Honestly, Claire didn't really understand the inherent intention in being reborn at all. Whatever deity had placed her in this dimension and time was surely misguided, whether or not on purpose was entirely up to debate. Maybe they wanted to watch a pathetic mortal stumble and fucking die to a Zigzagoon or something. While she wasn't as desolate to have killed herself in her past life, she certainly didn't have the determination and courage to become the 'best trainer' ever in some aborted, self-serving fanfic-style reincarnation into the world of fucking Pokémon.

She didn't even want to live, really. There was no grand adventure and wish to be the Champion waiting in her future. Wasn't there supposed to be? In all the fanfics she had read the trainers were strong, whether they had to be or not. All that she had got from this life so far was the resolve to do away with herself that she didn't have the courage to before. She was too stupid and pathetic to be some legendary trainer, anyway.

Claire was frustrated with it all. She had loved Pokémon when she was interested in it in her last life. That was before everything, of course, but she should've been ecstatic at being reborn into Pokémon. Instead, she was still a null, void as when she had died. Fitting how being in a new life hadn't changed her from being an empty shell of a human, now with the irony of being an orphan child. So that frustration at not being able to be happy grew into more sullenness when the realization of her situation hit her.

The adults were caring in the place she was thrown into as soon as her mother passed. It was funny, in hindsight, at their bewilderment of handling a severely depressed ten-year-old haunting their rooms. They obviously pushed her to do various things: they couldn't neglect her and she was too tired and numb to fight it. She was half tempted to put them out of their misery and kill herself already. Maybe this time she wouldn't be reincarnated. It took months for her to final gather the gall to go through with the decision to take her own life.

That, dear listeners, is where the story starts.

Eating food, taking in a culture she wanted no part in. Orphans' ecstatic for movies the patrons bought for them. The latest action with the coolest Pokémon. Foods she didn't know the name of. Oran berry pies. Regulated cheap soup given to people living off the government because half of their economy was Pokémon battles, so they spent more money on that. Kids making fun of her staying in bed, staying quiet. The kids liked her but were put off by her. They liked how much she knew about Pokémon, the only thing she knew anymore honestly, and how she never was mean to them. They were off put by her heavy and damning presence. Dreams and crying; abandoned children stuck together in a cesspool with heavy intervention by the staff. No one was allowed to be cruel, and they were treated tenderly. Claire had gained the memories of her past life halfway through her eighth year alive. Then, with hilarious cruelness, her mother went to fuck off and die in a boat accident.

Thank God.

Claire could not imagine putting what she remembered to be a kind and dear mother through who her new son was. Fuck, she wasn't even that woman's son anymore. Instead, she was a bitter, suicidal teenager stuck in a ten-year-old boy being pushed to go on a Pokémon journey through the middle of Johto.

"He doesn't get out enough, he doesn't connect to any of the kids, and he barely eats. A journey would be good for him!"

Claire was in denial about it.

Most people had parents to discourage them or welcome them back when they didn't get their first gym badge. Eleven was the youngest age allowed, of course, with heavy guardianship. In the recent years, programs and check-up systems had been created for orphans like her so they would have a chance like any other kid. Even though it was rather pitiful and still unfair, according to the older kids.

Despite what the games implied, most kids left around fourteen or fifteen when their parents let them.

She had been living in that orphanage for a year and a half before she had finally come up with a fruitful plan. Since the orphanage was pushing to get rid of her custody anyway, she could just jump off the bridge overlapping the heavy, raging river, while no one was looking. The calmness that had come with accepting the action was the closest thing to relief she had ever received in this life.

…

When Claire had escaped the clutches of Mary, the infinitely kind matron who was always worried for her enough to make her guilty for what she was about to do, she was exasperated at the Totodile that stared at her solidly from where she had one leg over the railing.

The little guy's beady eyes were staring at her judgmentally. First of all, it was so cute she was going to die. Second of all, fuck off. A small three glowed above his head (and wasn't that a surprise to see the first few times). Claire had been able to do that ever since she gained her past lives memories. No one else in this world could see Pokémon levels, there wasn't any legends about it either, so she very wisely didn't speak about it.

Looking over the Pokémon, she fought the urge to throw herself back over the edge to coo over the baby Pokémon. He was so tiny he must have just hatched! Ultimately, she started to feel like a fucking idiot and shameful of her excitement over seeing the little Pokémon. The rush of initial excitement blowing over pointlessly and she felt even more foolish. What was she, a child?

Well, she looked at the water below and then at the Pokémon staring into her soul. This is awkward.

It was probably embarrassing to see her there. She was so short that it was comical how she was almost upside down trying to throw herself over the railing. Why the fuck was she so short? Why couldn't she just get this over with?

The little crocodile looking shit was watching her. Weren't Totodile a starter in the third gen? Or fourth? She didn't know which one. It was the game with the fire weasels. They weren't in the wild and she assumed it was because they were dangerous. Why the fuck was it just randomly here? The other kids talked about how only approved, rich or experienced, got Pokémon that were starters in the games.

She was doomed to never have a Charizard even if she became a trainer, it seemed. The thought was sardonic and ironic, being she planned to take her life, but it still made her snort.

Claire finally had got to the point where she was balancing on the railway, digging into her bony, self-underfed ass. Looking down at the river gave her a sense of purpose, it was less violent than usual for some ironic reason. This was it. This is what she had been fantasizing about for years, to be at the pinnacle of her new death. Maybe in the next life she would have the sentience of a rock or slug and escape the prison of thought.

When she threw herself forward, small teeth dug into her shirt and yanked her against the peeling poles of the rails. The baby Pokémon was crawling and yipping, too weak to pull her back as she fell forward again, only being held by the grip the Totodile had on her shirt. She squirmed and the adrenaline of falling for a second had her wheezing, her neckline choking her as it prevented her from falling.

She had expected her death to be so swift she wouldn't have to think about it.

"You have to be fucking kidding me." Was all she could grit out, desperately trying to tear her shirt or get the little beast to let her go. The Pokémon growled louder, trying to pull her back but not having the strength to do it.

Was the Totodile seriously trying to save her right now? What was her life even at this point? Finally, she was able to grip behind her and hit the Pokémon awkwardly in the face. She couldn't see what the hell that little fucker was doing, but she still smashed her tiny fist into its snout. She aimed for the eyes but was surprised by how that even though he was a weak, newly hatched baby, the fucker's skin was rougher than hers.

She hates how scared she was, was this Pokémon trying to eat her?

"Fuck off! Let me go!"

Then, as suddenly as she had screamed those words, she was falling down into the raging ravine.

…

Later, when she looks back on how she met her starter, she wished she never had done this at all. She wished she had been able to get over grief and loss sooner, so that she had been able to live with him like he deserved. However, she had been too scared at the time to love and connect again. By the time she did, it was comically too late.