I shiver as I train my loyal pikachu. When I was younger, the heat of passion burned through my veins, keeping me warm. Now, I curse as the howling wind blows more snow onto my tattered jacket.
Damn snow. Damn mountain.
Yet, I can't return home. Not yet. Not until someone beats me.
I'm the best trainer in the world. No, I'm not being cocky. That's just how it is. What no one ever tells you is being the best comes at a price. My whole demeanor has become empathetic toward battling, which used to be my entire life. It grows dull when you already know the outcome before it even begins, though.
I sigh, recalling my pokémon to my side. He squeals in delight, while I pat him on the head.
A shout startles me. I gaze around until gaze falls upon a young boy walking towards me.
"Are you, Red?" he asks in his immature tone.
I nod.
"Battle me!" he challenges.
I groan, but nonetheless consent.
I lost.
Completely tuning out the boy's celebration, I collapse to my knees. I'm free. I can go home and see my mom. See everyone…
Tears stream down my face.
"Are you ok, mister?"
I flash a watery smile, realizing I'm better than ok.
I'm no longer the best.