Dawn clung tightly to Kenny, her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as if letting go would cause her to fall apart completely. Her tears soaked through the material, but she didn’t care. She buried her face into his shoulder, her voice muffled and trembling.

“I’m useless, Kenny,” she whispered brokenly. “Everyone thinks I’m this amazing Coordinator, but I’m not. I’m just a failure. A loser who can’t even get past the qualifiers.”

Kenny tightened his arms around her, resting his chin gently on the top of her head. “Dawn, don’t you dare say that. You’re not useless, and you’re definitely not a failure.”

Dawn shook her head, her sobs intensifying. “I am! I can’t win, I can’t prove myself, I can’t even… even show my Pokémon that their trust in me isn’t misplaced. How can I call myself their trainer?”

Kenny pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her tear-streaked face. His eyes were stern but warm, filled with determination. “You are their trainer, Dawn. You’ve worked harder than anyone I’ve ever seen. You love them, and they love you. Losing doesn’t change that.”

Dawn hiccupped, wiping at her eyes. “But what’s the point? I let them down, Kenny. I let everyone down…”

“No, you didn’t.” Kenny’s voice was steady, unwavering. “Losing doesn’t mean you’ve let anyone down. It means you’ve learned something. It means there’s room to grow, room to improve. And you know what? I’ve never known anyone more capable of bouncing back than you, Dawn Hikari.”

Dawn’s lip quivered, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I don’t know if I can. What if… what if I fail again? What if I’m just not good enough?”

Kenny reached out and gently wiped away her tears with his thumb. His touch was tender but firm, grounding her. “Then you get up, dust yourself off, and try again. And again. And again if you have to. Because you are good enough, Dawn. You’re more than good enough. And if you can’t see that right now, I’ll remind you every single day until you do.”

Dawn’s arms tightened around his torso, her face buried in his chest as she sobbed harder. “You don’t understand… Everyone expects me to be perfect. To win. To be like my mom. But I’m not her. I can’t live up to that.”

Kenny’s voice softened, but his resolve didn’t waver. “You’re not your mom, and you don’t have to be. You’re Dawn. That’s more than enough. You’ve got a spark that’s yours and yours alone. And the people who really care about you? Like me, Ash, Brock, and your Pokémon? We don’t care if you win or lose. We care about you.”

From the doorway, Ash and Brock continued to watch silently. Brock leaned closer to Ash, whispering, “He’s really something, huh? Not many people could say the exact words she needs to hear like that.”

Ash nodded, his usual carefree expression replaced with something more serious. “Yeah. I’ve known Dawn for a while now, but I don’t think I could’ve helped her like Kenny’s doing. He really gets her.”

Back on the bed, Dawn’s sobs were beginning to subside, though her grip on Kenny remained firm. “You really think I can get through this?” she asked, her voice small and uncertain.

Kenny smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “I don’t just think it, Dawn. I know it. You’re one of the strongest people I know. You’ve just hit a bump in the road. It doesn’t mean the journey’s over.”

Dawn sniffled, her lips trembling as she looked up at him. “What if I can’t find my way back?”

“You won’t have to do it alone,” Kenny said firmly. “I’ll be right here, every step of the way. And so will Ash and Brock. And your Pokémon. We’re all in your corner, Dawn. You’ve got a whole team rooting for you.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, a tiny smile tugged at Dawn’s lips. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there. “Thanks, Kenny. I… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Kenny grinned, pulling her into another hug. “You’ll never have to find out.”

In the hallway, Brock nudged Ash. “Let’s give them some space.”

Ash nodded, a small smile on his face as they turned to leave. “Yeah. Kenny’s got this.”

Back in the room, Dawn finally let herself relax in Kenny’s arms, the weight of her self-doubt beginning to lift, even if only slightly. For the first time in days, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she could face tomorrow.