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Question: If you lived in the world of Pokemon, what region would you choose to live in?
My Answer: Hmm. Probably Unova, because of how scenic it is.
Characters: From the POV of pokemon.
Summary: In another life…
Half-Life
~I'm here, it's really painful~
In another life we'll wake up, and there won't be test tubes coming out of our bodies. We won't open our eyes and be met with the scene of needles. We won't be contained, prodded at, used: our venom won't be drained to make medicine. Our spores won't be ripped off for science. Our vines won't be cut off to see if they grow back.
It doesn't matter. We won't be here, we'll be there.
This isn't living, anyway.
000
~I'm desperately looking for you; I even let go of what I have possessed~
In another life we'll wake up, and we won't feel any loneliness. We won't be missing you every single day of our lives, missing the warmth of your embrace and the scene of your smile. We won't be given up for adoption because you were told that you were too young to have us. We won't be taken away by beings with Rs stamped across their chests, or be left behind because those in medieval chain mail said that we were suffering under you. We won't see the blackness surrounding us that signals that you've restarted your game and erased us, throwing us back into the limbo in which we came. We love you, you know. Even after you're gone, we spend every hour of every day wondering if you ever loved us.
It doesn't matter. We won't be here, we'll be there.
This isn't living, anyway.
000
~Winds blow as if it slashed my ears;
My freezing body feels nothing but pain~
In another life we'll wake up, and there won't be any pain. We won't be pushed to our limits every day, every hour, and be expected to win. We won't be forced to fight against those who we hold no qualms against. We won't feel your disapproval radiating off of you when we lose. We won't be given awful nicknames just because of our appearance. We won't be used as pawns to breed you the one that you really want. We won't be taught HMs and then discarded. We won't be trained until our muscles ache; we won't be pushed until our spines snap; we won't be yelled at until our hearts break. We won't be released when you find another, stronger companion. We won't be sent away when we try to come back, because we left our homes and families behind when we met you and we have nowhere else to go.
It doesn't matter. We won't be here, we'll be there.
This isn't living, anyway.
000
~My heart is filled with pains:
If I stumble while running, I can never go back~
So in another life we'll wake up, and there will be the sprawling green fields of home that we never got to grow up in. Our skin will be unmarked, and this reality will be a dream washed away by rain, the realness blurring and streaking down the canvas of life until it circles the drain and is gone. We'll run without fear of stumbling, because if we stumble we'll land in the welcoming arms of our friends, not those who grab us and drag us back into our cage. And that already-fading nightmare of a distant land will plague us every night; we'll wake up shivering, sweating, wide-eyed, each morning thinking that we feel the impression of serums entering our bloodstream.
It doesn't matter. We're here, not there.
That wasn't living, anyway.
000
~I'm here, it's overflowing
I keep bearing this love~
So in another life we'll wake up, and there will be your arms around us when we do. We'll look up to see you, exactly the way we've kept you in our memory for all this time: your warm embrace; your adoring eyes; your doting smile; your love and attention, all focused on us. We won't know the meaning of loneliness, and we'll tell you that we always knew that you loved us, always knew you didn't mean to leave us behind. We won't realise that those nightmares, nightmares of aloneness and misery and self-hate, aren't nightmares at all but memories of what you've done to us.
It doesn't matter. We're here, not there.
That wasn't living, anyway.
000
~If my screams don't reach you,
It's completely unworthy~
So in another life we'll wake up, and our bodies won't be as battered as they were before we met our bloody end. Bruises won't mar our flesh; our claws won't be broken and bloodstained. That tear in our ear will be gone, along with the deafness in it that was caused by that sound-based move that was used on us once. We won't wince in pain every time we move our limbs. There will be no battles to fight, no owner to let down. All we've ever tried to do was make you proud, you know. And yet you never apologized, never did anything but shut your game off and do the battle over again.
It doesn't matter. We're here, not there.
That wasn't living, anyway.