Lin Zhi, a typical twenty-five-year-old corporate drone, sat slumped in the computer chair of his rented room. The screen was playing the final decisive battle of Pokémon Journeys: The Series.
"Go, Pikachu! Thunderbolt!!!"
On the screen, that familiar yellow figure erupted with an unprecedented, brilliant flash of electricity, tearing through the final defense of his opponent's Gigantamax Charizard. The commentator's voice was hoarse from screaming, and the stands erupted like a tsunami.
Leon dropping to one knee, the referee's flag, and... Ash's face, finally shifting from stunned silence to wild ecstasy, his eyes shimmering with tears.
"He won... he finally won..." Lin Zhi murmured to himself. His finger subconsciously hit pause, freezing the frame on Ash and Pikachu in a tight embrace. Behind them, confetti filled the air amidst the mountain-shaking roars of "Champion!"
A complex, indescribable surge of emotion welled up in his chest.
It was excitement for that "silly kid" who had accompanied his entire youth, finally reaching the top of the world. It was relief, as if seeing one of his own distant and beautiful dreams finally realized. But more than that, it was a deep, bottomless sense of regret and lingering sorrow.
"Twenty-five years... from that silly kid who overslept in Pallet Town to the World Champion today..." Lin Zhi leaned back against his chair, staring up at the old, yellowed lampshade on the ceiling. His thoughts drifted back to the distant past. "Along this road, how much was missed? How many were released? And how many regrets were left behind?"
He thought of that Butterfree released for the sake of love; he thought of that stubborn yet powerful Primeape who was sent away; he thought of the Lapras he met countless times to protect its kin but never managed to recall to his team.
He remembered the Goodra from the wetlands, the Greninja left to cut down vines, the clingy Poipole, and... so many more. Ash's journey was hot-blooded and pure, but in the eyes of an old viewer like Lin Zhi who had watched every step, it was filled with the bitter taste of "what if."
"If only his tactics had been a bit more flexible back then... if only he knew more about breeding and training... if only he hadn't released those partners... maybe this championship wouldn't have taken twenty-five years." He sighed, the pang of hunger in his stomach dragging his thoughts back to reality.
Outside the window, the sky had already darkened, and the streetlights were flickering on one by one. Only then did he realize he had forgotten to eat dinner while chasing the grand finale.
"Forget it, stop thinking about it. In the end, it's someone else's story." Lin Zhi shook his head and closed the video. He stood up, threw on a jacket, grabbed his phone and keys, and prepared to head down to the little shop he frequented for a meal.
The night air was slightly chilly, the city's neon lights flashing as traffic flowed endlessly. He walked along the sidewalk, head down, scrolling through trending searches and forum discussions about Ash's victory. The netizens were just like him, filled with sentiment and nostalgia; comments like "my youth is finally over" flooded the screen.
He was happy for Ash, but that sense of regret unique to a veteran fan still occupied his heart, refusing to dissipate.
"If I could do it all over again and become Ash... heh, I'm dreaming." He was amused by his own Chuunibyou-like thought and shook his head.
Just as he crossed an intersection and was about to reach the small stir-fry shop glowing with warm light, a sudden change occurred!
An out-of-control sedan suddenly veered onto the sidewalk. Blinding high beams, like the pupils of a giant beast, instantly swallowed his entire field of vision. The tires screeched against the pavement with a piercing sound that felt like it would tear his eardrums apart.
Lin Zhi's mind went blank; his body had no time to react. A massive force slammed into his side, and the world in his perception instantly became distorted, shattered, and spinning. His phone flew from his hand, tracing a helpless arc through the air, its screen still lit with the screenshot of Ash and Pikachu's championship hug.
The searing pain lasted only an instant before his consciousness began to recede like a ebbing tide.
"Is this... it for me?"
"I'm so unwilling... I haven't even... seen the new... Pokémon game..."
"Ash... Pikachu..."
His final thought was that image of the champion and an endless, lingering regret.
To be continued...
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