I need just one last chance. (Hoennshipping/BrendanXMay)
It was one last move before the battle ended and it was his turn. Everyone watching already knew what would happen before it would even happen. There will be no turning of the tables.
His opponent had already been weakened from the past attacks he had landed on him, and he’s down on his knees right now. This would determine his future. This would be where everything he’s worked hard for would be defined. This meant everything to him.
Or so he thought.
He landed one final blow and the opponent was down and out. He did it.
“Brendan Birch has defeated the Hoenn League Champion Steven Stone!” the stereo system announces, the announcer’s voice filling the solitary room which held two trainers and their exhausted Pokemon. This battle has taken longer than he’d thought. It had been an hour and a half, with no one backing down. But only one has risen as the victor.
One glass door behind Steven Stone slid open. Steven has not said one word to Brendan. He has always been the dark, mysterious one, and he preferred to keep it that way, even with the first Trainer who has ever defeated him in the Hoenn League. Steven led the way out the room they had been battling in as they entered a new room; a darker room that has not been revealed to the public’s eye. The only ones allowed into the room were the Hoenn League victors and the previous champions. But Brendan had another thing in mind.
Steven sat on a chair in front of a large, wooden desk. Behind it was a short man in an office chair who was facing a large wall of TV screens which relayed the whole battle, including each trainer’s vital data. Brendan sat on the chair opposite the one Steven sat on, and stayed silent as the short man behind the desk turned to face the two trainers.
“So I guess this means we’ll have a new Hoenn League Champion…” the man trailed off, disappearing behind his desk to fetch the paperwork that has been ignored for ages, and has been rotting away in one of his desk’s drawers. Brendan sighed.
“Sir, if I may?” He asked sincerely. The short man; the Hoenn League Director, stopped his pursuit of the paperwork and resurfaced to face Brendan. “What is it my boy?” He asked, curious of what this young man would have to say.
He’s a record-breaker. He has already accomplished the Hoenn League at the early age of seventeen. This is something else.
“I thank you for the offer of becoming the new Hoenn League Champion, really, I do, but…” Brendan trailed off. The short man sighed; Looks like he won’t need to look for those papers after all. He’ll just have to file this. This is something else.
“But why my boy? I hope you know, that this is the first time I’ve seen anyone who has ever rejected the Championship. I hope you know what you’re letting down here. You’re letting the opportunity go. I wish for you to know that this won’t be here for you when you’ve changed your mind. It can’t be undone.” The director said.
“There’s something more important that I need to do, sir. If I change my mind, I’ll compete in the league again. But for now…I’d like to pursue this sir.” Brendan reasoned.
The short man nodded and instructed one of the men who were ignored for the past few minutes to fetch the log book. After a few more awkward and silent moments, Brendan and Steven were let go from the office.
They re-entered the room they once held the extremely long battle. Brendan was about to go for the door when Steven asked for a stop.
“What is it, Steven?” He asked, curious. He spun around and took a few steps towards Steven, not advancing too much and not advancing too little.
“Why did you reject the Hoenn League Championship?” Steven asked.
Brendan smiled. “There’s someone I need to do some catching up with.”
Steven smiled in reply. “I wish you luck with her. And I am very anxious for our next battle, Brendan Birch. Thank you for the previous battle. You truly are a trainer of marvelous strength.”
“Thanks Steven. See you around.” Brendan answered, turning around and leaving the secluded room all too dramatically.
- - -
The light breeze ran its hands through her chestnut brown locks, making strands separate from her tails, going with the soft wind’s flow. It had been a long and busy week, and she needed a break. She found a single bench near the edge of a cliff, where she used to go when she needed to think. Or whenever she and an old friend would sit and watch the sunset. But that was something she tried hard to forget; something that only escaped whenever it had the chance. And the chances rarely surfaced.
She sat herself down on the bench and watched as the sun slowly disappeared behind the sea. The tide was high and the water was clear. The waves crashed against the rocks below the cliff, a truth to nature’s brutality.
The waves persisted on the rocks. The rocks never budged.
This reminded her of a fond memory; an old friend, who she shunned to the back of her mind all this time.