A/N: A little delayed, but the second in my weekly series of one-shots commemorating Ash's journey through every region, as it comes to an end, is here. (The first was a separate story.) At least 4 more one-shots will be posted as chapters in this story, as well as a couple more as separate stories, so follow if you'd like updates.
Johto.
Gary Oak was not a loser.
But it was hard to suppress the thought as he sat by the lakeside, the moonlight reflecting visions of his battle with Ash. It was the culmination… of something. An argument. A fight. A rivalry, even. There was a time when he would have held back the word, denied Ash the dignity of being a true equal. It was nighttime, now. Time to reconsider.
He fingered the broken half of a Poké Ball, turning it over pensively.
Half. Exactly the same as what Ash had. Maybe it was preordained, since the day these two boys set out from a sleepy town named Pallet, stretching tendrils into the future and knotting them together like fishing lines. This morning, Gary had pulled on one of those future threads and his tenuous string of victories disintegrated.
How did he get here?
He had been winning, at some point. Most of his team still waited and Ash was down to his last Pokémon. It was too easy to predict which one was Ash's last choice: Charizard. As he readied his counters, Gary anticipated the thrill of victory, marred with a subtle disappointment. He had expected more from the battle, from Ash. Was it so easy after all?
He tossed his head back with a smirk; his respect for Ash was not as newfound as it seemed.
After all, he wasn't above using Ash's tactics against him. Using a tail to lift off the ground. Using moves on the arena. Gary recognized the power in these ideas and never hesitated to follow Ash in employing them. Despite that, Gary could admit that Ash had a power that he never could. The unexpected.
A breeze blew over the water, setting his hairs on end.
It was the same ominous feeling he had had when Ash started melting the floor beneath him. Gary had grown to expected the unexpected; this was beyond him. Drops of nervous sweat rolled down his forehead, dampening the goosebumps on his skin as if a premonition. Ash grinned from across the arena. Gary could feel Charizard's mouth flames singe him like schoolboy insults. The floor spat at his feet venomously, the air itself vibrating with the hum of heat; Charizard's face was distorted grotesquely, mocking him. He tried to meet it evenly. Wild fire against cool water; Ash against him. Steam obscured the arena, allowing to him to pretend for a moment that he was ignorant of the fact that he was outplayed.
He had always thought he would be devastated on the day he finally lost to Ash. He had been preparing himself, slowly, almost ineluctably. However, when the steam cleared at the end, there was no sinking in his stomach or hollowness in his heart. He turned from the battlefield, and quietly smiled at Ash's disbelieving joy. The boy deserved it.
A distant figure with spiky hair in a cap came running down, towards him.
Being defeated by someone like Ash wasn't losing at all. And Gary rose to meet his rival with the simple realization in his heart:
Gary Oak was not a loser.