The crowd clapped, and I clapped too, just to act like a normal person. Like I was just another spectator. Not someone they were trying to honor.
"Since she refuses to accept the spotlight, let’s take a moment to talk about why she belongs here."
I stiffened.
Oh no.
May stepped forward, a microphone in her hands, and smiled brightly. "Mia might not want the attention, but facts are facts. She’s stopped Team Rocket more times than any of us can count—sometimes completely alone!"
I snorted. "Anyone could’ve done that."
Pikachu slapped her forehead again.
May ignored me. "She’s the Kanto Champion!"
"Not important," I called out. "Lots of people are Champions!"
"She’s defeated legendary Pokémon in battle!" Brendan added.
"They were just having a bad day," I shrugged.
"She has one of the strongest bonds with Pokémon I’ve ever seen," Leaf said.
I waved a dismissive hand. "Anyone can befriend Pokémon."
"She’s saved the world at least three times."
I made a face. "The world’s still standing, isn’t it? So I didn’t do that much."
Blue groaned loudly into his mic. "Mia, for once in your life, just take the credit."
"No thanks."
The crowd chuckled, but my friends weren’t amused.
Steven sighed. "She’s also notoriously difficult."
"See? Not award-worthy at all!" I grinned.
Pikachu, clearly done with me, just muttered, "Pika," and flopped onto my lap like she was giving up.
"Alright," May huffed. "If you won’t come up here, at least let us say one last thing."
I leaned back. "If it means you’ll drop it, sure."
She turned to the audience, her expression softer now. "Mia doesn’t believe she’s done anything special. But she’s inspired more people than she realizes. She’s kind, selfless, and gives everything to the people she loves. She doesn’t fight for glory or recognition—she fights because she wants to protect others. That’s why we’re honoring her today. Not just because she’s strong, but because she cares."
Silence.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling heat creep up my face.
"...Still not coming up," I muttered.
The Neo Champions collectively sighed, and the ceremony carried on.
Red, who had been silent the whole time as expected, finally looked at me from the stage. His expression was unreadable, but I knew that look.
He knew exactly what I was doing.
And he wasn’t going to say a word about it.
Which, honestly, was the best gift I could ask for.
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