It had started innocently enough.

The day they parted ways was an exciting day for the both of them. She was going to Johto, and he was going to Sinnoh. They were excited for the new adventures that lay ahead, and they were excited for each other. So when they said goodbye, they were still able to smile at each other. There were no tears, no promises that they would meet again. At the time, they didn't think they were necessary, because they were best friends.

Time passed. He made new friends as he went through Sinnoh, Unova, and Kalos. Not that he ever forgot her; she held a special place in his heart, and he made sure to try and stay in touch with her. But as each chapter of his journey came to a close, he started to notice something. When he went home from Sinnoh, his new friend was visibly torn about saying goodbye to him. When he parted ways with his friends from Unova, the whole affair was incredibly bittersweet. And when he parted ways with his friends from Kalos, one of them left him stunned and speechless when she kissed him goodbye.

And all the while, each time he arrived home, he would look back on all his past adventures, remembering everyone he loved and cared about and missed...and she would stick out. He remembered the day they went their separate ways, and he couldn't help but wonder: where were the tears? Where was the promise that they would meet again? Where was the bittersweet goodbye? He remembered how her brother was more upset about the whole ordeal than she was, and that was because he would have to go home.

At first, he didn't think much of this, chalking it up to excitement. But with each chapter that closed, with each friend he had to say goodbye to expressing sadness at parting ways, with each phone call that ended with nothing more than a voicemail, she continued to stick out more and more. Time passed. Confusion gave way to frustration. Frustration gave way to bitterness. And bitterness gave way to apathy. It had to, or he would continue to feel angry. Any time he thought of her, he had to tell himself that it didn't make a difference. He had lots of friends, and they all cared about him. What difference did it make if she didn't? That was what he told himself, day after day. Despite this, he couldn't stop thinking about her, and that only made him even more frustrated.

It was when he came home from Alola that he finally hit his breaking point with her. Coming home, he felt like he was on top of the world. He had finally emerged victorious in the regional conference, after so many years of trying and failing. He was showered with endless congratulations from all his friends in Alola. When he came home with his trophy, he came to his house expecting to see his mother there. What he didn't expect was to see all his friends that he'd made over the years there, cheering for him and for his victory. Everyone was there...including her. After years of trying to convince himself that they didn't care about each other anymore, she was there. She was cheering for him, louder than anyone else. For a moment, he felt like the happiest guy alive.

As he talked with each of his friends, he was constantly showered with congratulations for his accomplishment, with a joking comment or two peppered here and there that they thought he'd never make it. He couldn't deny that he appreciated their support, as they were all wonderful friends. But he wanted to hear her say it. He wanted her to tell him that she was happy for him, that she was as proud of him as he was of her. And so he spent most of the night trying to reach her, to talk to her for the first time in so many years. Despite his best efforts, however, he kept getting intercepted by one of his friends. Eventually, he decided to wait until he had a moment to himself. Then he would go to her.

That moment finally came after an hour-and-a-half of nonstop celebration. Everyone was doing their own thing, talking to each other. He looked and saw that she was texting a friend on her phone. She wasn't doing anything, talking to anyone. This was his chance. He stood up and walked over to her, the biggest smile ever on his face, and he greeted her.

"Not now. This is important."

His smile vanished, replaced by a shocked frown. Important? What could be so important that she would so casually brush him off after so many years? She didn't even look up to acknowledge his presence! He stole a glance at her screen and saw that she was talking to him. He knew they were friends, but they saw each other a lot. And yet she had the gall to think it more important to text him than to spend time with her friend who she hadn't seen in so many years.

That was the last straw for him. Without another word, he turned away. If she thought her rival she saw on a regular basis was more important than the friend she hadn't seen in so long, then that was fine with him. She didn't care about him, and he didn't care about her. And that was that.

The rest of the party went as expected. There was cake, ice cream, and congratulatory cards with small wads of cash in them. While he'd be lying if he said he didn't appreciate it all, none of it did anything to take away the pain he felt. It wasn't long before he was saying goodbye to everyone again. As the last friend left, he noticed that he hadn't seen her leave. He asked his mother where she was, and discovered that she'd left earlier.

He went upstairs to get ready for bed, telling his mom that he was exhausted. Despite it technically being the truth, as he had just come home from a long flight and spent the last few hours as the guest of honor at his own party, she knew him well enough to know that something was seriously bothering him. He went into his room, trophy in hand, and set it on his shelf where all his other achievements were. Once he had it placed, he took a minute to read the plaque on the base:

Ash Ketchum
Manalo Conference Champion
First Champion of the Alola League

He gave a sardonic chuckle as he turned away. Champion. He'd felt that way when he came home. Now, however, he didn't feel anything except bitterness and apathy. As he crawled into bed and reached over to turn his lamp off, he noticed something shimmering in the lamp's glow, blinding him briefly. He picked it up and held it in his hand. It was a ribbon, or rather, half of one. For a moment, he regarded fondly, and then he remembered: she had the other half. Overtaken by bitter rage, he hurled the half ribbon across the room, hearing it fall into his closet with a sharp clink. He didn't know where it landed, nor did he care. After all, she didn't care. Why should he?

He turned his lamp off and rested his head on his pillow. Alone and having exhausted all restraint, he finally allowed the bitter tears bristling in his eyes to fall as he went to sleep.

*FIVE YEARS LATER*

Indigo Plateau.

The ultimate goal of trainers in Kanto had stood proud and strong for generations. It was known for many things, most notably the annual gathering of trainers from around the world who collected enough badges to participate in the conference. There was also the annual gathering of coordinators for the Kanto Grand Festival, and the occasional visit from the Battle Pyramid. With all the business the place got all year long, it was safe to say that Indigo Plateau was, least of all, known for its silence.

At least, it used to be.

A bitter wind blew past Ash Ketchum as he made his way to the League Headquarters. His hands were tucked away in his jacket's pockets while Pikachu was settled in a custom-made pocket in the back, only his head poking out. Ash paid no heed to the magnificent structure of the headquarters as he held up his Rotom Phone to be scanned in. The World Champion had seen it so many times in the last few years that what was a dream-come-true for aspiring trainers was just another Tuesday morning for him. The doors opened, and he walked in through the large hall, barely even acknowledging the receptionist greeting him. He didn't stop for anyone or anything...except for his daily bag of chips. He couldn't focus without a nice morning snack. After a brief but monotonous walk, he made his way into his office.

When he arrived, he found he was not alone. Two of his peers were there waiting for him: Paul, his rival who he met in Sinnoh many years ago and a current member of the Elite Four, and Lance, the acting Champion of Kanto. He looked at them with a confused look for a minute while they looked at him, somber yet stern. This was nothing new for Paul, as he rarely smiled, but when both of them looked that way, Ash knew something was wrong. Sure enough, Paul stepped forward and handed him an envelope. Ash took it and opened it, carefully but casually. Unfolding the paper inside, he read it to himself. Pikachu, sensing that things were about to go south, hopped out of Ash's jacket and went to his place at his desk, where a fresh bottle of ketchup was waiting for him.

"What?!"

It was the first thing he had said all morning, aside from his morning greeting to his Pokemon. He reread the paper to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him, then looked up and glared at the other two.

"Tell me this is a joke," he said. Paul and Lance glanced at each other uneasily, neither one wanting to respond. "Tell me this is a joke!" Ash repeated, raising his voice slightly.

"It's as serious as it gets," Paul finally responded.

Ash glared at Lance. "When does this go into effect?"

"They came in and signed their last bit of paperwork this morning," Lance replied.

Ash's jaw dropped. "You're kidding."

"Would I be in here if I was?" was all he said in reply. Ash looked down at the paper again, then he furiously crumpled it up and hurled it at the window overlooking his personal stadium.

"UGH!" he growled. "I can't BELIEVE this! This is the third financial quarter in a ROW that we've lost one of our core sponsors! At this rate, we're gonna be filing bankruptcy by the end of the fiscal year!" He furiously walked forward and slumped down into his chair.

"The Indigo League filing for bankruptcy," Lance said quietly to himself. "I never thought it would come to this."

"Neither did I," Paul muttered, glaring at Ash. "It's such a shame that someone killed all the passion for the Pokemon League in Kanto."

"Oh, sure, blame me!" Ash snapped back, returning the glare. "Because clearly I'm the only one running this show!"

"No, you're just the face of it," he said without missing a beat. "And that's why everything's falling apart."

"I hate to say it, but Paul does have a point," Lance said. "Ever since you set yourself up here, you've beat every single challenger you've had and refused to even compliment them for giving a good fight. Not only that, but your battle style is full-on aggression." He looked out the window at the stadium. "A lot of up-and-coming trainers don't like that, so they naturally go to other regions where the Champions are kinder and show better sportsmanship."

"Oh, so what do you want me to do?" Ash said, standing up and walking over to Lance. "Put on a big, fake smile and give them cotton candy every time they lose? Is THAT what will solve all our problems?!"

"Of course not," he said, glaring back at him. Although Ash's eyes were narrowed in fury, he could still look at them and remember the bright optimism and kind heart they once reflected. He used to be in awe of the younger Champion's selflessness: of how far he was willing to go for both his Pokemon and his friends. Lance couldn't help but wonder what it was that caused someone so optimistic, kind and selfless to become so bitter and angry.

"Well, there is one way we could draw audiences back in," Paul said.

"Let's hear it," Lance replied as he and Ash turned to him.

Paul took a deep breath, then spoke. "We could host the Grand Festival again."

"Not gonna happen," Ash snapped, walking back to his desk.

"Why not?"

"We don't need their help."

"I beg to differ," Lance said. "The Grand Festival draws in hundreds of spectators each year. It's not as big of a draw as the Indigo Conference was at its peak, but that's still several million Pokedollars we're talking here. It might be just the push we need to get back on -"

"I told you," Ash cut him off, venom seeping into his voice, "We don't need their help."

"Why?" Paul snapped. "What do you have against the Grand Festival? After you completely cut ties with them two years ago, everything's been going downhill for us! We're losing revenue fast, and there's a practical gold mine sitting right outside our doors! If we just apologize to them and offer our venue for them in the next fiscal year, that could really boost our profits!"

"He's right," Lance agreed. "I estimate our profits would jump by about 250%. We could reclaim our sponsors and make up for -"

"NO!" Ash screamed, shocking the both of them and jolting Pikachu out of his ketchup coma. "We are NOT hosting the Grand Festival! You hear me?! N-O! That means NO! And that's FINAL!"

After a moment of silence, Paul huffed in anger and stormed out, grumbling furiously to himself about how uncooperative Ash was. Seeing this, he took a deep breath to refocus himself.

"Got up on the wrong side of bed this morning?" Lance asked.

"I get up on the wrong side every morning," Ash replied bitterly.

"It sure seems like it," Lance muttered to himself so Ash didn't hear. He picked up a pile of papers. "We've got more challenges waiting for your approval."

"Ah, finally," Ash muttered, leaning back and getting comfortable, "back on the regular schedule. Let's hear 'em." With that, Lance started reading through the challenges. With each one, Ash would either put it on the benchwarmer, indicating he would take it as soon as he could, or put it in the Rejection pile, which was for challenges that didn't meet his criteria. These usually received a response saying that the challenger should fulfill the requirements before filing another challenge.

"Last name, Malimoto," Lance said about halfway through.

"Reject it," Ash replied automatically. Lance set it in the pile.

"Last name, Mamosa."

"Reject it."

"Last name, Maoli."

"Reject it."

"Last name, Maple."

Ash's eyes flared open when he heard that. He slowly turned to Lance, wary of what he was hearing. "Could you repeat that?"

"Last name, Maple," Lance replied, looking at him in confusion. "What about it?"

Ash yanked the paper out of Lance's hands to see it for himself. He quickly scanned through it and confirmed his fears before handing it back.

"Throw it out," he said.

Lance blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Throw it out," Ash repeated, this time more viciously. Unsure what he meant, he reached to put it in the Rejection pile, only for Ash to slam his desk in frustration. "No!" he shouted. "I said throw it out, and I meant throw it out!"

"But Ash!" Lance exclaimed in astonishment, "This is a challenger! You can't just throw away their challenge like that! That's not how the Pokemon League works!"

"Don't tell me what I can't do!" Ash shot back, ripping the paper out of Lance's hands. Then, with his own two hands, he tore it apart and threw it in the trash, much to the Kanto Champion's horror. He looked back up at Ash and finally decided that enough was enough.

"You IDIOT!" he screamed so loud even Ash was shocked. "Did you not hear ANYTHING we talked about an hour before?! We are one mistake, and I mean ONE MISTAKE AWAY, from bankruptcy! And do you know WHY we're falling apart?!"

"Why?" Ash said, rolling his eyes.

"THIS is why!" Lance shouted, slamming Ash's desk. "Because YOU keep making stupid decisions like THIS! Our challengers are the only thing keeping us afloat right now! We cannot afford to just THROW AWAY their challenges like this!"

"Relax," Ash said, seemingly unconcerned, "It's just one challenger. No one's gonna know any better. Now hurry up and finish with that stack."

Lance looked at him for a moment, then slammed the stack of papers in front of him. "You finish it," he growled. "I have my own business to attend to."

"Fine then," Ash replied. Lance stormed off and opened the door. He was about to leave, but he stopped himself and looked back at the stubborn, bitter, and angry World Champion.

"What happened to you?" he asked. There was no anger in his voice; just sadness and disappointment. "You were so brave and kind and selfless when I first met you. I never thought, even in my wildest dreams, that anything could break that spirit of yours." Ash didn't even look up in response. The Kanto Champion just shook his head and sighed. "I can't believe how wrong I was." With that, he went out, closing the door behind him, leaving Ash alone to sort through his own problems.

He was standing outside the main hall, leaning against the wall. He'd submitted his challenge an hour ago, so he was expecting a response any time now. Even though he didn't have the necessary badges to request a challenge, he didn't think that would be necessary.

"He promised," was all he said to himself as he stood there, waiting patiently for a response.

The day didn't get much better for Ash after Lance and Paul left. He got some phone calls and emails to keep him busy, but for the most part, his morning was uneventful. He was relieved when the clock struck twelve, which meant he could stop for a while.

"Lunchtime," he said to himself with a smile. He turned to Pikachu, who was sleeping in a small bed to the side. "I'll get you some ketchup-flavored food, all right?" Pikachu didn't wake up, but he purred in his sleep and pressed his head into Ash's hand. Ash smiled as he brought his hand back. "Love ya, buddy." With that, he stood up and headed for the door, feeling good about himself for the first, and last, time that day.

No sooner had he left his office than his receptionist came up to him; apparently she'd been waiting for a while to speak with him. "I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Ketchum," she said, walking beside him, "but there's a challenger here to see you."

"All challengers may submit a formal request for a battle," Ash replied automatically, not slowing his pace.

"That's the thing, sir," she said. "He submitted his request, but got no response."

"Have him resubmit; there was probably a processing error."

"No, sir. His request went through. I processed it myself. Surely you must have received it!"

"All right. I'll go clear things up. What was his name?"

"Maple, sir."

Ash stopped in his tracks, then turned to her slowly. "Say that again?"

"Maple, sir. N-Not like Maple syrup, mind you, but Maple, and then, 'sir,' which is what I called you."

Ash didn't register anything she said after the name. A challenger whose name was Maple, and he was a boy? Then it dawned on him. "Where is he?" he asked her.

"In the front lobby," she said.

"Thank you," Ash said. With that, he strode forward into the lobby. He looked around, but the hall was empty aside from the furniture. Unsure what to make of this, Ash decided to head out the front door to get lunch.

"It's not like you to turn down a challenger."

He stopped in his tracks. The voice was not the same one he remembered from nearly ten years ago.

"And it's even less like you to break a promise."

But the tone was just the same as it used to be.

"Well, Ash? I'm ready."

Ash sighed and turned to face his challenger. "You couldn't wait until after lunch?"

The young man snickered and pushed his glasses up his face. They were far more refined than the boyish spectacles he wore so long ago, befitting a seasoned trainer. But the green polo and neatly-styled cerulean hair were all it took to give himself away.

"Nice to see you haven't changed, Ash," he said.

"I suppose I haven't," Ash said softly, noticing the pinch of irony in his old friend's voice. It was a bitter taste to him. "But you're not wrong, Max. I don't break a promise." He pulled a small card out of his jacket and handed it to Max. "Meet me at Stadium 1202, 12:30 sharp. Don't keep me waiting." With that, he went back inside. The cafeteria would have to do for lunch today.

Max Maple looked at the card and sighed. "I hope this works," he said to himself. With that, he walked in and headed for the Arena number listed on the card.