He'd lost.

He'd really lost.

And he'd lost to you.

It felt...well, he wasn't really sure how he felt, to be honest. Happy for you, of course, he knew how hard you'd worked for this, how far you'd come. But also...

...Unsure. Worried. Maybe even scared.

...What did he do now?

Being the Champion of the Galar Region was all he'd known for 10 years. 10 long years of him defending his Title, of being one of the best, and now, in the span of less than a day, that had all been ripped from him.

He felt...lost. Unsure of where he wanted his path to go now, what road he wanted to travel.

Those thoughts kept swirling around and around in his mind as he sat there in the dark cloak room to Wyndon Stadium, his knee bobbing up and down with anxiety. It was late at night, and he knew he was probably one of the few people that remained in the building, other than the cleaners.

...Apart from you, it seemed.

He looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching, a small smile slipping onto his face as he saw you standing there in the doorway.

"Hey there, Champ! I thought you'd be out celebrating!"

Slipping into his happy go lucky facade was like second nature to him. He did it without thinking, and it always fooled people.

...Almost always.

His smile faded a little when he saw the way you stared at him, saw the gentle, almost sad look in your eyes.

"...You shouldn't feel bad about beating me, y'know. It's...it's a Champion's job to pass on the torch to someone better. My time has come and gone."

His gaze softened slightly as he leaned back on the bench he was sitting on.

"...You earned this. Fair and square. And I'm proud of you, I really am."