Disclaimer: not mine.

 

Author’s Note: when reading this fanfic, please make sure your room is brightly lit and don’t sit too close to the screen (Otakus should recognize this XD)

 

 

 

The Arena/Chapter Five

 

It was a lovely day. The sky was clear from clouds, the sun was warm, the birds chirped and all was good with the world.

 

The Pokemon-Center next to road thirty-two was quiet today, much to Joy’s contentment; no emergencies of Pokemon, whose trainers pushed them too far into battle, no robbers to come to try and steal the Pokemon, no trainers, whose wish was to sign up for the Hoenn League, and no reports of missing trainers. Joy had so many pictures and reports of missing trainers, that she didn’t know who was found and who was still missing. When she just started working there, she tried to memorize all the pictures, in case one of the missing trainers would come to the Pokemon-Center. But as time passed, she realized what a foolish thing that was.

 

She sat back in her chair, flipping through her magazine. This month, they had an interesting article about legendary Pokemon. Now if only she could find it…

 

She had to look up from her magazine when the door opened, and a young boy, about the age of fourteen, walked in. He was tall for his age, and had blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes. He looked around, as if he didn’t know where he should go.

 

She sighed. Her peace was over. “May I help you?” She asked politely in her pleasant voice, in spite of herself.

 

The boy turned to look at her, then smiled sheepishly, and then looked around again. “Ummm… I was wondering,” he said quietly, as if he was afraid to disturb anyone, even though the Center was empty. “Do you have some food I can take with me? ‘Cause the next town is pretty far, and I ran out of food so…”

 

She smiled at the boy’s shyness. “Of course. Wait here and I’ll get some. Do you need some Pokemon food, too?”

 

He seemed to jump slightly at that comment. “Uh… no. I don’t carry them with me…”

 

She cocked an eyebrow. “If you don’t carry any, what are you doing here in the wilderness?”

 

He looked down and put his arm behind his head in embarrassment. “Well, I… really can’t talk about it…”

 

‘He looks suspicious,’ Joy thought. ‘And very familiar…’ she told him to wait and went to the back. She went through the missing trainers reports, and felt victorious as her eyes fell on a certain picture. It was that boy. “Shannon Brooks,” she said to herself. “One missing trainer is finally found.” She smiled and walked out of the back room. Shannon was still standing there. “Shannon,” she said. Her suspicion was confirmed when he turned around as she called the name.

 

“How did you know my name?” he asked as his eyes widened a bit.

 

She handed him the report. “You were reported missing three months ago. Where have you been? And you should call your family and tell them you’re alright.”

 

Shannon sighed heavily. “I’d rather not talk about it…” he bowed. “Sorry for the disturbance.”

 

He was about to leave, but Joy stopped him from doing so. “Wait! I’ll give you some food! If you don’t want to tell me, then that’s alright. I should respect your privacy.”

 

He smiled and whispered a “thank you.”

 

She went to the back again, and returned with some goods. “Would you like to eat here?”

 

“Yes, thank you,” he said, took the food and sat by the table.

 

Joy smiled as she watched him. He acted like an innocent child, so gentle and polite. Some of the trainers were so rude that she found it surprising they were still allowed to be trainers.

 

An hour passed. The boy was still eating. Either he was very hungry, or either he was eating slowly. Very slowly.

 

The front door opened, and two teenagers walked in. One was a tall and tanned boy with spiky brown hair, and the other was a redheaded girl, holding a curious Togepi in her arms.

 

“Ah, Nurse Joy!” The boy called and ran over to the counter. “How lovely it is to see you! My, you look tired! How about we go on a dinner tonight and you could tell Brock all that is troubl-“ he was cut off as the girl dragged him by the ear, muttering something about boys and hormones. Joy watched as the girl whispered something to the boy, and he nodded. Then the girl marched to the counter.

 

“Good afternoon, Nurse Joy,” she greeted her with a smile.

 

Joy smiled back. “Good afternoon to you, too. What can I do for you?”

 

The girl’s smile disappeared. “A friend of ours, Ash-“

 

Shannon dropped the sandwich he was eating. ‘Ash? Are my ears deceiving me?’ he looked over to the counter and saw a young girl talking with Nurse Joy.

 

“-Said he was going to some league… it was four weeks ago. No league lasts longer than three weeks, and we became worried.”

 

The girl had tears in her eyes, and Joy guessed she feared the worst. “Well, uh… miss-“

 

“It’s Misty,” The girl said.

 

“Misty.” Joy repeated. “Well, Misty, what was the league called?”

 

“The Arena… I think.”

 

The sound of metal connecting with floor disturbed their conversation, and both women turned around and saw Shannon standing up, face pale and eyes wide. The chair he was sitting on fell as he stood up. He approached Misty and stared into her eyes. “Did you say ‘The Arena’? You have a friend, who’s called Ash and he’s in the Arena?” He asked, trying to confirm what he thought.

 

“Uh… yes?” Misty asked, feeling very uncomfortable under the boy’s gaze. She was sure she had never met him before, and yet, he approached her with such confidence…

 

“Ash Ketchum? His name is Ash Ketchum?” He asked again, raising his voice. Joy was surprised, to say the least. He seemed so quiet and polite at first glance.

 

 Misty gulped. She felt like he was a police officer, and she’d done a terrible crime against humanity. “Y-yes…” she stuttered. Fortunately for her, Brock chose this moment to enter the conversation… or investigation. Whatever you’d like to call it.

 

“Have you seen Ash? As in seen him after he’d gone missing four weeks ago?” He asked, not showing any sign of falling in love with Nurse Joy again, much to the nurse’s relief.

 

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ve seen him.”

 

Misty launched herself at him, holding him by his collar. “Where? When? How?”

 

Brock sweatdropped. “Misty, calm down! Let the guy speak!”

 

Reluctantly she let go of him and crossed her arms over her chest, now giving him the investigating stare.

 

“Could we discuss this somewhere private?” Shannon suggested.

 

All eyes turned to the Nurse. “There’s a small meeting room to the left.”

 

The three thanked her, and went to the room. Shannon locked the door, and motioned for them to sit down.

 

 

They sat in silence for a while, as Shannon chose the words carefully. “I’d rather not say much,” he chose to start with that, so not to give them the chance to investigate him any farther than he would like to tell them. “But your friend would remain missing at least for two months, four at the top. The ‘league’ he’s at is… it doesn’t include Pokemon battles. Trainers fight with trainers, and I mean fight, as in kicks and punches and such.” Shannon didn’t look at them as he spoke. He didn’t want to see their faces. “The one responsible of this place is against Pokemon battles, and for years he showed trainers how it feels like to fight like a Pokemon. I, too, was there, and was released a couple of days ago.” He showed them a wound on his left arm as a proof, though they didn’t need it. They believed him. “Just like in Pokemon battles, in the Arena you have to rise in levels. When you rise in three, you can leave. The stronger guys, like Ash Ketchum, are there for two months or so. The weaker stay longer. Some call it ‘the survival of the fittest’,” he chuckled at that, and then continued. “This place is almost like a prison…” He fought the tears that came with the bitter memories. How glad he was to be let go. He was free again… and so were his dear Pokemon. “This place… When your friend comes out, if he comes out-“

 

“Hold on a sec,” Brock cut him off. “If?” he asked, trying to comprehend what he was hearing. “What do you mean ‘if’?”

 

Shannon sighed. He didn’t want to tell them that. “Before I left,” his voice began to crack. “He was supposed to fight someone. Everyone waited for him in the rink, but he never showed up. After an hour, they moved on to the next battle. The only reason for Ash not to show up is…” he couldn’t continue and broke down, crying.

 

His best friend killed himself because of the Arena a month ago, and it made him sad to hear about others doing it, even if he did not know them.

 

“Is what?!” Misty practically screamed, feeling the tears stream down her cheeks. It hurt her to imagine Ash being torn from outside… and from Shannon’s reactions, she assumed he was torn from the inside, too.

 

Shannon sniffed, and tried to calm himself down, but couldn’t. He just cried harder.

 

“Tell me!” Misty hollered, ready to strangle the boy.

 

“Misty!” Brock shouted, glaring at her. “Can’t you see he’s suffering? I’m worried about Ash just as much as you do, but give the boy a chance to speak!”

 

“Fine!” she said and huffed. “But I don’t like this one bit!”

 

“Neither am I…” Brock said.

 

A few minutes later, Shannon calmed down. “Like I said,” He continued from where he left off. “The Arena is like a prison… and when you sit in that tiny cell, you have a lot to think about. And once you think enough, the guilt comes. And some just can’t handle the guilt, and then they…” a fresh wave of tears came over him.

 

“They kill themselves,” he said with an audible whisper and looked down to his feet.

 

“No!” Misty screamed. “He is not dead! Ash is definitely not dead!” her body shook. She refused to believe it. Ash was close to death more times than she could count, always pulling dangerous stunts to save his friends and Pokemon. He could not give in to something like… guilt! He just couldn’t!

 

“I have to agree with Misty about this,” Brock said, calm. “Ash is stubborn. He would not let some stupid fights to stop him from becoming a Pokemon Master. Ash is not one to choose the easy way out.”

 

“You don’t understand…” Shannon said and shook his head. “The Arena shows you what you’ve done wrong. No one trained his Pokemon ever again. They all let them go. I did, too. If they’ve been through what I’ve been through, then I want them to be free. No one should go through that fighting stuff.”

 

“Maybe he was just sick and couldn’t show up… or maybe something prevented him from showing up! Like in the Indigo League!” Misty said, hoping against hope that her best friend was alright.

 

Shannon shrugged and wiped his tears. “Could be, but I doubt it. They make us fight- it’s not like you can choose.”

 

“Then we must save him!” Brock declared. “Tell us where this Arena is!” he grabbed Misty’s arm and was about to leave, but Shannon ran to the door and blocked their way, glaring at them like they were his prey. “I will not allow you to do that! The Arena may be a bad place, but in some way… it shows you the light! You understand the errors of your ways, and if you ask me, every trainer should go there at least for a little while!”

 

Misty slapped him across the face. “How dare you?! Your friends are out there, hurting themselves, and here you are telling us that it’s alright?!”

 

He touched his red cheek to calm the stinging. “And I guess that making your Pokemon fight is better!” He countered, and unlocked the door. “You may look for it, but you’ll never find it. And one day, you’ll see that I was right! Your friend will not become a Pokemon Master. Not now, not ever.” With that, he left, leaving two gaping teenagers behind him.

 

“I don’t care what he says,” Brock said, turning to a distraught Misty. “I’m going to look for him! Ash would never leave us alone if such thing happened to us!”

 

“I’m coming with you!” Misty said. He nodded, and they left the Pokemon-Center, confident that they would free their friend…

 

 

…But it was too late. The damage had been done….

 

*~*~*

He was warm. Was this the warmth of heaven, which welcomed him? He didn’t see white, though. He read in books that heaven was a white and blinding place. But all was black- endless, everlasting blackness. “Where am I?” he tried to ask, but no voice came out of his mouth.

 

Someone was calling his name. Brock? No… Brock’s voice is younger and less deep. But that voice did sound somewhat familiar…

 

Someone was apologizing.

 

Someone was crying.

 

Someone was holding him.

 

He could feel that someone’s touch.

 

Wait… feel? He was dead!

 

Wasn’t he?

 

He tried to move his arms and legs, to feel the thing he was lying on.

 

Pain.

 

He screamed.

 

 

When Zac came to call Ash, he found the boy unconscious on the floor, a small puddle of blood was formed beneath him, and a small smile on his lips. For a moment, Zac just stood there, remembering the day he found little Zac in the same position. When he came out of his shock, he lifted Ash and ran to the clinic. When the nurse announced that he was still alive, Zac felt happier than ever before. After she bandaged his wrist, Zac demanded that he would stay in his room, and not in the clinic. Zac never left the boy’s side, and even stayed awake when night came.

 

“Please Ash… wake up… don’t die on me, please!” Zac called over and over again, but Ash never stirred. He was like this for two days now.

 

Suddenly, Ash’s face twitched and he moved a bit. Then he screamed.

 

Zac paled. What could be wrong with the boy? “Ash!” he called again. He grabbed the young boy’s shoulders and shook him. “Wake up, damn it! Wake up!” he felt another wave of tears come to his eyes, and wiped them away immediately. He cried enough as it is.

 

He ran out of his room to call the nurse. When he got to the clinic he spotted a nurse sitting by her desk and drinking black coffee, reading a magazine. She had short brown hair, and she was… full. The ashtray next to her seemed like it was smoking itself, which proved to him that she was a heavy smoker.

Zac frowned. ‘Is that how she treats her patients?’ He may have worked in the Arena for a few years now, but he wasn’t in the clinic that often.

 

“Nurse!” he called as he came to a stop next to her desk. She lifted her eyes to look at him, a bored look on her face. Then she resumed her reading.

 

“What is it?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

 

‘Probably because of the smoking,’ Zac assumed. “I have a patient in my room, and I think there’s something wrong with him.”

 

“Oh? And what makes you think that?” she asked, not interested. She never once removed her gaze from whatever female-junk she read.

 

Zac fumed. How dare she treat him like that? He snatched the magazine from her hands and threw it in the garbage can, gaining a glare from the middle-aged woman.

 

“Who do you think you are to treat me like that?” he asked, annoyed.

 

She cocked her eyebrow at him, and took her magazine out of the garbage, only to throw it in again after realizing it was soaked with the soda she threw in earlier.

 

“And who might you be?” she asked, still not looking at him.

 

“I’m Zac, Chris’ right hand man.” He answered, enjoying the sight of the nurse paling when she understood who he was.

 

“W-what can I do for you?” she asked, turning serious.

 

Zac smiled. It was at times like this when it really paid off to be in the top positions. “Well, like I said earlier, I have a patient in my room, and I think there’s something wrong with him… he started screaming suddenly, but he just won’t wake up… I’m really worried…”

 

‘Zac is worried?’ she thought. Zac was one of the more… uncaring people in the Arena. “Alright, show me the way and I’ll see what I can do for him.” She said and got up from her chair, taking a small case with her.

 

When the duo entered Zac’s room, Ash was still in his bed, of course, but he stopped screaming. Now he just breathed heavily, and sweated. The nurse wiped the sweat off of his face, and checked his wrist. “He’s bleeding again,” she told Zac. “He cut himself pretty deep… you saved him on time.” She removed the bandage and took care of the wound, then bandaged it up again. “Are you sure he didn’t wake up even once since you found him?” 

 

Zac nodded.

 

The nurse frowned. “Weird… he should have woken up. Maybe…” she trailed off.

 

“Maybe what?” Zac asked, hoping that there was nothing wrong with Ash.

 

“Maybe he doesn’t want to. He’s the first one to be saved from a suicide attempt. We all know why they’re doing it, so maybe, even though he’s alive, he’s still dead inside.” She explained and walked to the door. “Call me if you need anything,” she said and left.

 

Zac sank to his knees, not believing his ears. Since he prevented Ash from killing himself, he chose to do the next best thing- sleep and never wake up.

 

 

To Be Continued…

 

 

 

 

Author’s Note: Guess who edited? That’s right! Thank you, AragornEstel! ^_^

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-E2K