Aiden, an ordinary twenty-five-year-old corporate worker, lay slumped in the chair of his rented room, watching the final battle of Pokémon: Journeys on his computer screen.
"Go, Pikachu! Thunderbolt—!!!"
Crackling!
Onscreen, that familiar yellow figure unleashed the brightest surge of electricity he had ever produced, tearing through the final defenses of the opponent's G-Max Charizard.
The commentator was shouting hoarse, the audience roared like a tsunami.
Leon's half-kneel, the referee's raised flag, and… Ash's face, shifting from stunned disbelief to overflowing joy, tears glimmering in his eyes.
"We won… we finally won…" Aiden murmured, instinctively pausing the video. The frame froze on Ash and Pikachu embracing tightly as the word Champion echoed.
A wave of indescribable emotion churned violently in his chest.
Excitement—for the fool who had accompanied his entire youth finally standing at the peak of the world.
Relief—as if a distant dream of his own had been fulfilled.
But more than all of that was a bottomless sense of regret, an ache that refused to fade.
"Twenty-five years… from the oversleeping kid in Pallet Town to the world champion…"
Leaning back, he stared up at the old, yellowed lampshade on the ceiling, his thoughts drifting far into the past.
"How many did he miss along the way? How many did he release? How many regrets did he leave behind?"
He remembered the Butterfree released for love…
The stubborn, powerful Primeape given away…
The Lapras who reunited with him again and again, yet never rejoined his team…
The Goodra of the wetlands, the Greninja left to protect the Kalos, the clingy little Poipole who evolved into Naganadel…
And so many more.
Ash's journey was passionate and pure, but in the eyes of old fans like Aiden—people who had watched every step—it was filled with endless "What if…?"
"What if he'd been more flexible with strategy…
What if he knew more about training…
What if he hadn't released so many partners…
This championship might not have taken twenty-five years…"
He sighed. The hunger in his stomach dragged him back to reality.
Outside, the sky had darkened; streetlights flickered on. Only then did he remember that he had skipped dinner just to watch the finale.
"Forget it. No point thinking about it—it's someone else's story anyway."
Shaking his head, he closed the video, put on a jacket, grabbed his phone and keys, and headed downstairs to his usual little diner.
The night breeze was cool. Neon lights shimmered across the city, traffic streaming endlessly.
He scrolled through trending posts about Ash's championship as he walked. Netizens were all just like him—nostalgic, emotional, filling comment sections with waves of "Childhood complete."
He was happy for Ash.
But that lingering regret of a long-time fan still sat heavy in his chest.
"If I could do it all over again… If I became Ash… Heh, what am I even daydreaming about?"
He laughed at himself, shaking off the silly thought.
Then, just as he crossed an intersection, only steps away from the warm glow of the diner—
—chaos struck.
A car, completely out of control, shot onto the sidewalk. The blinding high beams were like the eyes of a beast, devouring his vision in an instant.
The screech of tires tearing against the pavement stabbed into his ears, sharp enough to split them open.
Aiden's mind went blank. His body couldn't react in time.
The massive impact slammed into him, twisting and shattering the world in his perception.
His phone flew from his hand, drawing a helpless arc through the air…
Its screen still showing Ash and Pikachu's championship embrace.
The agony lasted only a moment.
Then his consciousness receded like a falling tide.
"Is… this it?"
"So unwilling… I haven't… even seen… the next Pokémon game…"
His final thought was of that frozen victory image—and a sea of regret.
To be continued…