"And the winner is the newly undefeated young master, Paul Shinji of Veilstone City!" The crowd that was stockpiled throughout the stadium roared with glee. Cynthia had been defeated. There was a new master in town, and his name was Paul.

He won, Ash's whole body trembled as he watched the mind blowing scene from the safety of his living room, He actually won. He clenched his now paled fists around a sofa cushion sitting in his lap. And now that he's the champion... Delia, who had been in the kitchen making dinner, turned her attention away from the stove when she heard muffled whimpers coming from around the corner. ...now that he's the best... She cautiously stepped to the side and peeped at her son, alone on the couch. Her heart sank at his sorrow, but she could tell that he didn't want to talk right then. He seemed so alone, just sitting there. In his own little world of pain. She wanted to reach out so desperately. She could even feel her hand slowly rising to grasp his shoulder and pull the young raven-haired boy into a hug.

But he isn't a boy anymore, Delia sighed as the truth struck her for the millionth time, He's a grown man. Eighteen, going on nineteen. Soon enough he'll marry and have little raven-haired boys and girls of his own. He can be strong by himself. He'll be just fine if I- A gentle tug on her hand interrupted Delia's thought train.

"Mom, stop crying," A gentle voice whispered, his soft lips barely touching her ear. At this simple statement, Delia erupted into even more tears, and Ash tenderly pulled her into his chest, stroking her soft, coral hair. And then they just stood there, letting each other have a moment of silence. Not to commemorate the past, but to assure a calm, happy future. Ash groaned, replaying the battle in his head. Now that he's the best... I can never impress him... I can never be good enough for him.. he'll never... love me.

Both Ash and Delia's heads sprang back up as a faint beeping noise could be heard swooping in from the kitchen.

"Oops, better go turn off the stove before you omelette gets too crispy, Ash," Delia chuckled, dashing away to save dinner. Ash sighed, watching as she abandoned him. He was all alone again, like when he'd been sitting, watching, clutching that pillow for dear life.

Yeah, He scoffed to himself, A pillow's a real life-saver for someone as suicidal as me. When the terribly screechy fire alarm finally stopped, Ash retreated up to his room. He needed some time for thinking. And anyways, he knew Mom would let him eat up there. Or at least, certainly at a time like this. He was aware of her weak heart, and he knew she was too nice to subject him to sitting at the table, even though he was a grown man after all.

"A grown man," He said the word aloud, just to hear it, "Hmm... the last time I saw Paul was when I was, what, fifteen?" A grown man. He let the phrase tumble around in his brain for a little while. It just sounded so, not like him. He'd always thought he'd stay childish. Always carefree and giddy. Ready to go out of his way to help people, at any cost. But now he was an adult, not to mention an adult on the verge of depression. He sighed again, probably for the millionth time that night, as he entered his old room. Even after nearly twenty years it still hadn't changed. Same old bunk bed. Same old desk. Same old tv in the corner. It was the same then and would always be the same. Unlike his luck with pokemon. That had changed, and would likely continue to change throughout his life. "And there's nothing I can do about it." He told himself as he climbed into bed, "My fate's no longer in my hands like it used to be. Or at least, I thought it used to be." He moaned as he rested his head on the pillow, shutting his eyes tightly. Hoping to get some rest. Maybe that would relieve him a bit. At least, for the time being.

Delia sat at the kitchen table with a fresh cup of coffee in front of her hand. At the other end there was a place setting with an omelet sitting in the middle, waiting for someone to come and enjoy it in all it's eggy goodness. Delia's fingers rasped back and fourth on the hardwood, breaking the silence in the room. She was getting anxious.

I can't let him just sit up there and mope, She thought. But then she paused, On the other hand, he has been through a lot lately. It was only two years ago that Pikachu finally left, after all the other pokemon had managed to fade out of his life too. I think he might have been too distracted by his constant defeat to have noticed when they had left. But when Pikachu walked off on him, it brought on a whole new level of depression for him -and me- to deal with.

Delia was right. Ash was really depressed after Pikachu had left him. She remembered it like it was yesterday...

*Flashback*

"C'mon Pikachu, use thunderbolt! And give it all you've got!" Ash shouted. Across the battlefield from him stood a much younger trainer with a Spearow.

"Spike, use Arial Ace!" He shouted, pointing towards his opponent powerfully as the angry bird pokemon unleashed it's attack. Pikachu let out the last of it's energy as it lay there on the ground, panting and sweaty, from all of the battling it had done that day. Scratches smothered it's red -now a slightly paler shade- cheeks sacks from all of the times Ash's depression had made it so he neglected to take care of the little yellow pokemon. And then, mid attack, Pikachu froze. The lighting stopped coming. Pikachu frantically tried to get it's spark back, but to no avail. It was all over. The Arial Ace erupted right on top of Pikachu. A cloud of grey dust mushroomed over the field, but when it cleared, so did the outcome.

"Pikachu is unable to battle, so the winner is Spike the Spearow!" Announced Delia, who had been at the house when Ash had notified her of his upcoming battle to supposedly 'teach a newbie how it's done'. Ash's confidence in such a bleak time for him just astounded Delia, making her giggle at the time. But now she wasn't giggling, and neither was Ash. His head hung low as the boy complemented his pokemon on it's amazing flying-type moves. The boy then approached the older trainer, reaching out his hand to shake the other's.

"Hey, sir, thanks for the battle! You did really great, ya know!" Said the little boy, smiling gleeful. Ash lightly chuckled at this, though no one could see because the brim of his cap shadowed his face. The boy reminded Ash of himself, back when he had been a budding young trainer, ready to take on the world if he had to! But now, he was older, and reality had hit him faster than a bullet train. It was obvious now. He wasn't meant to be a trainer, and neither was this boy. So he needed to set the record straight, for that boy's sake. And his pokemon's.

"You know," Ash began in a deep, serious tone, "You're a good trainer. A good kid, too. Just enjoy it while it lasts." And with that, he turned and walked away. Far, far away so that no one could see the tears trickling slowly down his cheeks.

"Pika, pika!" Called Pikachu, using the last of it's strength to run after its trainer. It dashed in front of him, stopping him short and making him flinch.

"Pikachu, I'm sorry," He whimpered, "But I just don't feel like battling anymore. Okay?"

The electric mouse pokemon shook it's head, "Pi, pika, pikachu! Pika, pi.." 'Ash, you can't stop battling! If you do, then, then...' It sniffled, wiping its cheek with its little yellow paw. "PIKACHU!" 'Then I won't let you be my master anymore!' And without another word, Pikachu gave Ash one last little shock with the tip of it's tail, then dashed off, never to be seen again.

*End Flashback*

Pikachu. Delia had nearly forgotten that little yellow bundle of joy. But that was only for Ash's sake, not hers. If it had been her choice, she would have made Ash go out and find it. Pikachu was his greatest companion, someone he could talk to about how broken his heart was. And at times, just as fierce a rival as rivals could get. But always a friend.

The middle-aged red haired woman cocked her head and peered out the window. A fresh coat of snow was beginning to fall, like a sheet over the many blankets which had already completely hidden the ground. She turned he gaze slightly and met eyes with... the calendar.

"January," She said to no one in particular, seeing as Ash was upstairs and Mr. Mime was cleaning up in the living room, "I wonder... isn't today the anniversary of Ash and Paul's final battle?" She got up and neared the time-keeping device, placing her delicate fingernail on the box which displayed the date. And sure enough, there it was. National Mauve Knight Day. A day to honor that mauve haired knight of darkness. Famous for sweeping women off their feet, and opponents off the battlefield. A day to commemorate his final battle with his fiercest rival. A day about prevailing over your enemy. A day not about Ash, but about forgetting his existence.

Placing her index finger from the date to her shapely chin, she scanned the chart in front of her, then used her other hand to flip it several pages, until she reached April.

"I'll give him 'till April first," She said confidently, once again, to no one, "That was the day he started his pokemon journey, so that'll be the day he starts his new life."

"Ash! Honey, can I talk to you for a second? Please!" Delia asked kindly, and slightly impatiently, as she knocked on her son's bedroom door. He groaned, probably mumbled a curse word, then groggily answered the door. Delia walked right in, plopping down in his desk chair.

"What is it Mom?" He asked with a yawn, "Can't you see I was trying to sleep in here?"

"First!" Delia began, pointing defiantly at Ash, "I need to make a proposal."

"Fine, just calm down a minute," Ash answered, backing away from her index finger.

Delia cleared her throat, "Ash, I have decided that, after what's happened, you need a break. A three month break to be precise! And on April 1st, I will invite Professor Oak, Gary, and several other of you old friends to have a conference with you discussing your future as of that point. By then, we expect you to be fully ready to get a job and move out. But for now, you may stay here until you've recovered and are ready to get back up on your feet and start anew!" His mother's peppiness startled Ash, but he still managed to answer her.

"Alright," He said, "Thanks, Mom! I really appreciate this." He leaned over to embrace her, then she kissed his cheek.

"Oh, and second," Delia began, giggling a bit to herself, "You're omelet's getting cold."

"Remember Ash, three months and counting," Delia whispered as she began shutting his door. Ash lied in bed, his eyes wide and staring at the blank ceiling above. He was definitely ready for a vacation, and the whole 'life repair' portion of Delia's speech completely slipped his mind. It was going to be a nice three months, that was for sure. A nice, long, vacation...