Reborn in Pokemon With Dragon System

John's Point of View

The room was quiet.

Not silent—but quiet in that heavy, expectant way. The kind of quiet that settled in just before a storm or a performance. A stillness with weight behind it.

We were in the study. Or—what Mama called a study. To me, it looked more like a small museum that had forgotten how to be humble.

Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling in shelves carved from dark, ancient wood. The center of the room held a large silver-rimmed table that probably cost more than some small towns. Comfortable armchairs surrounded it, and the air smelled faintly of parchment and polished stone.

Mama and I sat together near the far window, sunlight trickling through the sheer drapes. Lilia stood not far behind us, silent and observant in her uniform, hands folded neatly.

I looked up at Mama, who seemed... tense.

Not afraid. But thoughtful.

Then she noticed my eyes and gave me a soft smile, brushing a hand through my hair.

"We're just waiting for someone important," she said.

I tilted my head.

"Your grandmother."

I blinked. Slowly. "My... grandmother?"

Mama chuckled, the sound a little nervous, a little warm. "Yes. My mother. Aelira Silver."

The name felt heavy when she said it—like it carried meaning I didn't understand yet.

"She's... well," Mama continued, glancing toward the door, "she's a strong woman. One of the strongest Pokémon trainers of her generation, and the matriarch of the Silver family."

Matriarch.

That word hung in the air.

"She's kind," Mama added quickly, "and a great mother. A bit much at times—intense, sharp, always three steps ahead—but she'll love you. I'm sure of it."

She looked down at me, her expression softening.

"She'll love you, my beloved star."

I looked away at that. My face felt warm again.

And that was when the door opened.

A servant stepped inside, bowed with practiced ease, and spoke calmly. "Mistress Silver has arrived."

Then he stepped aside.

And the room changed.

A woman entered.

Not old, but not young either. She had the kind of presence that made age irrelevant. Her long black hair flowed past her back, streaked subtly with strands of silver that glimmered under the light like starlight woven through ink. She wore a tailored silver dress that stopped just above the knees, with matching shoes that clicked against the polished floor. Every step she took echoed with quiet power.

She looked... sharp. Intimidating. Elegant. Her eyes—steely and unreadable—swept across the room in a single, assessing motion.

And then she saw Mama.

Mama stood up. Slowly.

Their eyes locked.

"...Mother," Mama said, voice steady but tight.

"...Daughter," the woman answered. Her voice was cool, calm, but not cold.

The air felt like it shifted. Like the gravity in the room got heavier. Like something electric sparked in the silence between them.

For a moment, they didn't move.

And then—like someone had flipped a switch—they both ran forward at the same time.

No hesitation.

No more words.

Just two women—mother and daughter—colliding in a tight, powerful embrace.

I saw Mama bury her face into her mother's shoulder.

I saw Aelira wrap her arms around her like she'd been waiting years to do so.

And neither of them let go.

They didn't speak. Didn't need to.

They just stood there, holding each other in the middle of that silver study, the weight of lost time finally melting under the warmth of reunion.

And for the first time since we landed...

It felt like we were home.

They held each other for a long time.

Mama and her mother—my grandmother.

I didn't interrupt. I didn't move. I just watched them cling to one another like time had no meaning, like they were trying to make up for every second lost in that embrace.

Eventually, they pulled apart, though their hands remained linked for a moment longer. Aelira took a slow breath, composed herself...

...and then her eyes flicked over to me.

Her expression lit up like a switch had been flipped.

"Now," she said, voice sharper and way too familiar, "where's my grandbaby?!"

I froze.

Blink.

Double blink.

Wait a minute.

That voice...

In my head, a very specific anime character's voice echoed—one I'd heard in multiple lifetimes. Raspy, commanding, terrifying if raised even half a decibel.

She sounds exactly like Mitsuki Bakugo...

Oh Arceus.

Oh no.

Did I just walk into a real-life Bakugo household?

My body tensed as my survival instincts kicked in.

I may have chewed more than I can handle.

"John," Mama said, looking over at me with a smile that somehow made me feel both safe and deeply, deeply setup, "come introduce yourself."

Right.

Okay. Calm down, John.

I straightened my posture, adjusted my little tuxedo jacket, and walked over with the poise of a perfect little gentleman.

Back straight.

Chin up.

Measured pace.

I stopped in front of her, bowed precisely the way Lilia taught me, and said with practiced formality, "It is an honor to meet you, Lady Silver. My name is John. John Silver."

Perfect delivery.

Textbook.

And for about two full seconds, it worked.

Until she lunged.

"Oh my precious little treasure!" Aelira squealed like a woman half her age as she swooped down and squished me against her chest like I was a limited-edition Mareep plushie.

Air. Gone. Gone in an instant. Dignity? Also gone.

Manners?

Dead.

Slain.

Left behind like a forgotten Pokéball.

"M-Mama—!" I wheezed, muffled by fabric and perfume.

But it was far from over.

Because then—then—she stepped back with sparkling eyes and said the words that would haunt me for the rest of my short, betrayed life.

"I want to see if what your mother said is true," she said with glee, "that you purr like an Eevee!"

...

Excuse me?

I turned my head toward Mama slowly—like a haunted Yamask looking into its own mask.

She had the nerve to look away. Trying not to laugh.

You. Sold. Me. Out.

Betrayal.

Ultimate, heart-wrenching betrayal.

I saw my entire two-year-old life flash before my eyes in one long parade of naps, cartoons, and false security.

"Let's test it!" Grandma said with wild delight.

I tried. I really tried.

I held my breath. I tensed every muscle in my body. I clenched my jaw and willed the purr to stay down.

I will not fall here.

But then...

A soft voice.

"Let me help," Lilia said calmly as she approached—cool, composed, the picture of grace.

For one shining second, hope lit in my chest.

She's going to save me.

My ally. My teacher. My dignified guardian in the chaos.

She leaned in beside me.

She reached up slowly.

And then—

She brushed the hair just behind my ear.

That. Spot.

The one that Mama always finds.

The one that turns my brain into pudding.

Prrrrrrrrrr...

The noise escaped me like a curse.

A deep, content, traitorous purr that vibrated through my whole chest.

I melted like a marshmallow in a microwave. Just sagged under the double betrayal of matriarch and maid.

Lilia smiled. "Still works."

Aelira laughed—a full, delighted, regal laugh—and scooped me back into a hug.

"I knew it!"

I gave up.

There was no dignity left to salvage.

The only thought left in my head was:

I'm never going to live this down.