Disclaimer: I own Pokemon and I make millions behind your backs. MWAHAHAHA!
Just kidding… I don’t own Pokemon, though I wish I did, but I do own some characters in this fanfic, so don’t take them.
Sorry for spelling/grammar mistakes. English is not my native language =/
~Christopher went down the dark hall, some people, who he passed by bowed to him and whispered hushed hellos. He frowned every time his workers did this. He asked them numerous times to treat him as a person like them and not as the big boss. But, apparently, ever since they were children they were taught to treat properly and obey authority, and besides he had to admit that he found himself bowing to many important people he met in his life.
Pokemon, for some reason, obeyed their trainers too.
After a minute of quickened walking, he found himself standing in front of a huge, wooden door which held behind it the project of his life. He smiled to himself: Finally, after years of hard work, everything was ready. Tomorrow at this hour the first match shall begin, and with it the revolution that would change everything.
He opened the door slowly, and his black robe waved as the sudden wind from outside blew. His smile widened as he saw the long rows of seats, the battlefield below and the scoring board. Yes, everything was perfect and ready for the first match tomorrow. Christopher had already invited trainers from all around the world, and as many Pokemon as he could find. He didn’t capture them, of course, but asked them to come with him. They were from all kinds of Pokemon-Centers, and were all abandoned or abused by humans and trainers. The Poke-crowd must dislike humans, if he wants his plan to work. He didn’t want to make them come- if they want, they will. It’s their choice, and by the number of Pokemon that came, he could certainly say that his plan might well work.
He stepped outside to the rink, allowing the warm sunrays to caress his face. Oh, yes. Tomorrow everything would change.~
“Chris! Chris! Where are you?” the young woman
called her only son’s name over and over again. That boy… every time he ran
away when she needed him! So what if kitchen work wasn’t his idea of a good
time? What is so bad about helping his mother?
She put her hands on her slim hips and huffed. “Chris! Answer me
already!” she went silent for a moment, trying to detect any small noise that
would uncover her son’s hiding place. She could just barely hear the television
from upstairs.
She went upstairs and opened the door to her son’s room angrily. He
was sitting on the carpet and watching the television. He didn’t seem too
interested, though, but more disgusted.
It dawned to her that he wasn’t hiding at all, but she was pretty
sure he had heard her. Maybe he was just trying to find his way out of his
chores. “What are you watching?” she asked and approached him.
“A Pokemon battle,” he answered quietly. “It’s the Indigo League.
It’s the finals now.”
The mother smiled. “Oh, yeah? And since when do Pokemon battles
interest you?” she crossed he arms and gave him a satisfied look. His father
was a trainer, but Chris never seemed too interested in battles or Pokemon. She
was glad he decided to change his mind.
“They don’t,” he replied to her surprise. “It’s cruel.” His face
became angered.
“Cruel? Why?” she asked, sitting beside him. She felt like a long
conversation was about to begin.
“Look what the trainers are doing, mom! They’re making them to fight…
and what if they don’t want to? And besides, to leave them all day in the
pokeball-prison, and then take them out so they could fight and get hurt just
so the humans get their entertainment. That’s cruel! I don’t understand how
daddy can do it!? Pokemon should be our friends, not… not game tools!” he stood
up, his fists clenched with rage. He threw his Eevee doll at the television
screen and left the room. The mother could hear him say, “I’ll make sure it
won’t stay this way! I’ll show those trainers!” before the front door slammed
behind him.
The mother sighed. “Oh well… he’s still a kid. I guess he’ll
understand one day.” With that she stood up and went downstairs to make lunch.
The knock on the door cut Christopher’s train of thought. He lifted his legs off the table and started scribble something on a piece of paper. He couldn’t let his workers see him laze around. “Come in!” he called.
His right hand man, Zac, entered the room, standing tall and sure of himself. “Chris,” he said. He knew that Christopher hated to be called “Sir” or “Boss”.
“Yes?” asked Christopher. If Zac turns directly to him, and not through telephone or e-mail, it means that something important is going on.
“We tracked down the trainer you asked for. Ash Ketchum?”
“Yes. According to lists, he participated in three major leagues and some competitions. He came out as a winner only in the Orange League, but got pretty good ranks in the others. Got any more details about him?” as the time passed, Christopher wanted to get better and skilled trainers. At start, beginners were enough, because he wanted to see if his plan might even be working. After high percentages of success, he decided to bring in more skilled trainers. He didn’t like to snoop around for trainers’ files, so he sent Zac to do it.
“Yes,” replied Zac. “He’s thirteen and Pallet-Town is his native. His Pokemon these days are Pikachu, Totodile, Cyndaquill, Noctowl and Bayleef.”
“Only five?” Chris asked, surprised. Usually, good trainers would carry around six Pokemon.
Zac nodded. “I think you’d like his training style; he has a tendency to leave Pokemon around their own species. I even heard that he was willing to leave behind his Pikachu- his first Pokemon and best friend.” Zac’s voice filled with pride as the thought of such trainer ran through his mind.
“Does he keep his Pokemon in their Pokeballs?” Christopher asked, doubtful.
Zac’s face fell. “Yes.”
Christopher smiled. “Then he’s the same as the others to me. Bring him over here.”
Zac nodded and left the room, leaving his boss to smile satisfyingly behind him.
*~*~*
“I’m hungry!” Ash yelled for the fifth time, aggravating his best (human) friends and travel companions.
“We know you’re hungry, Ash!” Misty yelled back. “You said that about five times already! Now sit quietly until the food is done!”
“But I can’t sit quietly,” said Ash sadly. “My stomach keeps on growling!”
“Pika pika…” Pikachu sighed at his trainer’s stupidity.
Misty sighed too. “Then find something to do. I know! We ran out of water! Why don’t you go and find us some?” she stared at him angrily, making it clear to him that there is no way out of it.
Ash sweatdropped, but then got up and went to search for water, mumbling incoherent curses under his breath. Misty smiled, satisfied.
He walked around the forest, Pikachu after him, sniffing the air in search for water. Ash had a bored look on his face, and it didn’t seem he cared about finding water at all. After all, he did it only so he could get away from mallet-sama.
“Ash Ketchum?” Ash froze when he heard unfamiliar voice calling his name. He turned around slowly. Usually, it meant trouble.
“Who’s there?” he asked, trying to sound brave. Pikachu was on all four and ready to attack, sparks flying out of his red cheeks.
“Calm down,” the voice’s owner stepped out of the shadows cast by the tall trees. He was tall, his hair was light brown, and he had green eyes. He wore a dark jeans and a white T-shirt. “All I want is to invite you to ‘The Arena’.” The man explained in a calm voice.
“The Arena?” asked Ash. He never heard of such thing.
“Yes. There are battles there, and we invite you to participate,” the man explained, smiling.
“Battles? Great! Is that a league? Competition?” Ash inquired, willing to learn more about it. Pikachu wasn’t so calm, though. There was something fishy about all of this, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
The man frowned. “No… actually, if you look at it in a certain way, yes. You’ll participate in the battles. That is, if you’ll come.”
“I’ll come! I’ll come!” Ash called with enthusiasm in his voice. “Just let me tell Misty and Brock that-“
“No!” the sudden outburst surprised Ash and he stared at the man in wonder. What was so bad about calling his best friends?
“I mean, the Arena is just for trainers, who competed in familiar leagues, like Indigo or Jhoto.”
Ash felt important. “But Misty and Brock are former Gym leaders. Doesn’t that count? And Misty competed in the Whirl Cup,” he protested.
The man sighed. “Let me emphasize the former. If they aren’t ones now, they have no right to compete. And the Whirl Cup isn’t that familiar…”
Ash’s enthusiasm was replaced by sadness. “Can I at least tell them I’m going, so they could watch?”
“They can’t watch, either.”
“What?! You went too far now!”
The man shrugged. “These are the rules. You are welcomed to turn down this generous offer, if you’d like, but just for the record: I guarantee that participating in the Arena would change you life.”
Ash frowned in deep thought, and then nodded. “Let me just tell them I’m going…”
The man smiled. “Sure. But before you do it, will you be so kind and sign the contract?” the man took out a folded paper from his pocket and a pen.
“Contract?”
“It’s a signing form, if you might. To the Arena you don’t go to a Pokemon-Center to sign up,” the man explained, trying to make the kid in front of him feel safe. He couldn’t allow Ash to be suspicious, or else the plan is ruined.
“Uh-huh…” Ash was a bit suspicious, but there are so many competitions out there. His journey proved him this. So if there are competitions for water-type and grass-type Pokemon, there must be some irregular competitions. With this thought, he signed the contract. “Alright, I’ll be going then!”
“Just a second,” the man took put another piece of paper. “This is the address. I’ll be waiting there. Will you be able to come tomorrow night?”
“Sure,” Ash replied with a smile and left, as the man smiled evilly to himself.
“What do you mean ‘I’m going’?! What is that Arena, anyway?!” Misty asked angrily. Not only that Ash decided to go to a competition even Brock haven’t heard of, or the Jhoto Guide, for that matters, but also they’re not allowed to take place in it, watch it, or even be there! Something about it seemed very wrong…
Ash scratched his head in embarrassment. “I don’t know for sure yet, but that man said it would change my life!” Ash felt overjoyed. He was special. If someone turned to him personally, that means his among chosens… well, he is the Chosen One. But Misty didn’t like it one bit.
“I don’t know,” she said, holding her chin as she thought. “It just seems like a big false.”
“False? No way! He gave me an official contract!” Ash waves the paper in front of her face.
“There it is again, Ash! He! You don’t even know his name!” Misty replied angrily.
“I have to agree with Misty,” Brock decided to join in the argument before the two teens would be at each other’s throats. “I must admit that there’s something fishy here.”
“Hmph!” Ash huffed and turned his back to them. “You may doubt if you want, but I’m going! I’ll be back as a winner! You’ll see!”
“Ash, just think again-“ Brock tried. Ash was acting recklessly again. If someone only mentioned a battle or a league, his logic would be gone and his pride took over.
It didn’t work. Ash merely waved his hand as if to tell Brock to shut up, and then turned around again and smiled. “Can’t you trust me? I know what I’m doing. Come on, Pikachu! We’re going!” With that, the boy turned around again and walked away.
“I sure hope so,” said Brock quietly. Misty nodded in agreement.
*~*~*
Ash found his way without much trouble, and that surprised him. He has a tendency to get lost. Pikachu was still doubtful about this whole thing, but Ash was sure of himself, and he trusted the man he met. If only he knew that that what he was trying to get- his faith…
“Ash! I’m glad you’re here!” the man in the entrance said, smiling. Ash frowned. That wasn’t the man he saw yesterday morning. That man had a black hair tied back in a long ponytail, and he wore dark sunglasses. He wore all black and had a black robe on his broad shoulders. He was certainly the action-anime type that Ash used to watch when he was younger.
“My name is Zac-“ he introduced himself. “-And I’ll accompany you at the Arena. If you’ll need anything, just call me! Now come, we have a lot to do.” Zac entered the building, and Ash followed hesitantly. Why did he get this strange feeling that something was wrong?
The place was too quiet. He could hear distant noises from a time to time, which sounded like cheering… of Pokemon?
The sparks were back at Pikachu’s cheeks, only this time Ash agreed with him. He just wished he had earlier…
Suddenly, Zac turned around to face him. “I’ll need to take your Pokemon.”
“What?” Ash asked in wonder. “Aren’t I supposed to fight with them?”
Zac laughed to himself. “Oh, no. Don’t worry, you don’t need them to compete.”
“What…?” now Ash was very confused. First his friends aren’t allowed to come, then he has to sign a contract, and now he doesn’t need Pokemon? Something was very very wrong…
“You’ll understand soon enough, Ash. Now give them to me or you’re disqualified.” Zac said in a harsh voice, still smiling, making Ash want to cower away with fear.
Ash looked at Pikachu sadly, and Pikachu looked back at him. Ash closed his eyes, took a deep breath and nodded. He has to compete! Just has to! And besides, after he wins he’ll get his Pokemon back…
…Right?
“You’ll get them back when the time comes.” Zac said, as if reading his mind, and then picked Pikachu up. Ash stared at him for a few seconds, and then sighed desperately and gave away his Pokemon. Zac took them and entered a nearby room, lingered there for a few minutes and then returned empty handed. Then he entered another room and returned with a bag. He smiled. Why the heck does he keep smiling? “Don’t worry about them. They’ll be fine. Now come.”
They arrived to a hall filled with cells, and Zac opened one of the many doors, revealing the “room” inside. “This is your room,” he said and pointed inside.
‘This?’ Ash thought. It was so tiny, and the ceiling was very low. He had to duck to come in. “No way in the world I’m sleeping in there! I’d rather sleep outside!”
“Do you want to be disqualified?” asked Zac threateningly, but his smile never left his face.
Ash’s face fell and he nodded in agreement. Zac’s smile widened and he pushed him inside. Ash crawled into the tiny room.
“In this bag there is everything you’ll be needing,” Zac said and gave him the bag. “And the monitor over there should start working soon. I hope you’ll watch it. That way, you could see who… you’re fighting against, and maybe even learn new stuff.” Zac didn’t even wait for questions Ash might ask before he closed the door behind him and… locked it.
‘Does this means that I’m stuck here until they decide I should come out?’ He thought sadly. He looked in the bag for a guide or something, but instead he found some food and… healing potions? ‘What in the world is going on here?’ thought Ash, starting to feel afraid.
Just then the monitor on the wall was turned on, and then he saw the so called Arena for the first time. It was huge, and looked like a modern Coliseum. He saw the two competitors entering the rink and standing in a battle mode, their loyal Pokemon standing by them. ‘Why aren’t they inside of a Pokeball?’
The bell rang, signaling that the battle should begin. Ash looked closely, expecting an exciting battle. To his surprise, the trainers entered instead of the Pokemon. One of the Pokemon, a Houndoom, barked an order (after all, Pokemon don’t speak the human language) and the trainer launched himself at the other trainer, and both of them started to fight like street bullies. Only then did Ash notice the irregular crowd: on the many rows of seats, Pokemon were seated. Pokemon.
Ash’s eyes widened in a sudden realization, even though he still had
dozens of questions running through his mind. ‘Now I’m positive there’s
something very wrong here…’
He just stared with sadness and anger as the two teens hit each other mercilessly, bleeding, panting, but never stopping to fight, until one of them fell, and the announcer declared a victory. “Trainer Roy Greenwood is the winner! I’m also glad to announce that he officially at level ten now, which means he’s free from the Arena! We wish you luck, Roy, and hope you won’t forget what you learned here! “
The Pokemon cheered, confetti was thrown…
…And the winner wept. Ash didn’t know if these were tears of happiness, sadness or rage, but he sure was surprised to find his own tears trickling down his cheeks.
“I must get out of here,” he whispered to himself in a chocked voice, as the big boss, Christopher, laughed in his office. Another trainer was about to gradually quit Pokemon training, starting this day.
Author’s Notes: Whoa, that was long o.O
I hope you liked it ^^
It’s summer vacation now, so I’ll update pretty soon.
Oh, and I’d like to thank Aragorn for making corrections. Thank you! You are the greatest! :D
Please, feel welcomed to leave a review ^^;
-E2K