Everything was warm. Then suddenly... it wasn't.
The warmth broke into a blinding brightness, an overwhelming wave of cold air, and a million sensations crashing in all at once. His tiny body instinctively curled, lungs filling with strange new air for the first time, before releasing it in a loud, fragile cry.
'What is this?'
'Why is everything so loud?'
'Why can I feel the air... inside my skin?'
'Am I... crying?'
The sound startled him. It came from him, but not in any way he remembered. If he remembered anything at all.
His blurry vision barely registered the white ceiling overhead and the shadowy figures moving above him. And then, a face leaned in. A woman—huge, in comparison—gaze swollen with tears, hair clinging to her forehead. She looked like she had just run a marathon and cried through every mile.
She smiled—a radiant, exhausted kind of joy. Her arms trembled as she brought him close to her chest, skin warm, heartbeat strong and steady.
'So big... why is she so big...?'
'Is she holding me? Am I... that small?'
'What's going on?'
The woman let out a soft laugh, thick with relief. "He's here," she whispered. "He's really here."
He could feel the thrum of her heartbeat against his delicate cheek. There was comfort in it, something ancient and familiar, even if everything else felt new and terrifying.
Then another presence entered—quieter, heavier footsteps. A voice, deeper. Rough, but soft at the edges.
"Can I see him?" the man asked, his tone breaking.
She nodded, and the man stepped forward. Taller, broader, his face flushed and stunned. He wasn't crying, but his gaze glistened as he took them both in.
He sat beside her, leaning down to gently kiss her forehead before placing a tentative finger on the baby's miniature hand.
"He's so little," he whispered. "So perfect."
'Who are these people?'
'Why do they look at me like I'm... theirs?'
'Is this... my family?'
He tried to move, to speak, to do anything, but his body wouldn't respond the way he expected. Everything was heavy, uncoordinated. His own arm—just a blur in the corner of his vision.
The woman leaned her forehead against his, sight closed.
"Welcome to the world, little one," she whispered.
'What world'? 'What… happened to me?'
'Why can't I remember… my name?'
The man's voice broke the silence again. "I still can't believe it. After everything... he's here."
Their faces blurred again as his vision fluttered. The room faded back into a haze of warmth and light. His mind, already overwhelmed, began to drift back into sleep.
But one thought clung like a thread in a storm:
'I don't know where I am... but I'm alive.'
'And I wasn't here before, I've been reincarnated'
The soft rhythm of footsteps faded as the nurse left, giving the small family a moment alone. The mother rested against her pillow, the baby nestled in her arms, blinking rapidly—delicate features adjusting to a world still too bright and too loud.
The father remained close, sitting at the edge of the bed, one arm wrapped around his wife's shoulders.
"Have you thought about what we discussed?" he asked quietly, gaze still fixed on the small bundle between them.
She nodded, then turned to the infant in her arms. Her expression shifted—joy mixing with something softer, like reverence.
"What do you think of... Ash?" she said carefully. "Ash Ketchum."
The father smiled wide, repeating it almost in awe. "Ash Ketchum… It fits him perfectly. Feels right."
'Ash Ketchum…'
'Wait—what?'
Something flickered in the newborn's mind, like the click of a forgotten puzzle piece slotting into place.
'No… no, that name's familiar. I know that name.'
'Ash Ketchum. The kid with the cap and the Pikachu. The stubborn, never-give-up kind of guy. The Pokémon Trainer.'
His fragile hand twitched in reflex, startling his mother, who laughed softly.
"Look! He moved when we said his name," she cooed.
The father leaned closer, beaming. "Hey, little Ash… You like that name already, huh?"
'Am I seriously Ash Ketchum? Like… the Ash Ketchum?'
'Is this really the Pokémon world? Is Professor Oak going to show up next with a Charmander?!'
Excitement surged within him—raw and wild. He couldn't smile, not yet, not fully, but inside, his mind buzzed with wonder.
'Okay. Okay. Deep breaths. Maybe it's just a coincidence.'
'But what if it's not? What if I am him? Or… someone with his name?'
His tiny fingers curled against the soft blanket.
'I don't know where I am, or why I'm here. But I've got a name now.'
'Ash Ketchum.'
'And if this is the world I think it is… I might be in for one crazy adventure.'
The rain outside picked up, but inside the room, all was still. The parents, unaware of the storm of thoughts stirring behind their newborn son's mind, just held him close—smiling, dreaming, unaware that the child in their arms had already begun to question reality.
Three days of gentle routine followed—checkups with smiling nurses, quiet conversations between his parents, and countless moments of being held, fed, and studied with wonder. The hospital had become a cocoon of safety, but now it was time to leave.
The front door creaked open as the father gently pushed it inward, one arm still carrying the duffel bag from the hospital. The mother followed closely, cradling the newborn, gaze tired but glowing with happiness.
They barely made it two steps inside when a deep, booming bark echoed from the back of the house.
'What was that?'
Thudding paws hit the floor like small earthquakes. A moment later, a massive dog-like creature—all thick cream and brown fur, long whiskers, and exuberant energy—barreled into the hallway.
"Whoa—HEY!" the father shouted, too late.
With a joyful bark, the beast tackled him to the ground, licking his face and letting out loud, rumbly whines of pure excitement.
"Haha—Albus! Calm down! I missed you too!" he laughed, pinned beneath the furry bulk.
'Wait… is that?'
'No. No way.'
The mother sighed fondly, still smiling. "Albus, you big brute, you're going to knock something over. Settle down."
The creature—Albus—perked up and turned to the woman, ears twitching with interest. When he spotted the baby in her arms, he froze for a moment, as if understanding something profound and unspoken. Then, cautiously, he padded closer with surprising gentleness and sniffed the child, letting out a soft, approving huff.
"There, there," she said, crouching slightly. "This is Ash. Be gentle with him."
Albus let out a low, protective chuff and settled beside her like a furry guardian, tail thumping rhythmically against the floor.
'Stoutland… that's a Stoutland.'
'Big body, thick fur, those wise, intelligent features… that's not a regular dog. That's a Pokémon.'
He blinked slowly, struggling to take in the creature's full shape through his newborn vision—but it was enough.
'I know that face. I watched Litten cry next to that face in the anime.'
'I know that bark. That protective stare.'
His heartbeat picked up, faster than it had since the hospital. Excitement pulsed through his fragile frame.
'This isn't just a coincidence.'
'I am in the Pokémon Universe.'
'I'm Ash Ketchum… and that is a real, breathing Stoutland right in front of me.'
The father got up, brushing dog fur off his shirt with a wide grin. "Told you he'd be excited," he said. "He probably thought we abandoned him forever."
The mother chuckled warmly. "Well, now he's got a new reason to stay close to home."
She moved to the couch and gently laid the baby in a cushioned carrier, Albus immediately positioning himself nearby like a devoted sentry, watchful and protective.
'This is real. This is all real.'
'And I've got a lot to figure out…'
But for now, lulled by the comfort of warm fur, the gentle rhythm of the Stoutland's breathing, and the quiet hum of home, Ash slowly drifted into sleep—with the faintest smile blooming in his newborn heart.