Chapter 1: Meeting

3'700 years later...

1st April 5738.

Ishigami Senkū broke out his stone confinement.

He lied there on the ground, just breathing (because he could), still thinking and unconsciously counting (because he couldn't stop until he had calculated the "exact" date).

The temperature of the air was optimal, so he did manage to wake up in spring.

Slowly the teen sat and looked around: instead of the high school where he had been before the petrification, he was inside a forest rather old, if the diameter of the trunks were an indication.

Now, what about the petrification itself?

Some fragments slid down his naked body: his clothes hadn't been included in the petrification process, so they had definitely frayed down during the years.

Methodically Senkū gathered all the fragments and collected them where he had lied, then, finding random pebbles, he delimited his silhouette on the ground, so he could study them all in a later moment.

After carefully burying the shell-stone fragments, the teen surveyed the terrain around and noticed for the first time a group of monkeys watching him. The animals, startled by this "new shiny monkey" staring back at them, fled, however their reaction had been a clue Senkū had been looking for: he was the first human they had ever seen.

Ishigami Senkū was the first Japanese to break out of the stonification.

Senkū was first, and foremost, a scientist.

After collecting some vines and wrapping them around his hips and upper thighs to cover his kintama, since right now they were his most tender and weakest part (thus in need to be protected), the teen finally calculated the date.

(Had it been really been 3700 years?)

Next step, he engraved the date on the bark of a tree near a bats' cave beside where he had awoken.

After trying (and failing) to light a fire, he built the tools to do so.

After trying (and failing yet again) to hunt, he built traps to catch harts and hares.

If a problem couldn't be solved, just create the ways that allowed to do so through trials and errors.

However, there was a "problem" that wasn't really solvable by "normal" (in Senkū-terms) means. The boy kept feeling eyes watching him, but he was sure they didn't belong to the pack of monkeys, which he shared the territory with. The eyes he was feeling were more inquisitive and insightful. More intelligent.

At first the teen had thought that the presence could belong to either a predator or a "wild" human (3700 years wasn't enough for a hominid-like species to evolve, but the process could already have started); however there weren't clues of either. At least not the evident ones, so he decided to do nothing. If they weren't hostile and didn't want to approach him yet, why bother?

Things changed not long after Senkū managed to finish his elevated shelter (AKA tree house) and leather clothes. After his round of supplies-gathering and his exhaustion had finally managed to wear his energy reserves thin, he collapsed before his refuge, trying to get a second wind.

He needed help.

Doing everithing by himself was going to get him killed one way or another.

[Moreover, human beings were social creatures, so after the few weeks of "freedom" without contacts following thousands years of isolation in his own mind, even the self-proclaimed-antisocial (and tsundere, but he would never admit it) Senkū was feeling touch-starved.]

He needed man-power and from a specific man he could trust.

This was what led Senkū to dig out a statue not far from where he had woken up, who belonged to one Ooki Taiju, and leave him insidethe bats' cave to let the nitric acid do its scientific "magic*¹ " (chemical reaction), since he believed it to be the catalyst of freedom.

What before ha been a race towards stable food-income and suitable shelter, now it was a waiting game. An endurance game.

Since then, even if the teen tried to be more careful, he ended collapsing (never losing consciousness, mind you) at least once a week. On a particularly slow week (during the previous two days the traps had been empty so he had to ration what remained of smoked fish and radishes) Senkū woke up barely able to sit up and drag himself to the pot where he stored fresh water.

He needed more food and nutrients... maybe he had just to move the traps elsewhere, the current spots had already been identified as dangerous.

As Senkū finally gathered enough strength to reach the hut door, he paused at the sight of a foreign fruit laying there. It was pale yellow with orange mottles and looked extremely similar to a citron, just a third of its size... but sure as Newton's laws it wasn't any kind of citrus he knew of. Besides, in the territory surrounding his hut, there weren't any citrus trees, he had inspected carefully! Where did this come from? And so out of season!

Cautiously he crawled to the fruit and gently prodded it with a stick, rolling it over. The pattern was uniform all around and the shiny skin gave off a citrus-y smell, not too sour, not too sweet.

...Maybe in 3700 years plants had "frolicked" and bred to produce a fruit like this, it wasn't unlikely.

Who had delivered it, though?

...well, he could go all CSI after eating, since his stomach had just roared. With a stone shard, he tried to cut the surface to peel it, but the skin was thinner and the inner pulp was more compact than a normal citron. Senkū pried a little piece to carefully nib at it. The taste was perfectly balanced among sweet, bitter, dry and sour... How was that even possible?

Encouraged by the fact that the fruit hadn't immediately poisoned him, but in fact he felt (strangely) already better than before, Senkū cut a larger piece and ate it.

As he munched, his brain silently processed the details his eyes were gathering while scanning around. On the doormat of his hut there weren't evident signs of either hands, paws or claws dragged on the thin layer of dust, just the imprint of the citrus-like berry pushed forward. The woven curtain had been slightly moved from where Senkū had left it, evidence that something (or someone) had moved it back and forth. Gingerly the boy leaned forward and took a hem of the cloth and sniffed it, finding the scent of fresh grass and the tang of the citron.

Fresh grass? The woven curtain had dried too long ago to give off that odor. ...A clue then?

Carefully, he peeked out to see if the culprit could still be around, but either it wasn't or it wasn't evident... Ah no, it was the latter: the feeling of being watched was there once again.

His benefactor was his stalker, then.

The scientist frowned as he scanned the foliage better, to try to identify if there was anything out of place, but the greenery didn't shift or have color anomalies. Was the stalker like a leaf insect or a camouflaged Navy SEAL?

− If you want a "Thank you", it's ten-thousand percent more logical to be face to face, ya know? − Senkū sassed loudly, trying to coerce his target out, wherever it was.

The teen waited five minutes exactly as he leaned on the hinges of the door, munching the citron-like fruit, but no response came. ...If they didn't want to come out but only leave fruits on his doorstep, he could only file the event away for now. New clues were needed.

Senkū sighed, meal finished, then gingerly he stood, surprisingly without the dizziness he was expecting. The content of fructose of the fruit hadn't been high enough to justify a recovery this speedy. His body still needed time to digest and absorb the simple sugars, so there had to be something more inside that was assimilable more rapidly.

This was so exhilarating!

From that moment, whenever he felt the eyes of the stalker, Senkū talked. He explained his tools, the process to make or use them, what he was trying to do (AKA survive and try to find the perfect solution to de-petrify the sparrows), little history trivia and sometimes (when he felt particularly exhausted, since in his right mind he wouldn't be tooth-rotting yearning) he would even tell Byakuya-related snapshots. The teen noticed that, when he always sobered (read: brooded) after one of the latter tales, he felt that the presence had moved somehow nearer to where he was sitting.

Could it be... that the stalker needed "reassurances" that Senkū wasn't dangerous? But how would the stories about his weird-ass old man catalogue him as less dangerous? They could have been fakes to lure the stalker out!

Senkū would have to point that out loud when he and the stalker met face to face. He needed only one Taiju, after all.

ε=くᵕ草)൭

Three moon cycles had passed since the human had collapsed the first time and since then, the "stalker" that shared that patch of forest increased her activity of scrutiny.

How couldn't she? For being one of the mightiest mythological beings, this leek could barely take care of itself!

Sure, during the first moon cycle after hatching from stone, it had demonstrated to be resourceful and capable of avoiding poisoning and dangers, but… it was evident that it lacked stamina. Being resilient was one of the most important qualities to survive in the forest. Maybe humans were really pack-creatures like Auntie had told her and this was the runt of the litter.

If so, it was her sacred duty to provide for it, above all since it was her fault it had hatched in the first place.

You see, that infamous day, she had had a nasty case of stomachache, causing her to hurl or burp without warning. After a particularly loud belch, the statue near her had begun cracking, prompting her escape.

Up, hidden inside a tree foliage, she had witnessed the birth of the Leek. Had the noise been so loud that the shell had cracked?

The movements of the new being had been slow and careful as it collected its stone-shells and rocks to circumscribe the place where it had been born. Why would it do that? To come back later and lay the eggs of the next generation? Auntie had told her that there were animals that did that, maybe humans were the same.

It got to work after that: it covered itself, smashed rocks that became tools and after a while it lit a fire. Had that been Ember? …No, it had needed external utensils to manage that feat, those capable of using that move had usually inbuilt methods.

Its work didn't end with that, though: in just a quarter of a moon cycle it was able to build a nest and get food… Or at least enough for a day and half, then start again. While the Leek tried to hoard as much food as it could, everything it found was perishable or was consumed not long after picking it. The stone humans were generally bigger then her, so it was evident how they needed more food to survive. It worried her how this runt was struggling to eat, despite its intelligence and resourcefulness.

When the Leek one day didn't come out soon after dawn as it usually did, she dared to peek through a hole on the upper cover. It was laying in a corner, bundled up in furs, and was breathing laboriously. Was it sick?! Cautiously she extended a vine through the hole and tentatively brushed its forehead. …It didn't wake up, so, embolden, she rested the tip of the vine on the skin, feeling for the first time its warmth.

It wasn't either as smooth as her scales or as soft as Auntie's fur, but its skin was squishy and not too hot. Not fever then. Then what…?

A growl echoed inside the nest, making her startle and retract the vine. That wasn't a cry it had ever made or Auntie had ever mimicked to teach her the human language. Was it a threat?

The Leek curled on itself and moaned, face scrunched in pain. The odd growl came again, but this time she recognized what it was: an empty belly. The hatchling was hungry! …It had fallen a lot lately, so it was too exhausted to go and find food.

She sighed deeply, but then she made up her mind: time to break her secret stash. Before it could wake completely, she left the most energetic berry in her possession beyond the entrance of its nest and went back to observe it through the hole. She had been right, it was barely able to move because of the hunger. However it was demonstrating yet again that it was a smart hatchling , because it studied then gave a little taste at the fruit, to test if it was dangerous.

Why did it sniff the opening of its nest, though? Did it… smell her on it? Was it actually capable of that feat? When it got out and didn't look up at her even if she was upwind, she confirmed that no, it couldn't, but had tried to nonetheless.

− If you want a "Thank you", it's ten-thousand percent more logical to be face to face, ya know? – The Leek cried out loud.

Did it really want to see her? It was her impromptu hatchling, sure, but was it really safe? She hadn't made it imprint on her, after all. That was a principle Uncle had stressed out. Maybe she should have stayed near it back then.

So, no. She would observe it until she was sure it wouldn't retaliate. Uncle had called it "domestication process", i.e. to leave food and slowly approach animals until they became affectionate or friendly. Uncle had said that he had domesticated his hawks this way.

During the following two moon cycles, she left a not as energetic berry as the first beyond the opening of its nest every three days. Sure, it would put a dent on her food stash, but if she domesticated the human, it would provide a better shelter than hers and maybe body heat during the cold season. That… that was the deadline.

She hadn't put into account the rainy season in between. A storm (so strong that probably only Auntie's Nephew was able to generate) crashed down on the forest, pelting the trees with heavy rain and lighting the skies with scorching thunderbolts.

She managed to recover her secret stash, before it could be swept away by the flooding, and stuffed it into a duffel bag Uncle had taught her to create with grass and bamboo.

The only safe place for her was the Leek's nest at the moment. She had seen the human fortify it at the sight of the black clouds, so probably it knew how to face the fury of the elements.

St least she had already started her approach maneuvers long ago while the Leek was talking of its sire. It seemed always at its calmest when it spoke of him, so she thought that those were the safest moments to come nearer. And if she wanted to hear those tales better, it was nobody's business.

Sneakily but hurriedly, she slithered up the trunk and paused at the entrance, peeking through the cloth to be sure that the Leek wouldn't notice her presence so soon. Luck was on her side apparently, because the human was as bundled as the time it had been starving and out like a light.

She tiptoed in, dropped her duffel bag beside the water filled utensil (which the Leek had called "pot"), then shook the droplets from her scales. There, she felt warmer already.

A strong gale seemed determined to prove her otherwise and the following shudder made her quake. She needed a better cover. That was why, throwing all caution to the wind, she slithered inside the Leek's fur bundle and nestled there, just pausing enough to confirm that she hadn't awaken it.

It was a smart hatchling, it wouldn't attack her immediately if it even did.

Д乀(◉科学◉)ノД

The song of storms still raged outside of his hut when Senkū woke up, but he felt warm and content, so he wasn't really in hurry to get out.

The teen shuffled a bit, tightening his arms around his torso to keep himself warm, but he paused as he realized that there was an unknown mass nestled against his chest and said mass had just squirmed in response of his hold.

Had an animal taken refuge in his hut and then, when found the nearest source of heat, it had headed there?

Cautiously, Senkū opened an eye and slowly uncurled, peeling the upper part of his sleeping bag. In the dim light he could make out scales (maybe green and yellow from their sheen), which covered the teardrop shape of a head. A tree-bound snake? Other reptiles hardly had that kind of skull morphology, but this one was too big and had at least four protrusions in the upper part of its body. Were they sensory organs or limbs? Maybe the pair nearer its neck was he former while the other was the latter, it would be more anatomically logical after all.

The creature shivered and curled into a ball, still using Senkū's arm as a pillow. That movement revealed another pair of appendages and the shape of its tail… which ended similarly to a whale fin, but with an extra prong at the center. Which evolutionary purpose did this lizard-like animal gain from such morphology?

Above all, why did it seem so familiar? What was he missing?

Slowly Senkū covered it again, trying not to startle it awake. It hadn't harmed him while crawling inside, it wouldn't hurt him in the immediate future. He had to think: where had he encountered something similar? The scientist used his free hand to cover his mouth with a fist, getting a whiff of a smell that had become frequent recently: fresh grass.

This was the stalker?!

…Its coat could camouflage well with the foliage, so this was why he hadn't been able to identify it while it was hiding.

Okay, Senkū, think. This animal, since is my stalker, has proven superior intelligence by providing non-poisonous food when I was starving, plus said food isn't common around here. So either it commutes between here and the place where those plants grow or those are incredibly rare or they bloom and mature in specific periods. …No, the first hypothesis is improbable, it's illogical for either animal or human to commute from an ideal location just to observe someone that isn't a prey or a threat. The third is unlikely as well: if the fruits were seasonal, since in spring and now summer I haven't still spotted them, they should mature in autumn or winter, but the gifts were too fresh for this hypothesis to work. Senkū paused, going back specifically to the gifted fruits.

The first one had been that citron-like, while the following ones were a spicy fig-like fruit, a dry buttered lilac berry, a sweet yellow-peach comma-shaped berry, a sour yellow-reddish papaya-like fruit and last a bitter guava-like berry. The last one had made him dizzy, so he had thrown it away, but then he had never seen it again.

It knew it wasn't good for me, so it avoided to bring me one again. Another prove of its intelligence! …however reptiles aren't usually this perceptive. The class "aves", i.e. the birds, that descended from them have more developed brains and some of them have the intellect of three or seven years old humans. Maybe this is a new branch that developed during this "time skip"? But if that's so, why does this look so familiar? And why don't I remember where I saw it since I have an eidetic memory? Think, Senkū, think! What are you dismissing or not considering? Have you checked all your sources? Myths, urban legends, fairy tales, something that that big oaf of Taiju would have told you, maybe even Yuzuriha…! He stopped as that name sparkled a (fond) memory.

Back in middle school, Taiju had "forced" Senkū to help him study for the end of term exams. The scientist had graciously allowed the girl (his friend) to join them too, because it was ten thousand times more logical to "waste" time for two people in one go since both needed a tutor. After one intensive session, the three had deflated on the carpet to get a second wind, so Yuzuriha had taken out of her bag a 3DS and had started to play a game that had immediately caught the interest of both boys, but for different reasons. Taiju for the plot and the theme of friendship, Senkū for the collectibles and the strategies. It had been as good as Monster Hunter and it had been about monsters too, just… another kind of monsters. Pocket-able monsters.

The teen jolted at the revelation, suddenly connecting all the dots: the strange fruits were Berries (Sitrus, Figy, Wiki, Mago, Iapapa and Aguav respectively) and the fresh grass scent of his stalker was proper of a literal Grass Type. But not any Grass Type…

‒ Tsutarja*²…! ‒ Senkū breathed, awed, peeking under the cloth of his sleeping bag, where a tired red irises gleamed back at him, still clouded by doziness.

The Pokémon blinked twice, but, as soon as realization dawned on it, it sprang out of the sleeping bag, a couple of vines sprouting from its upper appendages to add limbs to defend itself in case Senkū decided to attack it. It stopped a couple of meters from him, however it made no move to either attack or flee, it just stared at him, vines raised but not poised to attack.

The two stayed still, observing one another as the back of Senkū's mind unoccupied by studying the creature's behavior was still reeling on the whole concept of Pokémon existing.

It was just a game, how?!

Σく•́草)൭

Tsutarja stared up at the Leek whose expression was so full of disbelief and wonder that it stuck odd to her. The human had never displayed such emotion for the world around, even if it was a hatchling. Why was she the most amazing thing? Not that she wasn't amazing, Auntie had often praised her for her intelligence, but this was another level of awe.

‒ …Do you understand me? ‒ The Leek asked carefully, face slowly turning into a blank mask. It wanted to know if communication was manageable with her. This was a rather promising start, so she nodded. ‒ Is your name Tsutarja?

That development startled her, but nodded even if with wide eyes. How did the human know that? At that doubt her expression closed in a frown and she gestured at him with a vine and a hum of inquiry.

‒ I'm Senkū, a human. ‒ The Leek guessed wrongly her question, but the gesture had been too vague for it to deduce. ‒ Are there others like you around?

Other Tsutarja? No. Other quirked creatures? Yes. Therefore she patted a paw on her chest twice then shook her head. Afterward she twirled a vine in big loop and she nodded.

‒ …Not the same species, but same family or Type? ‒ The human translated, making her nod, proud of her hatchling. Time to try something. She pointed at it, followed by patting her chest again and an inquiry noise. Tsutarja could almost hear the Klinklangs turn inside the human's head at how much it was thinking. ‒ How did I know your name? ‒ It tried, so she nodded resolutely.

The Leek (she knew its name was Senkū, but until she knew it had been certainly domesticated, she would think of it as "the Leek") sighed, scratching its head.

‒ It's complicated. Some things aren't clear even to me, so I don't have a ten thousand percent solid explanation. ‒ It shuffled a bit out of its covers to sit up properly, moving slowly, probably to avoid unsettling her. Silly hatchling, she had seen how weak it was without available tools, it wasn't a threat. She was still in a "on guard" stance just because Uncle had always suggested that a display of strength (even if just theatrical) was good during negotiations.

Tsutarja made an insistent grunt, which wavered a bit as a shudder shook her. Right: she had nestled with the human because it was warm.

‒ You can come back here, you know? You're a cold bloodied species and if you're worried about me attacking you, it would be one millimeter logical to harm you in any way, since you're a vital source of information and food. You know how to cultivate the berries you left me after all, right? ‒ It declared, a bit smug, like a strutting male Kenhallow*³.

The unbidden comparison made her slightly snort, but she nodded nonetheless. She should ask its gender sooner or later, Uncle had told her that that made the behavior change accordingly along the seasons differently.

Tentatively Tsutarja pit-patted closer, shortening her vines a bit, but nothing in the Leek's behavior suggested that it was preparing to pounce, so she climbed on the bundle, then stole one of the fur covers and wrapped herself. With a still uncovered vine she gestured again between them, repeating the insistent grunt.

‒ Right, it's only fair. You answered all my questions up until now. ‒ The human wrapped himself in another cloth. ‒ Remember how once while you were spying me I told you that humanity had turned into stone long time ago? ‒ Of course she did, but it hadn't made sense back then as much as it did now.

Many of the hatchling's tales were so fantastical that it made her think that it had a wonderful active imagination. The only episodes she felt truly genuine were the ones about its sire, but even those had some strange elements. Creatures like her, Auntie, Uncle and their relatives were aware of the world around even while inside their egg, but they were eggs for the outside world. The tales of the Leek and its sire were instead filled with banters and interactions.

…Maybe this "turning into stone" wasn't so farfetched after all. Did this meant that the Leek wasn't really a hatchling after all? …It was something to reflect upon later, better concentrate on the present matters right now, so she nodded at its question.

‒ Back then, ‒ it continued, ‒ there were many ways to entertain yourself, like reading and watching fictional tales or playing games. ‒ It made sense, Auntie's cousin taught her how to sing and dance for when she was bored. She even lent her a book once (after teaching her how to read of course). ‒ One of those games were about your Phyla, i.e. a category of creatures different from "standard" animals and plants. They called you pocket monsters, in short Pokémon. An acquaintance of mine introduced me to the series and I became proficient with its mechanisms and lore, so this is why I know what you are. However I have one millimeter of an idea of how this is possible. ‒ The human sighed frustrate and used a hand to rub the black marking on its forehead. ‒ This is as much as a mystery as the petrification of humanity.

Oh, so there were things that the Leek didn't know. It seemed to be interested in discovering the unknown and also to believe in fairness, so probably she could stuck a deal with it.

Tsutarja hummed to gain its attention and, as soon as crimson eyes met their mirrors, she pointed at him, then at her and intertwined her two vines. She waited until realization shined onto its face and morphed into (barely concealed) excitement.

‒ You want us to collaborate? ‒ It asked. The nod she gave it was firm and pleased. ‒ Based on which accounts? What can you offer me and what do you want from me?

Right, the (not-so) hatchling was pragmatic and went straight to the point. Tsutarja slithered out of the cover and retrieved her duffel bag, bringing it back onto the bundle were she wrapped herself back up. Opening the cargo, she took out a peach-like fruit, confident that if the Leek really knew about her kind and the gifts that the Earth-serpent had given them it would recognize it.

‒ Ah, a Peach Berry. Does it work on any kind of poisoning? ‒ The human asked, unable to stop itself.

Tsutarja shrugged, not really knowing the answer, and put away the berry, closing the duffel bag afterwards. She patted it twice and gestured at the two of them repeatedly. After that she placed a paw on the side of her head, tapping it, next she pointed at the Leek and mimed talking followed by indicating herself.

‒ So, you'll share with me your Berries and your knowledge. ‒ She confirmed serious. ‒ In exchange of what?

Her vines gestured all around the nest (furs included) then stopped towards the human, pausing pointedly on it for few a few seconds and subsequently intertwined her vines.

‒ I can understand my hut, it's a better shelter that whatever you can find outside, but what do you mean you want to share me with me? ‒ The Leek demanded indignantly.

Tsutarja huffed exasperatedly and slinked out of her bundle to reach the human's and grab its hem. She raised it and slithered inside, sighing in relief at the significantly warmer temperature, all the while ignoring her "heater's" splutters and half-hearted protests.

‒ …Ah. ‒ It muttered dryly. ‒ You're more interested in my body heat. Plants and cold bloodied creatures don't go well with the cold after all. ‒ The upper part of the canopy opened a bit to let the Leek peek at her.

Tsutarja glared at it, displeased by the gale, but nodded nonetheless.

‒ Being touchy-feely and cuddly isn't my thing, but I guess that sacrifices must be made in the name of Science and knowledge. ‒ The human snarked without any real venom behind its words.

Ah. So this is what Auntie's Aunt meant when she called someone a "tsundere". I thought that only Auntie's son was one of them, but it seems that humans could be too. Tsutarja mused, huffing at its gibe. Time to deal with that like Auntie did with her son.

The Grass Snake Pokémon patted patronizingly its chest and curled on herself to find a more comfortable position on its lap, retreating her vines.

‒ Oy, are you mocking me? ‒ The human poked her with a finger, so she leveled it with a "I would never!" look that she was certain it could see through, but chose to ignore. ‒ Fine, you smartass. You have a deal. ‒ It offered her an open palm.

Tsutarja shuffled a bit and took the offered hand that carefully closed around her paw in what Auntie's Pibling*⁴ taught her was a "handshake".

A thunder shook the Leek's (Senkū's) nest, making the duo flinch at the sudden noise.

‒ Well, today I wasn't planning on doing anything with the monsoon out there. How about finding a ten thousand more efficient way to communicate between us? ‒ The human asked off-handily, trying to hide the excitement building in its voice. Not that Tsutarja was different, she had always loved to learn (and that was one of the reasons why she was one of the favorite nieces among Auntie's relatives), so she nodded eager to begin.

Their collaboration was going to be so exciting!

*¹ Pretend that it's a barred/cancelled word, FF doesn't let me use that effect.

*²Snivy. Senkū is Japanese (as all the other characters will be), so it's only logical to use the original localized name. If other Pokémon appear in the future, the same logic will apply.

*³ Unfeazant.

*⁴Gender-neutral for aunt/uncle.

A/N. Here it comes Senkū's partner! Did you expect Snivy or somebody else?

I chose her because she's versatile, even if her movepool is limited. Moreover, because of that, Senkū won't be too OP during the plot and there won't be any shortcuts in the roadmaps (or at least not evident ones like any other Pokémon that learn Thunderbolt/Flamethrower/etc. would have had), which are one of the main reasons I found Dr. STONE interesting. I'm curious to hear what you think! ｡◕‿‿◕｡

Anyway, I swear that the concept of Pokémon Games existing before the respective physical pokémon were born has an actual explanation (that will be revealed during the plot obviously) so please bear with me for a while. (シ_ _)シ

What's that Berry? Did you guess them before Senkū did? If so, a cybernetic mochi for you! ( ˘▽˘)っ◍

And Who's that Pokémon? Everyone of Tsutarja/Snivy's relatives are Pokémon, try to guess who is which. (─‿‿─)

I hope I represented Senkū's character well, I love him, so I care about if his portrait was or not OOC. What do you think?

As usual I thank you for all your favorites, follows and views, I hope for reviews as well, the feedback is what we writers feed on (get it? (๑ゝڡ◕๑) ).

Type ya soon!