Look at you, all dressed up in your brand new cargo shorts, pride written all over your shiny vest, anticipation pooling in your large, doey eyes under the brim of your brightly coloured hat. Your backpack a steadying weight on your shoulders, pokeballs reassuring against your hip. You're excited to make your mark on the world even if it means scuffing your new shoes with its dirt. You can't wait to become the very best, the best that nobody ever was. I imagine that they told you, you were special, you could do it, that there was nothing to worry about. I imagine they told you all you had to do was explore the world and defeat those who are of higher skill level, those who stand in your way.
Of course they did, you are but a child.
You're leaving the house now, thrusting yourself out into the world. You forget to brand your parent's smiling faces into your memory. Of course you forget, you are but a child. You're under the delusion that you'll be back before all of you know it. You'll be back and you'll have achieved your dreams.
You're walking down the well-trodden path; you don't notice your mother's smile break down into a look of pure anxiety. Her shoulder's tremble with barely conceived sobs. Your father grabs her hand and squeezes it. She's not sure if it's to be reassuring or threatening. She can hear his words in his grasp around her hand, bringing back the memory of an argument in the kitchen. She squeezes her eyes shut. We don't have a choice! We can barely afford all of our expenses as it is. This child is our only chance.
Never mind that only a handful of children made it to the top of the ever growing and ever gruesome dog pile. Never mind that most kids made it back home disheartened, depressed, their childish enthusiasm never really a thing that came back with them. Never mind that most kids suffered trauma from multiple kidnappings. Never mind that most kids witnessed near death experiences for themselves, for their friends, for their pokemon.
Never mind that most kids were lucky to make it back home in the first place.
She sucks in a shuttering breath. They need the money. Your dad is in a field of research – a field not known for money making. Your mom is able to bring in some semblance of income, being an expert breeder. But it is simply not enough. The only other options are battling or participating in less than ethical actions. Both of which are illegal, of course. They are sending you off not because they want you to explore the world.
They are sending you off because the law tends to be lenient to those who are not yet of age.
Eventually, your form disappears behind the horizon and your parents retreat back inside the house to figure out how they will survive the following years.
Yes child, you will be gone for a long, long time.
For now, the least of your worries will be knowing if you'll be home in time for dinner.