I didn't expect to put 50 hours into Pokemon X over the past week. I had set off that time block for Dark Souls 2, then promptly saw those plans waylaid by a combination of Twitch Plays Pokemon and a sale on Pokemon X.

I was surprised I enjoy this "children's game" with its roots in the Tamagotchi craze over 15 years ago so much. It's a solid game in a neglected subgenre nestled between RPGs and pet simulators. It simultaneously satisfies my desire for interesting mons and strategic battles; every pokemon I captured because I "liked how it looked" ended up filling a useful niche in my party. The Super Training (get into the nitty-gritty of tweaking your pokemons' stats) and Pokemon-Amie (spend time petting & feeding your pokemon) modes emphasize this duality of strategy & pathos, the constant conflict (and attempts to reconcile) having the team you want and the team you need.

It wasn't long until I began getting attached to some of my pokemon. My starter pokemon, the firefox, was a cute little bugger. My mature stoicness quickly melted after I fed him a few treats and scratched his ears. If I held the 3DS far enough back for the camera to register my face, he would tilt his head when I tilted mine. Such damn basic responses, combined with a bit of animated personality, still reminded me of my old pets. That feeling got stronger as I captured more pokemon that reminded me of... something. A Lucario that kept wanting to duel me. A Lapras I always wanted to hug I nicknamed "Nessie". An Amaura that had a haunting trill for its cry. A Disaster Hound that reminded me of an old friend...

Years ago, I had a dog named Trouble. She got her name after an exasperating week of dealing with her as a puppy; it stuck. I still remember the feel of her fur, the way she ran around on three legs (she lost one when a car hit her on the highway; we were just happy she survived), the dopey grin on her face... Trouble seemed like the perfect name for the Disaster Dog I captured, and I found myself reminiscing whenever I sent her into battle or scratched her ears. When I played the original Pokemon Red in my childhood, surrounded by a dozen dogs & cats, I never quite got the draw of it. I don't know if it's the improved emphasis on playing with your pokemon, or the fact all my old pets have died and I've been in apartments where pets aren't allowed ever since, but Pokemon hit me hard in the gut. I felt like the critic in Ratatoille, smashed by a wave of nostalgia from what was supposed to be something simple & trite. Silly? Perhaps. As silly as a kid's bond with a pet...

Somehow, Pokemon did this right. It might be the animal-based designs, or their background as natural parts of the world, or the simplistic plot of a young boy traveling the world with his friends, or even the fact they don't actually speak, but Pokemon nails the strong bonds between a kid and his pets. It avoids the dual threats of treating the mons as amazingly fantastical creatures, thus divorcing it too much from reality (like other mons RPGs), and removing all danger from the experience until the pets are simple playthings (like other pet simulations). It represents the way kids imagine their relationship with their pets. It's an all-too-rare feeling in games, and the most unique thing about Pokemon.

So where can it evolve from here? More than the usual "add more Pokemon" approach, I think Nintendo should double-down on making the Pokemon feel more alive. I want my mons to have a few quirks and odd rivalries/friendships I have to take into account, just like when you have multiple pets in the same space. I want the vague bookkeeping aspects, like storing and releasing pokemon, fleshed out to the point you start caring about what you do to them, too. I want more reasons to give up absolute combat efficiency in order to be a better caretaker for my mons. I want Pokemon to remind me more of my youth, when it was me, my pets, and treks together into the backwoods...