I was to keep his identity confidential until the Silver family deemed otherwise."
I blinked.
Wait. What?!
Yua sat up straight, her voice sharp with disbelief. "You were sent? By her?"
Lilia nodded. "Yes, Mistress. Lady Aelira instructed me to assess his disposition, behavior, and potential before his arrival."
Mama turned to her mother, stunned. "You had her spy on us?"
"Observe," Aelira corrected smoothly. "And I would do it again. I don't take chances with my legacy. I wanted to know what kind of child had been hidden from me."
My face flushed.
I looked at Lilia. "So you were always supposed to be my... tutor?"
"And your maid, yes," she confirmed gently. "Assigned by Lady Silver herself."
Yua looked completely blindsided. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because that was not part of the assessment," Lilia replied simply.
Aelira resumed brushing my hair with maddeningly elegant patience.
I felt like a Meowth being groomed for auction.
Prrr...
Lilia continued. "When we took off, I assumed I would need to be gentle. Subtle. He's two, after all. I expected to observe playfulness, maybe tantrums. Instead..."
She gave a faint smile.
"...he approached me. After everyone was asleep."
Yua's head snapped toward me. "He what?"
"He walked up on his own," Lilia confirmed. "And said, word for word: 'I don't want to embarrass Mama. I don't know how to bow or stand or talk like the people you serve. Will you teach me?'"
My soul wanted to leap out the nearest window.
I nodded weakly. "I didn't want to make you look bad..."
Mama stared at me.
Then exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Lilia spoke again. "He learned faster than I've ever seen. I've trained noble children, foreign dignitaries' heirs, even tournament prodigies—but none have absorbed etiquette the way Master John did. In less than two hours, he mastered the formalities I reserve for six-year-olds."
Aelira's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Impressive."
"More than that," Lilia said. "When we finished, he asked me for more."
Yua blinked. "You mean..."
"Yes," Lilia said. "So I began academic evaluation. Alphabet instruction. Pokémon name associations. Simple arithmetic. Reading patterns."
Yua stood up from her seat, stunned. "Lilia—you taught him formal academics?! He's not even three!"
"We don't start education until five," Aelira added. "Four at most."
"I know," Lilia said. "And yet he learned everything I gave him. Quickly. Happily. Without error."
Silence dropped over the room like a heavy curtain.
Even Grandmother paused her brushing.
I sank further into her lap, cheeks burning.
Lilia's voice lowered. "That's when I decided to perform a passive aura scan. No intrusion—just a light touch to confirm what I suspected."
Aelira's eyes narrowed. "And?"
"I found two energy signatures."
Yua inhaled sharply. "Two?!"
"Yes," Lilia said. "One was... unlike anything I've ever encountered. Not aura. Not type-energy. Something deeper. It felt like the forest. Alive. Endless. Gentle and powerful all at once."
Grandmother's hand stopped brushing.
"...The second?" she asked.
"Psychic," Lilia answered. "Vast. Dormant. Completely sealed by subconscious instinct. But likely the reason for his information retention and mental development."
Aelira was quiet for a long time. Then: "Dual energies... That's rare."
"Not impossible," Lilia acknowledged. "But incredibly uncommon. I've only ever seen one other case in all my life."
Yua sat slowly back down, visibly shaken. "I only ever felt the forest one. I never sensed anything else."
"That's to be expected," Lilia said. "The psychic energy is hidden deep. It won't awaken fully until he's older. Or unless something triggers it."
Yua's lips parted. "Then... that explains what happened earlier today."
Everyone turned to her.
"This morning," she said. "Before the flight. I introduced him to my Pokémon. I just wanted them to meet him. Feel his aura. But when they started talking among themselves, he—he spoke back."
Lilia tilted her head. "You mean... through tone or aura resonance?"
"No," Yua said, voice firm. "He understood them. Word for word. He translated for Absol. Answered Butterfree. Joked with Gengar. He spoke to them like he speaks to me."
Another long silence.
Lilia looked floored. "That's impossible. Pokémon language can't be understood Not unless he has a bonded aura link or full psychic communication."
"I know," Mama whispered. "But he did it. Without hesitation."
They all looked at me again.
I squirmed. "I... just understood them."
Aelira slowly resumed brushing, though her hand was slower now. Thoughtful.
"Well then," she said at last. "My little Litleo has teeth."
Prrr—
"Two energy signatures. Wildly gifted intellect. Natural empathy. And full Pokémon comprehension."
She smiled faintly, brushing my hair again. "A Silver indeed."
I didn't know what to say.
So I leaned into her chest, warm and flushed, heart pounding with something I couldn't quite name.
And she held me.
No pressure. No demand.
Just pride.
Real, terrifying, warm grandmotherly pride.
Lilia stepped back, bowing slightly. "That is the full report, Lady Silver."
Yua looked at me again, her eyes glassy. "You're amazing, baby," she whispered.
I blinked. "I'm just... me."
Aelira chuckled softly above me.
"Indeed you are, my little Litleo," she said.
Prrr...
...Damn it.
And then—
She stopped brushing.
My head lifted slightly. My ears metaphorically perked up. I froze.
No more strokes. No more behind-the-ear indulgence. Just—air.
My soul left my body.
I turned around slowly, my eyes wide with immediate panic.
"Why'd you stop...?" I asked, my voice a tiny, desperate whisper.
My grandmother looked at me with the faintest smirk of triumph. "Because I'm finished for now."
A noise escaped me.
A soft, unbidden whine.
My lips instantly pressed shut, horrified.
But the damage was done.
Because every woman in the room—Mama, Lilia, and especially Grandma—melted.
"Awww," Mama cooed.
"Oh my stars, he whines too?" Lilia said with a hand over her mouth.
"He's just too precious," Grandma added, brushing my cheek with the back of her knuckle. "Like a freshly hatched Espurr."
My face burned.
I buried it halfway into my grandmother's silver-sleeved arm, already cursing my traitorous body for yet another humiliating moment. Why was this so hard to control?
"I'll be keeping that in mind," Grandma said playfully. "But for now..."
Her voice shifted—just slightly. Lighter in tone, but unmistakably serious.
"...I want to test this 'Pokémon communication' for myself."
I peeked up.
Oh no.
She reached into the folds of her silver dress and retrieved a sleek, engraved communicator—old-fashioned, classy, and probably worth more than our old apartment.
With a single press, she spoke clearly. "Kaelin."
There was no delay. A voice answered immediately, crisp and low.
"Yes, my lady?"
"Retrieve my Pokémon. The new one. Bring her here, if she's not occupied."
"As you command. I shall return shortly."
The device clicked off.
I blinked. "Kaelin?"
"My personal attendant," she said, adjusting a crease in her dress with regal ease. "He handles anything I ask. Efficient, silent, and more loyal than any Houndoom."
I didn't say it, but the name sounded like someone who would appear behind me in a mirror if I said it three times.
The room went quiet for a few minutes.
Lilia returned to her respectful stillness. Mama watched me, both amused and nervous. I sat on Grandma's lap, very aware of the tension in my shoulders and the very recent memory of betraying my pride to purring and whining.
And then, a knock.
Soft. Precise.
Aelira turned her head toward the door. "Enter."
The large oak doors swung open, and in walked Kaelin.
He looked exactly as I expected.
Tall. Pale. Black gloves. Smooth silver vest. Not a hair out of place. He looked like he'd walked out of a noir film and hadn't smiled since the invention of Poké Balls.
In his arms, balanced perfectly on a deep violet pillow trimmed in silver, was a Poké Ball.
Not just placed—presented.
He approached with silent footsteps and stopped three paces from my grandmother, kneeling slightly.
"My lady," he said, offering the pillow forward with both hands.
"Thank you, Kaelin," she said, accepting the ball with fluid ease. She didn't even look at it. Just weighed it in her palm like she already knew what would happen next.
He rose, bowed again, and stepped silently back toward the doors.
And then...
Grandmother raised the Poké Ball.
"Let's see if the rumors are true," she murmured. "Come on out, my little ball of sunshine..."
She pressed the button.
A flash of red light exploded from the ball and
The red light started to fade. The air shimmered softly with static.
And then... there she stood.
Round, soft, and gently glowing. Her big eyes blinked twice as she looked around the room with the curiosity of a newborn Skitty... before her gaze snapped straight to me.
Her little arms flopped slightly at her sides, and her stubby feet shifted with excitement.
"Clafable vlafable clafable!"
(Hi there little one, you are cute!)
I blinked once.
Twice.
Then narrowed my eyes.
"I'm not cute," I said, arms crossing. "I'm handsome."
The room broke.
Mama choked on a laugh from across the study.
Clefable gasped—hands flying to her cheeks in pure surprise. "Clafaaa?!"
But the real drama wasn't with Clefable.
It was with the two silent statues standing behind and beside me.
Grandmother's eyes went wide. Her posture—always so graceful—froze.
Lilia looked like someone had slapped her with a Pokedex.
"You... understood her," Lilia whispered.
"Perfectly," my grandmother murmured, her brush hand paused mid-air again.
I turned back to Clefable, ignoring the rising silence behind me. "And before you say anything else, I'm not a plushie either."
Clefable giggled and twirled in place. "Clafa vlafa bleble~!"
(You're a plushie with attitude! I like you!)
I sighed. "Of course you do."
Behind me, I could feel Aelira's gaze drilling into the side of my head like a Heatmor with something to prove.
"I want to test this further," she said suddenly. Her voice was measured, but there was something sharp buried underneath it.
She leaned forward slightly, hands folded on her lap, eyes gleaming with calculation.
"Clefable," she said clearly. "Tell John how we met. Let's see how well he understands."
Clefable tilted her head, then clapped her tiny hands together excitedly. "Clafable blaaaaa~ clafa blfable! Blfaaa! Clafable bleble clafa!"
I nodded slowly.
"She said..." I started, turning to face my grandmother directly. "She was sitting on a rock next to a river because she liked how the water sparkled. Then she heard your voice from the trees and thought it sounded like a 'big, shiny moon lady,' so she followed the sound. She said you smelled like a garden and didn't scare her, so she walked into your hand when you held it out."
Grandmother didn't blink.
Didn't breathe.
Lilia straightened, her mouth slightly parted.
Clefable blinked once, then beamed. "Clafable!"
(Exactly! You got it! You really did! Yay!)
I shrugged.
"It wasn't that hard."
Silence.
Then—
"My stars," Lilia whispered. "He really can understand them."
Aelira leaned back in her seat, slowly crossing her legs, a shadow of something ancient flickering behind her eyes.
"...This changes everything."