Entropy's Arena | Pokémon One-shot

Entropy's Arena

So, this weakling who left his luggage in Johto is supposed to be our hero.

The other Frontier Brains have that consensus, and I can do little to open their eyes to the fraud whose feet they're grovelling at. Never would I have imagined I'd see the day old man Spenser transforms into a Poochyena, or Lucy acting like her favourite Seviper. Funny how a stupid ultimatum from the Lord of Irrationality has made vermin out of everyone else.

"You have one month to make a positive difference or I will shut you down and build a resort in your graveyard!"

Excellent, Scott. If our bodies are found, you'll be the prime suspect.

Not 'if', but 'when'. I doubt this silver-haired boy is our saviour. Unless he knows magic, we won't be budging. What's that weird crimson tattoo on the back of his hand? Oh, yes, a mockery.

I tap my foot and clear my throat. Everyone glances my way as if I'm a Kecleon whose Camouflage's backfired. Love their blank stares.

"Kaspar Wolfram, yeah? Battle Consultant or whatever from Johto?"

He nods with a drop of sweat. Clearly he knows I've seen through his ruse.

"I've read your file. You're Greta, the Arena Tycoon. You're as snobbish as I expected."

I grimace. "Your coffee must've been spiked."

"You must've been the culprit then," Kaspar says. "I've not told anyone."

Rolling my eyes, I resist the urge to slap him. Better to let our Pokémon do the talking. That's more effective.

An eldritch howl penetrates the air.

Huh, so he's got the grim reaper with him. If he thinks that's all it takes to intimidate me, then he's wrong.

"You can't even keep your Houndoom in her place, can you?" I smirk and cross my arms. Ignoring Brandon's hushing, I continue, "You people from Johto don't know Poké Balls exist? And you think you're all high and mighty to advise us?"

Kaspar takes a step forward, the gloomy faces of his worshippers lying in his shadow as he draws his amber eyes into slits. What now, judging my black and purple keikogi?

"Says the one who knows nothing of our culture. Our first Pokémon walk alongside us wherever we go. Maybe you should fix your prejudice while we fix the system." He pauses, perhaps out of regret. That's right, know your place, freak. He adds, "You're hinting at something."

"Let's battle." I extend a hand and beckon him to follow. "I will reveal the truth about you."

"Ha." As I turn, a hand flies to his temple and his façade collapses as I anticipated. "If that's what you want."

Sounds like you want to expose yourself too. I put on a smug smile and lock him in my peripheral vision. Now, all that's left is to grant his wish.

• • •

Along the way to the Battle Arena, our crafty guest passes judgemental glances, especially at the trees. He must be afraid of Bug-types, from the looks of it as he slows his stride and asks Anabel what's in the forest. She tells him it's his favourite type and there's lots of Beedrill who'll love to keep him company. His other worshippers, vying for his attention, answer his incessant questions on Hoenn, the situation at hand and go so far as to remark that my mood isn't always like a Skuntank's ass - loving that compliment, Tucker!

When we pass the high walls of my dojo and soak in the presence of my disciples, though, Kaspar crumbles further. From the umpteenth time he rubs his sweaty palms against his grey hoodie, he must've finally realised I'm not someone to be taken lightly.