Trainer Pride

I am a trainer.

It was a funny declaration to make, especially since today was the two year mark since he had stepped out of home and never gone back, but the four words stuck inside his head as they refused to leave; they reiterated the facts he already knew, but they were facts he wanted to confirm.

I am a trainer.

His lips moved; he started to mumble it verbally.

I am a trainer. Iamatrainer.

It was with a pang, when his heart skipped a beat, that he realised the boy standing on the other end of the arena was also a trainer. A trainer like he was and --

Can't he see it? How she's suffering? Can't he - feel her?

She was barely alive, blood pouring out from her numerous wounds as she struggled to stand to heed the commands that were being given to her. She was weak, she was dying, she was --

I am a trainer.

It seemed that Gardevoir could read his thoughts, for the psychic pokémon moved a distance back, both in respect and preparation. He was a trainer; Gardevoir was trained for battle; Gardevoir was train to fight and --

We are trainers. Wearetrainers. We are trainers. We --

We fight to win.

He wasn't calling her back. Why? Didn't he care that she was going to die? Why didn't he - he was smiling. He was smiling as he held up a poke ball, and showed how the defense mechnaism was spoilt. He was smiling, and smiling as he threw the ball over his shoulder -

When it landed and broke, his heart went with it. When the pieces flew, his determination dissolved. With each shallow breath she was taking, his respect for the his opponent withered slowly.

"Now," the boy spoke, "finish that Gardevoir off."

Gardevoir glanced back at him. Gardevoir was solemn, saddened, bitter, regretful -- she's dying, Gardevoir whispered to him she's dying.

"Attack that Gardevoir!"

She rose to her feet, trembling as she moved. Her lips parted to reveal a ball of glowing light.

I am a trainer - he was not a fool, he knew how to differentiate a hyper beam from any other attack, and he knew that she was going to die.

She is going to die. She was dying, and the force of a attack like Hyper Beam would kill her, either from extinguishing her energy, or the impact at this close range. She knew - the way she glanced at Gardevoir desperately - but she had to obey.

The boy was, after all, a - her - trainer.

"Hyper --"

He held his hand out. With a sweeping bow, Gardevoir drifted backwards and disappeared into a flash of red light as he recalled Gardevoir to a pokéball.

Gardevoir was the his last conscious pokémon.

The audience applauded and cheered, but there were those who remained silent. The winner, the other trainer, waved his hand and the crowd stood up to honour the new Champion, but there were those watching him as he watched - her.

She collapsed to the floor in the next instant. From where he stood, he watched as she breathed her last and bit back his bitterness as the First Aid workers lifted her from where she lay, and he saw the smile on her face, filled with nothing but sincere gratitude; her trainer watched from afar, congratulated by a balding man who seemed more interested in trying to talk him down, but there were those who inclined their heads in respect for the one who has passed on.

For the sacrifice.

I am a trainer.

That was what he told himself; that was what he wanted to badly to believe in.

I am --

No, he muttered, no.

He had lost.

He was not a trainer anymore.

owari.