A Star is Reborn by Minior-anon

“Phew, finally got out of there. Now, just need to make it home by the time the game starts, and everything will be great.”

It was a day like any other. Our protagonist had just finished his daily ritual of slaving away from 9 to 5, earning just enough money to get through the month. He checked his watch as he slowly made his way to the bus station. He clicked his tongue as the numbers 6:30 flashed before his eyes. He wasn't a particularly social guy, but a coworker celebrating a birthday in the office wasn't something he could just leave immediately. Besides, they brought pizza, so he didn’t have to worry about tonight’s dinner. Well, not that it would’ve been much different, as he lived alone, and cooking for one person just didn’t seem worth it. It was far easier to call up the nearby pizza place and enjoy food prepared by someone far more skilled than he was. Last time he tried cooking, he somehow managed to burn the rice he was boiling, and—

“Mama, it's almost here! Look, look, the choo-choo is coming!”

His bus of thought was interrupted by the excited yell of a child much too eager to announce to everyone that the bus was arriving. The kid wore a Pikachu backpack, reminding our protagonist of his own childhood hobby. The “Pokémania,” as it was called, hadn't spared him. No, he had been a primary victim—or more accurately, his parents had been. He fondly remembered begging his mom for a gigantic Snorlax plushie, claiming he wouldn’t be able to sleep without it. Or how he dominated everyone on the playground with his trusty Chansey stall deck when they played the trading card game. He had been on the verge of becoming a Pokémaniac, but his best friend had saved him by convincing him to join the soccer team. Man, he really should text that friend and thank him over a beer, because looking back, he certainly would’ve been bullied like the other nerds who openly flaunted their love for a series they had technically outgrown.

As he boarded the bus and sat by the window, he took out his phone, put in his headphones, opened up Spotify, and gazed outside as lo-fi music began to lull him to sleep. He blinked once, twice, and then his eyelids became too heavy to lift. He was a serial bus napper, and he knew there was no harm in a quick 15-minute nap on his way home. As he drifted into shallow sleep, his mind conjured images of him playing soccer as a kid. He couldn’t make out the other players, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he scored and had fun. He kicked the soccer ball as hard as he could, sending it soaring into the sky.

As he sent the ball flying, the ground shook, and a wave of heat began to creep all over his body. The flying ball ascended higher and higher until it stopped in the middle of the sky and began glowing white, right next to the sun. The sun then abruptly moved downward, setting in an instant. The light blue sky transitioned to orange. Orange to pink. Pink to a crimson red and ultimately to a dark navy blue. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the rapid change of the sky. And in the center of it was the former soccer ball. Another blink, and the ball shrank, turning into a star. With every blink, more stars appeared in the sky, filling it with shimmering, glistening lights. Even when he looked down, all he could see was the vastness of space and the celestial bodies it held.

Wait, there was no ground.

A sudden wave of anxiety washed over him as he realized that solid ground no longer existed. He tried to turn or step forward, backward—anywhere—but his feet wouldn’t move. Panicked, he looked down, wondering why his legs were paralyzed. A second wave of fear hit him as he realized he couldn’t see or feel his feet at all.

And then, he started falling.

“Oh shit! What the fuck?!”

His heart raced as primal instincts kicked in, warning him that he was plummeting to his death. The stars surrounding him grew faint as he accelerated.

But wait, he was dreaming. There was no real danger.

I mean, we’ve all experienced that sensation of falling as we drift off to sleep. This was probably the same thing. He would wake up any minute.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself and breathe. The falling would stop soon, and he’d open his eyes. The kid in the bus would still be pestering his mom about Pokémon. The bus’s announcement system would declare his stop in that robotic voice. His cat would pounce on him as soon as he got home, demanding treats. Yeah, everything would be fine. He smiled and slowly began to open his eyes.

“I should’ve gone home earlier... Fuck my life…”

He was still falling.

And he kept falling.

Until he hit the ground.

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„Wake up you stupid rock!! Look at what you've done! You've ruined everything!“

A small Dolliv schreeched as it repeatedly hit the shell of a Minior that had just crashed directly onto it's cart and smashed it to pieces. No matter how many times the Dolliv's small arms hit the shell, the Minior wouldn't budge. As it continued it's futile efforts of moving the rock pokemon, tears started forming in it's eyes. The cart was broken now and the crate that it was transporting was smashed as well. A puddle of berry juice was all that was left of the cart inventory.

„And just when I had the perfect batch of berries to sell to that sleazy Keckleon. Oh god, what am I going to do, what am I going to do…“

After some time the Dolliv's hands stopped. It just sat there, defeated. Until a crack formed on the shell and a light green leek started peeking through. The Dolliv jumped back and observed the crack slowly spreading. It shielded it's eyes and slwoly approached the scene of the crime again. The shell had almost fully cracked and one good whack from the Dolliv did the job.

Crack.

From it's former shell a green ball slowly flew up and sporadicaly spun in place. It didn't seem to know how to properly control it's movements, so the Dolliv grabbed it by the sides and looked straight into what it could persume were it's eyes.

„Good morning sweetie. How was your nap?“

„W-W… WHa? Fine?“

What the fuck is happening? What the fuck is this thing? What does it want?
A flood of questions raced through the Minior's mind as he slowly regained consciousness. The last thing he remembered was him dreaming. And now a talking olive creature is holding his head? No, not his head, his body? It felt weird. He tried to look, but his head wouldn't move down.

„Hey, quit struggling! What's wrong with you? And what do you mean fine. The only fine you're getting is for destroying my merchandise!“

I'm still dreaming, huh. There was no other explenation for what was happening otherwise.

„Uhm… I'm sorry for... destroying your merchandise?“

The Dolliv gave a quick smile, even though it certainly wasn't happy.

„Oh, well gee that's great. That solves everything then!“

„Really?“, the Minior said. This dream really was a weird one when resolving it meant all you needed to do was apologise.

„No, not really! Did getting out of your shell make you retarded or something? Seriously, where do they make idiots like you…“

„If you're asking where I'm from, I'm from Zaječar…“

„Hah? ...Do you think I'm stupid or something?“, the Dolliv replied, clearly annoyed by the nonsensical answer.

„No?“

*„Then don't make up random places, seriously where are you from? Or rather, which continent? You won't be getting away scott free either way so stop making shit up.“-

„I mean, Europe?“

The Dolliv was dumbfounded. What was this Minior talking about. Even for a joke it wasn't funny anymore.

„Listen, I'll pay you back whatever I owe you, just let me get to my apartment and I'll give you the cash, however much you need. My backpack only has a few hundred dinars, so I'm a bit short. Where's the nearest bus station? Actually, where are we?“

Ok, something was definetly wrong with this Minior. First, from the funny names, then to the strange words it used and now it didn't even know where it was? The merchandise can come later, I need to help this nutjob snap back to reality first. The Dolliv took a deep breath.

„I'll leave the matter of you ruining my cart and merchandise for later. seeing how you might have brain damage from your fall. First thing first, my name is Alex, what's yours?“

My name. My name is… Wait, what IS my name? The Minior started panicking internally as Alex asked it for it's name. It couldn't remember. Why? It could remember where it was from and all the other thing that were important to it's identity like being a man, working a 9 to 5 job and having a cat. But no matter how hard it tried, it couldn't remember it's name.

„I… don't know…“

Great, so not only is he a lunatic, he's also an amnesiac lunatic. Buy one, get one free! The Dolliv sighed, not expecting the stranger not to even know it's name.

„I'll call you Rocky then, okay?“

„Rocky? Ok, but why, that's a really random name…“

„Because you're a Minior? Duh.“

„A Mini-what-now?“

„A Minior? Come on, you don't even know your species? I know you guys aren't the most common pokemon, but you should've hang out with your peers up there.“

„Up… where? And wait, pokemon?“

"I mean, yeah, you guys still are pokemon at the end of the day, you're certainly not humans. And you're asking up where..."

Alex takes Rocky and lifts him up towards he night sky. Seriously, how clueless can this guy be?
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„Up there in space, duh.“