Pokémon: Rich Re:Start

As the murmurs quieted and the children settled in place, Professor Oak stepped forward with a warm, commanding presence. His voice carried both authority and kindness as he began to speak:

"Hello there! Welcome to the world of Pokémon!" he said with a slight smile, eyes scanning the group of young faces before him. "My name is Oak. People call me the Pokémon Professor. But I'm not just a man in a lab coat—I've spent my life walking forests, scaling hills, and watching Pokémon live and grow alongside us."

He held up a Poké Ball, turning it slowly between his fingers. "This world is inhabited by creatures we call Pokémon. They're not just pets or battle partners—they're companions, friends, and mysteries still waiting to be understood. For some, they are guardians. For others, symbols of heritage. And for a few, they're the start of a dream."

Oak's gaze settled on the crowd. "Myself… I study Pokémon as a profession. I've seen their bonds with humans bring out strength greater than any textbook could explain. And now, you're all about to begin your own journey—perhaps not as trainers yet, but as learners, observers, and one day... pioneers."

Julius stood quietly among the children, arms crossed loosely as he listened. The words stirred something in him. It was familiar—those iconic lines echoing straight from the games of his previous life—but it was different now. Oak wasn't a two-dimensional sprite behind a screen. He was a real man, with weight in his words and life behind his eyes.

Julius narrowed his eyes slightly. So this really is how things are here… no artificial fanfare. Just people and creatures bound by something real. He glanced around. Most kids looked amazed, some too young to understand. But to him, every syllable Oak spoke was proof—proof that this place wasn't a storybook setting.

Professor Oak clapped his hands lightly, smiling at the gathered children. "Now then, before we begin today's activities, my assistant will be handing out a short form. Nothing too difficult," he added with a warm chuckle. "Just a few questions about your thoughts on Pokémon and what you'd like to do with them when you grow up."

A young lab assistant, dressed in the standard white coat, began passing out the papers and pencils, crouching slightly to match the children's height. The paper had three simple prompts:

What do Pokémon mean to you?

What kind of Pokémon do you like?

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Some kids groaned, others scribbled away with enthusiasm. A few just stared at the paper, unsure what to write. Julius glanced down at his own sheet, his expression unreadable. For a few moments, he simply held the pencil in his fingers.

He looked over at Ethan, who was already hunched over, tongue sticking out slightly as he scribbled something about being a Trainer with a cool Typhlosion; a faint smile tugged at his lips—of course it'd be Typhlosion. Others around him were filling in words like "Gym Leader," "Breeder," or "Pokémon Nurse." The air was full of quiet murmurs and pencil scratches.

Julius finally put pencil to paper.

His answers were simple, but each word carried weight—measured, thoughtful, and unlike any you'd expect from a normal seven-year-old. He didn't write them as goals for fun or fantasy. He wrote them like a man planning for the future.

Once all the kids had handed in their papers, Professor Oak clapped his hands gently to gather their attention. "Alright, everyone! It's time for the real adventure to begin." With that warm, commanding voice of his, he led the group outside the lab, his white coat fluttering slightly in the breeze. The children followed in a somewhat scattered line, bubbling with excitement and questions. Oak kept a steady pace, occasionally pointing out a few native plants or wild Pidgey fluttering by, sharing small facts as they walked. Awaiting them just outside the gate was a sleek white bus with the camp's logo printed on the side. The doors hissed open, and one by one, the children began to climb aboard.

As Julius stepped into the bus, his sharp eyes scanned the rows of seats with a subtle urgency. He wasn't just looking for a place to sit—he was searching for someone. A boy around his own age, with messy black hair that stuck out in every direction like a bed of thorns. He should've been easy to spot, especially with that red and white cap he always wore in the anime. But the seat that should've held him was empty. Julius furrowed his brow slightly. Strange… he thought. Ash Ketchum, or Satoshi as he's known in Japan, should be here by now. The realization that the future "chosen one" hadn't even boarded the bus yet sent a small ripple through Julius's expectations. Most of the kids had already scrambled for the front seats. Julius and Ethan, lingering near the end, were left with the very last row.

Sliding in beside a girl with bright blue hair, Julius gave a polite nod. Sitting next to her, on the far side, was another girl—same face, same haircut, but her hair was a soft, cotton-candy pink. The resemblance between the two was uncanny.

For a split second, Julius blinked, his mind flashing to Rem and Ram from Re:Zero. The resemblance was eerie. He composed himself quickly, but a quiet curiosity settled in his eyes. What are the odds…?

Just as the engine rumbled and the bus was about to pull away, a sudden shout came from outside. A boy, barefoot in his hurry and with a mop of messy black hair bouncing as he ran, dashed toward the open doors. His mother trailed behind, clutching a small bag and calling out, "Ash! Don't forget your things!"

He stumbled slightly at the step but hopped in, panting with a flushed face. From one of the front seats, Gary leaned out, a smug grin plastered across his face. "Tch, cutting it close again, huh?" he jeered playfully, patting the empty seat next to him. "I saved you the good spot, dummy."

Ash lit up, clearly used to the teasing. "Thanks, Gary!" he laughed, sliding in beside him without hesitation. The two bumped shoulders like old friends, the rest of the kids watching as the final passenger took his place.

From the very back of the bus, Julius chuckled softly. The familiar banter between the two boys—one loud and proud, the other all heart and energy—was oddly comforting. Watching them felt like glimpsing a scene out of a memory he never lived, yet somehow always knew.

As the bus rolled along a sun-dappled path, Professor Oak stood at the front, gesturing out the wide windows.

"Ah, there—see those small leaves sprouting near the tree roots? Those aren't just plants—those are Oddish! During the day, they bury themselves in soil to absorb nutrients, much like how real plants do photosynthesis. Fascinating little creatures, aren't they?"

The children leaned toward the windows, wide-eyed. Julius, meanwhile, glanced to his side, catching the soft hum of the twin-like girls again.

"Ram, Ram, did you hear?" the blue-haired one whispered, her tone sweet like a lullaby. "The earth feeds them, and in return, they bloom with dreams."

Rem's twin clicked her tongue. "Dreams? Don't be silly, Rem. They're just weeds with feet."

"But Ram, even weeds have wishes when they sway in the breeze."

Julius leaned his cheek against the window, his reflection flickering alongside the passing trees and wild Pokémon. He watched the twin girls—one with hair the color of a clear sky, the other a gentle blush of pink—speak in their strange, rhythmic way, and something clicked in his mind.

This wasn't just some random twist of fate.

His name. His face. The uncanny resemblance to Julius Juukulius. Those two girls—so perfectly resembling Rem and Ram it was almost eerie. It was as if Satoshi Tajiri and Tappei Nagatsuki had sat down together over tea and said, "Let's make a crossover. A secret spinoff where our worlds blur, and this boy—he'll be the bridge."

A quiet thrill ran down his spine. This wasn't the anime world he thought he knew, nor was it just the games. It was something more… something stitched together from stories and dreams. And he Julius, who was not even supposed to be in this series was here and was right in the middle of it.