Champion
There's nothing quite like meeting him for the first time. Nothing can prepare you for the wonder of that first sight. Not the months you've spent training and earning eight badges from both Kanto and Johto so that the guard will stop keeping you out for your own good, not your confrontations with the five second-best trainers this side of the country, not the days, sometimes weeks that you spend trekking your way up the mountain, braving the whipping winds and biting cold, the powerful creatures that any other day would have torn you limb from limb, all with one goal in sight.
To battle him.
As you approach him, there are two things you notice right away: his best friend, Pikachu, is either on his shoulder or trudging around in the snow, looking bored and trying to find ways to occupy himself. Pikachu is much more alert than him, too; he's always the one to spot you first. The second thing you notice is that he seems... distant. His face is hard and stoic, more befitting of a war-hardened soldier than the fourteen-year-old boy it belongs to.
But then there's his eyes. At first glance, they seem just as cold and soulless as his expression would otherwise have you believe. But sometimes, you see a spark. A twinkle in his eye, and it brings them into new perspective. You can see the longing in his gaze as he stares at the ground, the warm glow that slowly diminishes with every moment. If you watch closely, you can see flashbacks of the hardships he's faced: images of Celadon City, the Pokemon Tower in Lavender Town, Silph Co, his near defeat at the hands of the current Viridian City gym leader in a cave not far from the Indigo Plateau, some unplaced losses that have nothing to do with Pokémon. You have to wonder: is this truly the life he wants?
Finally, his starter Pokémon's incessant tugs at his jeans bring his gaze up, and he sees you. He just stands there, leaning against a boulder with his hat pulled almost completely over his eyes, idly tossing a Poké Ball into the air with one hand. You're lucky to get a nod of recognition. And soon, the battle is on.
You lose. It's impossible to win. He has had several years to train, develop strategies and make his Pokémon the best they can be. You can hardly react, not only from the strength of his partners, but also from the awe that courses through your whole body at the sight. He is the true Champion, and it makes you wonder why he isn't waiting at the back room of the Pokémon League to take on the lucky few strong enough to get that far.
So you leave, train, once more establish your dominance in the available Leagues. But you keep coming back. Eventually you may get a small wave or greeting from him, because you become one of the only people he actually recognizes. And still you lose, and still you come back. You'll never win, that's a fact. And it's all because of one, simple reason.
He is the very best. Like no one, ever, was.
To battle him.
As you approach him, there are two things you notice right away: his best friend, Pikachu, is either on his shoulder or trudging around in the snow, looking bored and trying to find ways to occupy himself. Pikachu is much more alert than him, too; he's always the one to spot you first. The second thing you notice is that he seems... distant. His face is hard and stoic, more befitting of a war-hardened soldier than the fourteen-year-old boy it belongs to.
But then there's his eyes. At first glance, they seem just as cold and soulless as his expression would otherwise have you believe. But sometimes, you see a spark. A twinkle in his eye, and it brings them into new perspective. You can see the longing in his gaze as he stares at the ground, the warm glow that slowly diminishes with every moment. If you watch closely, you can see flashbacks of the hardships he's faced: images of Celadon City, the Pokemon Tower in Lavender Town, Silph Co, his near defeat at the hands of the current Viridian City gym leader in a cave not far from the Indigo Plateau, some unplaced losses that have nothing to do with Pokémon. You have to wonder: is this truly the life he wants?
Finally, his starter Pokémon's incessant tugs at his jeans bring his gaze up, and he sees you. He just stands there, leaning against a boulder with his hat pulled almost completely over his eyes, idly tossing a Poké Ball into the air with one hand. You're lucky to get a nod of recognition. And soon, the battle is on.
You lose. It's impossible to win. He has had several years to train, develop strategies and make his Pokémon the best they can be. You can hardly react, not only from the strength of his partners, but also from the awe that courses through your whole body at the sight. He is the true Champion, and it makes you wonder why he isn't waiting at the back room of the Pokémon League to take on the lucky few strong enough to get that far.
So you leave, train, once more establish your dominance in the available Leagues. But you keep coming back. Eventually you may get a small wave or greeting from him, because you become one of the only people he actually recognizes. And still you lose, and still you come back. You'll never win, that's a fact. And it's all because of one, simple reason.
He is the very best. Like no one, ever, was.