Pokemon One-Shots and Headcanons

A Hero?

It was a calm, peaceful Tuesday afternoon when Greninja finally snapped. His temper, which had been dangerously close to boiling point for weeks, finally erupted into an uncharacteristic bout of violence. 

He would have found the irony quite amusing, had the situation been any different. Here everyone was, enjoying a beautiful afternoon, and he was out punching faces and breaking noses. And the odd part was, he found that he rather enjoyed the feeling. Of course, he was still angry and frustrated, but there was a certain rush of adrenaline that came from giving someone a good sock in the jaw that he had never experienced with his usual style of attacking from afar. No wonder Hawlucha enjoyed hand-to-hand combat so much. 

Unfortunately, it seemed that Pikachu was less thrilled about his sudden affinity for punching things. After pulling him off of his struggling victim, the electric mouse dragged him into a private area of the forest for a talk. 

"Explain," he said, folding his arms. 

"Not much to explain, Pikachu," Greninja replied shortly. "You might as well just do whatever you're going to do. Attack me as punishment, report me to Ash and have me thrown off the team, whatever." 

Pikachu sighed. "You know perfectly well that I don't want to do any of that. All I want to know is why you felt the need to go to that length." 

"Because I felt like it. How's that?" the frog Pokemon replied snippily. 

"Not good enough," Pikachu replied, shaking his head. 

Greninja clenched his fists. "No? All right, then how's this for an explanation? Excuse me, Pikachu, when I say that I'm pissed. Okay? I can't take it anymore, walking around and finding that everywhere I go, I run into people who hate me just because they feel like it." 

It felt good to get that off his chest, so Greninja decided to keep going, releasing all the pent-up frustration and pain he'd been holding back for years. Once he started, he found he couldn't stop. 

"I can't concentrate on training, I can't eat, I can't sleep, and I don't even want to, so there goes my motivation for doing any of those things," he went on. "It was bad enough being the outcast at the breeding center, but at least then I could escape occasionally by sneaking out. I can't do that anymore. Thanks to this stupid bond form, I've become pretty much the most famous Pokemon in the entire Kalos region, and as such I've got countless Pokemon coming up to me, telling me how much of a disappointment I am and how the only reason I made it this far was by using Ash's strength. And all I hear is, 'Don't let it get to you, Greninja. They're only trying to get a reaction out of you. They just want to wind you up,'." Well, guess what? It's working. I am wound up–they are getting to me. Maybe they're not worth it, but I just can't ignore it anymore, because I'm sick of people telling me how to feel and I just can't take it anymore." 

Greninja let out an exhausted sigh, most of his energy now spent. He turned to face Pikachu again, suddenly feeling as though he had aged a hundred years. 

"And...this whole bond phenomenon...why me?" he asked wearily. "The last Pokemon who had it was some great hero–hell, he saved his entire village. But...I'm just a regular old Pokemon, on a journey with my trainer. That's all. So why was I given this power? I'm no hero." 

Pikachu's eyes softened. "Oh, Greninja," he said quietly. "I think you are."