[Manila – Late Night]
Rain hit the café window like it had a grudge. The place smelled like burnt espresso and wet jackets.
Andres Ilustre stirred his coffee slowly — not because he wanted to drink it, but because he was 90% sure it was the only thing keeping him from flipping the table.
He glanced at his phone.
Another message from her.
"I'm sorry… it just happened."
He sighed and leaned back in the booth. His tie was half undone, his sleeves rolled up, and his soul somewhere near the recycling bin behind the counter.
Life wasn't bad. It was tired.
Burnt-out job, half-functioning apartment, fake friendships, and now, an ex-fiancée who had "found herself" in the arms of his manager.
Classic.
Andres muttered under his breath, "I should've just opened a damn farm in the province."
The lights flickered once.
Twice.
He blinked.
And the world cut to black.
---
[Somewhere very leafy – Morning]
Andres opened his eyes.
Grass. Dirt. Dew.
And somewhere far, far too close — the sound of something sniffing him.
He groaned. His body felt wrong. Small. Like a busted gacha pull in human form.
He tried to sit up and immediately rolled sideways into a ditch.
"Ow. Okay. What the hell."
He wiped a leaf from his face — or tried to. His arms were... tiny?
"...Am I in a dream?"
sniff sniff
He turns to the sound and saw it.
A brown raccoon-like creature with big cheeks was staring at him.
Andres squinted and tried to clean his eyes but failed.
He thought "...What is that?"
Andres scrambled and tries to stand in his feet, still fails.
"No way. That's a—wait—is that a Zigzagoon? No, wait, not quite—"
The Patrat froze. Then bolted. Then came back with three more Patrat. One had a stick.
Andres, finally upright, stared in disbelief.
"Is that… a Pokémon?"
Cue rock.
Cue stumble.
Cue him tripping over said rock and landing face-first in a bush full of angry Sewaddle.
Cue screaming.