Disclaimer: see chapter one.

Author’s note: ummm...this time I don’t have much to say... *readers cheer* >_<

But I will say that I’m overjoyed! I got the Inuyasha art book!! :DD

YAY
^________^

[I’m a big eggplant]= Pokemon speech.

The Arena/ Chapter Three

Despair. It was a new feeling to Ash Ketchum. Sure, there had been some battles, in which he doubted he’d win, but he was never near desperation. It was... a terrible feeling. For hours he sat in his cell, knees bent and head bowed. His muscles were cramped from sitting like this, but he didn’t have enough room for a comfortable position. He felt hopelessness. He knew exactly what was waiting him once he comes out, and he preferred the tiny cell over the damned Arena. He was released from the clinic two days ago, but hadn’t fought his second battle yet. They said he needed to “regain his strength”. Feh.

He spent a whole week at the clinic, and it surprised him. When his Pokemon got hurt in a battle, they would spend less than a day at the Pokemon-Center. When he told Jason this, he told him that Pokemon have natural healing abilities, and they recover pretty fast. Humans, on the other hand, don’t. Their bodies need more time before they’re fully healed.

A day later he was released. Jason had to stay a bit longer. He remembered clearly the conversation they had on the day he left the clinic...

“Can you smile?” Jason asked as Ash stretched his aching muscles.

“Huh?” asked Ash, confused. “Of course I can smile! What kind of a stupid question is that?”

Jason chuckled. “I mean, now. When you’re here. Can you smile? A genuine smile, not one of mocking or irony. Can you smile here... of happiness?”

Ash stood there, not able to answer. Jason chuckled again. “Of course not. No one can. But you know, you need to laugh here sometimes, or else the desperation will swallow you. Sure, they give us good food, make sure we’re not too cold or too hot, sometimes they even make social gatherings so we can ‘bond’. But no matter what, all the trainers here suffer from an inner dilemma. You told me once about the eyes of the trainers here, how sad and tired they are. These people let their desperation take hold of them, and many of them… many of them never leave the arena.” Jason finished in a sad tone, turning his gaze to the blankets on his bed.

“What do you mean?” asked Ash, confused. “They never win? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Jason shook his head, shutting his eyes. “They-“, he took a deep breath before continuing. “They’re beginning to become hopeless, and once they can’t stand it anymore…they kill themselves.”

Ash paled. “Wha-what? How?”

“What do you mean how? Never mind… usually, they use the knives we get with the food. It’s as if they provide us a way out. It’s terrible.” Jason shook his head again.

“How many-?” Ash asked, but Jason cut him.

“Plenty. That’s why you have to laugh. You can’t let yourself become hopeless, you hear me?! Laugh about your situation, think of fun stuff, like the world outside. Hope that you can leave someday!” Jason yelled. He made some friends in the Arena, and some of them he’ll never see again. He had to prevent

Ash from doing what they did.

“How can I laugh at something so cruel?” Ash asked, horrified that Jason even suggested such a thing.

“People tell jokes about the poor, about wars, even about holocausts and such. It’s a way of dealing with situations. So think happy and you’ll survive the Arena. Promise me! Promise me that you’ll laugh!”

Ash was about to say “I promise”, but instead he lowered his head and mumbled: “I-“ he gulped. “I’ll try…”

Jason felt his gut turning.

Ash couldn’t remember hearing about a Pokemon committing suicide, so he figured the Arena is a bit different from Pokemon battles. Or maybe the human way of dealing with it is different. But it did make him wonder if Pokemon feel desperate: most of the times they’re released from the Pokeballs they have to battle. And just like Ash doesn’t want to fight, he figured that neither did they.

Speaking of Pokemon, he wondered what his were doing right now…

*~*~*

Pikachu sat on the greener hill he ever saw, ate the tastiest apple he ever ate, and was happy like he never was. Yup, Ash sure made his Pokemon happy, taking them to a vacation in this beautiful Pokemon-Park. He didn’t know where the rest were, except for Totodile, whom he knew was swimming and playing in the lake. But Pikachu couldn’t help but wonder where Misty and Brock’s Pokemon were.

He took another bite of his red apple, savoring the wonderful taste. He sighed contently and lay on his back, watching the white clouds drift above. He closed his eyes - taking a nap seemed like a very good idea.

Suddenly, he felt a shadow over him and opened his eyes, only to come face to face with an Ivysaur. “Pika!” he screamed and sat up. “Pika pika, pikachu pi pika!” [You shouldn’t scare Pokemon like that!]

“Saur…”[sorry] The Ivysaur said sheepishly. (A/N: umm… I think I’ll write just the translation from now on ^^;)

[You could have given me a heart attack! Sheesh…] Pikachu said, trying to calm his pounding heart with deep breaths.

[Well, I said I’m sorry. You just seemed… very happy. You hate your trainer or something?] The Ivysaur asked, sitting beside Pikachu.

[What?] Pikachu asked, surprised. He could never, would never, hate Ash! [Of course not! What kind of a question is that?]

[You’re new here, right? Only the newbies can act all happy... until they find out about their trainers…] The Ivysaur said sadly, looking down at the green, lush grass.

[Wh-what do you mean?] Asked Pikachu, now beginning to feel worried.

[Well, I guess I should tell you. You’ll find out sooner or later, anyway.] The Ivysaur looked at Pikachu in the eyes, to prove that he was not lying, and began his explanation. [Your trainer is in a place called “The Arena”. I don’t really know what’s happening there, but they say that trainers have to fight with each other without Pokemon. That means with fists and kicks. It’s all part of a plan to make them quit Pokemon training.]

[How do you know?] Pikachu asked, doubtful. It didn’t make sense. Why would someone want someone else to quit Pokemon training?

[Rumors spread. Besides, when the trainers come to pick us up after two months or more, they always look sad… and I heard a flock of Pidgeys discuss about how the trainers release their Pokemon to the wild afterwards.] the Pokemon’s eyes were now fixed on the horizon, as if he was waiting for something.

[Then we have to save the trainers!] Pikachu declared, standing up.

[Impossible] said the Ivysaur, closing his eyes and shaking his head. [We were transferred to the wild. No one can catch us, since technically, we are already captured. Once a trainer is released from the Arena, they send him or her here to pick up their Pokemon.]

[That’s a lie!], yelled Pikachu, refusing to believe.

The Ivysaur stood up and turned to walk away. [Believe what you want, my friend. We’ve all been through the denial stage.] With that, the Ivysaur walked slowly down the hill and disappeared from Pikachu’s view.

Suddenly, Pikachu didn’t care about the hills or apples. He just wanted to find the other Pokemon and then go look for Ash. Because if what that Ivysaur said was true (not that he believed it or anything…), then Ash may be in deep trouble.

*~*~*

Somehow, Ash managed to stretch his body to a lying position. He was so tired… he just wanted to close his eyes and wake up to the sight of the Arena blowing up. Yeah, that would be a remarkable thing. He looked at the screen beside him on the stone wall - a battle has just begun. He didn’t want to watch it, though. He just wanted to go to sleep, but found it pretty hard since there was no pillow, and the mattress was made out of rock. He snorted and closed his eyes, willing for the sleep to come. He tried to think of fun stuff, like Jason suggested him. He thought about Brock’s food, and Misty’s yelling… he missed his best human friends. He thought about the beautiful plains of Pallet-town, about his mother… he thought about his next badge…

Wait… a badge? Does he even want to get it? Doubt began filling his mind right after the first battle. Does he want to train his Pokemon longer? Does he want to be a Pokemon Master?

Questions filled his mind, but he was too tired to seek answers, and so, he fell asleep.

He woke up when he heard someone calling his name. He was still half-asleep, so he closed his eyes again, mumbling something about Brock and sleeping. The calls got louder, though, and Ash woke up fully, screaming at whoever disturbed his sleep.

“My my, aren’t we just full of energy today?” said the voice. Ash recognized it immediately, and he certainly preferred Brock over the evil, annoying speaker.

“What do you want now?” Ash asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Well, I just wanted to tell you to get ready for your next battle. Zac will come to pick you up in a moment. Wish you luck!” With a screech, the voice was gone.

Ash groaned as he lifted himself to a sitting position. His entire body ached. How was he supposed to fight that way?

The small door of the cell opened, and Zac peeked inside, that annoying smile still plastered on his face. “Come on out, Ash. A big battle awaits you!” he signaled with his hand for Ash to get up. Ash crawled out and stood up, his bones making noises as he stretched them, making his face twitch with the slight pain. They walked down the hall, the cheers of the crowd in the Arena getting louder as they approached. When Zac opened the big doors, Ash had to shield his eyes from the sudden light.

“Pikachu,” he heard a voice from below, and saw the Pikachu standing next to him, a determined look on his face and sparks coming out of its’ red cheeks. Ash wondered why the Pikachu is acting that way, until he saw the Squirtle on the other side of the rink. They were glaring at each other, each want to win no matter what… and they don’t care if the humans would get hurt in the process.

This is wrong! Ash always cared about his Pokemon! He could never let them get hurt!

Then it hit him. Visions of all of his battles replayed in his mind, how his Pokemon fainted and he called them back, praising them for the good work and… kept on glaring at his opponent and declaring that he shall win.

Suddenly he couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. He couldn’t breathe. He started shaking all over.

“Is something wrong?” asked Zac, but Ash didn’t hear him. He didn’t feel him pushing him into the center of the ring. He didn’t hear the cheers nor the announcer declare that the battle has begun. Only the punch in his stomach shook him out of his trance, and he flew backwards, landing on his rear.

He saw his opponent looming over him, ready to land his next punch, but Ash dodged just in time. He didn’t strike back, though. That part still didn’t come naturally to him. The opponent must have thought that the stomach is a good place to hit him at, because that’s the only place where he hit. Eventually, Ash fell to the ground. He coughed, and was surprised to see the red spots on the ground. ‘Blood?’ he thought, paling. He couldn’t remember the last time he bled - it was so long ago. Internal bleeding - that wasn’t a good sign, was it? ‘Damn.’

The opponent kicked him again, forcing him to stay on the ground. Once again, that feeling of rage spread through Ash’s body, and before the opponent could finish him, Ash leaped up and charged at him, putting all his might and remaining strength on the task of hitting him back. This time, though, it wasn’t so easy. The other boy was stronger than he thought. Ash wasn’t able to dodge most of the punches, but he did manage to land quite a few. Every punch was an added wood to the fire, only making it grow bigger and more forceful.

Ash managed to push the opponent down, and both rolled on the ground, hitting each other.

The crowd cheered loudly as the fight raged on. The opponent tried to kick him from his place on the floor, but Ash managed to move aside and fire a kick at the place, most men find very sensitive…

The opponent squirmed and screamed, holding his aching groin. Ash stood up, panting.

“And the winner is Ash Ketchum! Congratulations, Ash! Just one more win and you’ll rise to level six!” The announcer yelled into the microphone, and the crowd roared with joy.

Ash on the other hand, wasn’t happy at all. He just stared at the palm of his hand, thinking, ‘is that all I am? An animal?’ he squeezed his palm into a fist and fell to his knees, his eyes shut as thousands of thoughts flooded his tired mind.

‘I don’t want to be an animal… I want to be me! To be Ash Ketchum from Pallet! I want to be a Pokemon Master…’ a single tear slid down his cheek and fell to the ground. Did he really want to be a Pokemon Master? Did he really want to make his Pokemon fight?

‘I… I want…’ He felt arms lifting him up and dragging him outside of the rink as the announcer declared on the next battle.

“I want to go home…” he whispered, yet no one heard his plea, and he was back on the hospital bed in no time.

Ash hoped to be in the same room as before, next to Jason. He was sure that Jason had already gone through that desperation stage, and wanted - no… needed his advice. Imagine his disappointment when he found out that he was put in a room, next to the opponent he just fought against, and won.

“H-hello,” Ash said hesitantly, trying to be polite. The boy in the bed next to him turned his head towards him, cocked an eyebrow, and returned to stare at the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing on earth.

‘How rude,’ thought Ash, smiling a bit as that thought reminded him of “Full House”. “I’m Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town, and-“

“No one here cares who you are, kid,” the other boy said. By that term of use, Ash guessed he must have been older than him. “We’re all the same when we’re here, and when we’re out of here. If that ever happens…” he frowned.

“You mean we’re all animals?” asked Ash, recalling his previous thoughts and what Jason had told him.

“What?” the other boy asked, confused. “No no. I didn’t mean that. I mean, it’s true that deep inside we’re just like a lion or a tiger, but I meant that here, your name doesn’t matter. You are a human. Just like a Donphan that is a Pokemon, or a Sentret, or a Natu… just you name it. Sure, they call out your name at the beginning of every battle, just like you call to your Pokemon. Think of one of your Pokemon - when you call it out of its’ Pokeball, do you think of it by its name, or by the fact that it’s a Pokemon? After all, a Pidgeot can be called #18 for all you care. The only thing that matters to you is that it’s a Pokemon, and that it can fight for you.”

“That is not true!” Ash yelled. He cared about his Pokemon more than he cared about himself!

“Are you sure?”

Ash didn’t replay. The truth was hard to handle.

*~*~*

Zac sat in his small office, going through profiles of some trainers in the Arena. He stopped when one last name caught his eye. His eyed widened.

“Is something wrong?” asked his secretary, who at the moment took care of the plant next to the door. She was tall with long, black, flowing hair, and she had green eyes.

“Come here for a second, Mary“, Zac said quietly, the paper never leaving his hard gaze.

“What is it?” The young woman asked as she approached him.

“Ketchum… is not a common last name, is it?”

Mary cocked her head to the side. “I’ve never heard of it,” she said, only confirming Zac’s suspicion

“I thought so,” he said, finally putting the paper down on the wooden table.

“Why did you ask?” she asked him, now interested. It’s rare when Zac is actually interested in one of the Arena trainers. Of course, there was this one time… but they all tried to forget it.

“Never mind,” he said, not really listening to what she said. “Look, I have some business to take care of. Can you lock here?”, he asked, starting for the door.

Mary blinked in confusion. “Sure thing.”

As Zac closed the office door behind him, he began to wonder. ‘I knew that name sounded too familiar…’ He stopped next to a window and opened it, breathing in the evening’s air. ‘So she changed it back to her youth name. I’m not surprised.’ He marveled at the breath-taking sky, turning from red to purple as the sun sat in the distance. ‘The sky… is the same as that fateful day…’

To Be Continued…

Author’s note: I guess you can guess who Zac is by now… I swear that idea just popped into my head. Thought it could fit nice in the story. Tell me what you think, k?

Oh, and by the way, I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen next (well, I do have some ideas… but not enough for a whole chapter), so feel free to leave a suggestion in a review *hint hint*, or e-mail me with one.

After reading some parts of the story again, I noticed a mistake, so please put in mind that Ash has to win seven more battles, not ten. My math skills suck -_-

And once again, my thanks to AragornEstel for editing, and, of course, to you my wonderful reviewers, who reviewed my story so far! Feel free to leave a review now, too ^^;

-E2K