The Heir

A two-badge trainer cracked his knuckles as he saw the referee's flags rise. The seats themselves roared throughout the stadium. I always ignored the announcer when I was the one fighting. It was always the same voice spoken by a different person, guessing what I was doing and putting thoughts in my head. Many of them had the skill to have earned five or six badges, but not the eight required to be a master. It always amused me that they thought they had the right to criticize anything going on in the heads of real competitors.

“Self-assuredness in the throw from rookie, Zane, entered as an apprentice of the former champion, Cyan.” Blared throughout the stands. Most of the spectators nodded and muttered along as if it were some great wisdom they’d also thought of. “He chooses a Songbat.” I recognized his voice from somewhere, a bit nasally and filled with fake confidence.

“Well, Bro… These are famously unwieldy for a newbie to try and capture!” His partner scolded him. I looked up toward the announcers’ box. They were Dane and Nate, those Starlight grunts.

“Do you think he caught it himself? Maybe Champion Cyan saved him from it…”

“That seems likely… Oh! And, Trainer Bruce’s Fernthorn misses its attack! It’s struggling to stay awake!

“Eh, it’ll be fine. I don’t think recalling it would be a good choice.”

“No, not at all. Recalling when you could attack instead doesn’t really make sense.” Morons.

I pulled myself out of my seat as Zane’s opponent sent in his second Capmon. The two officials at the entrance to the announcer’s box quivered as they saw me, “Th-this is for tournament staff only!”

“Complain to the organizer,” I shoved between them and sat down in front of the microphones, pushing Nate aside slightly. His Wizzel was wrapped around his wrist. As it sniffed me, it growled.

“Hey, uh… Whadda ya doin’, Champion?” Dane grumbled.

A tall woman wearing a full suit put her hand on his shoulder. She whispered, “Remember, it’s a hot mic.”

“Get these two interns out of here,” I rolled my eyes as I held the microphone up to my mouth, “Recalling? Attacking? Do these guys even know what they’re talking about?”

“C-Cyan!” The woman yelped. She wasn’t sure whether to scold me for barging in or to ask for an autograph.

“What did I tell you to do?” I glared at her, “What if some kid was listening to this and copied their amateur advice?”

“I’ll show ya amateur!” Nate balled up his fist.

Dane pushed him back, “It’s not worth it.”

“They just threatened me,” I yawned, “please call security to remove them.”

Instead, when two guards in full blue-and-gold protective gear ran in, Capture Balls held firmly in their hands, they looked at me, “Go,” one pointed out the door. If I started to a fight with them here, that would have become the main attraction instead of Zane’s battle.

I looked out the window, Tenor was cleaning up the opponent’s last Capmon, already. It was a clean sweep. I spoke into the microphone, “This has been a nice battle, I’ll be going now.”

“What were you thinking?” One of the security guards put his hand firmly on my back as he led me out. A patch on his arm showed the symbol of SolveCorp. A golden Serpantii in the shape of an S with a blue C around it. The Serpantii’s ivory fangs hang down from its mouth.

“I could have done a better job than the men you hired.”

“Some of the viewers like it when the announcers say what they’re thinking. Who cares if it’s stupid?” He smirked. A spark ran up my back, and he yelped as he pulled his hand away from it, “What the hell was that?”

“Static electricity,” I shrugged, “it seems to follow me everywhere, lately.”

The tournament organizer stomped toward me, his yellowed teeth flashing as he opened his mouth, “If you ever try to embarrass me like that again!” He started.

An aide chased after him, holding a little clipboard in her hands. She whispered in his ears, “Sir, the ratings…”

He pursed his lips, “At least tell me if you want to cause a scene, damn it!” An organizer of some tournaments, a businessman who went to others like a vulture, he was the under-secretary to the CTO of SolveCorp, a title he flaunted whenever he could.

I smiled sweetly, “Would you have believed me that this would have worked?”

“Do you know what people would do if I had a goddamn champion arrested for trespassing?” He sputtered, “Since when did all the good trainers become little kids?”

“I don’t think it’s so bad,” it really didn’t make sense that he was annoyed with me. I was a human right now, a champion. Just because he was some SolveCorp exec didn’t give him any right to tell me how to do my job. I gritted my teeth. I was completely in the right.

The organizer frowned. He started to say something when his aide passed him a buzzing phone. She mouthed, “It’s the central office.” The organizer grabbed it. He shook his head and passed the phone to me, “It’s for you.”

I held my hand out, “Tell them I can wait.”

He clicked the speaker button on the phone. I started away as a voice echoed through it. It was low and deep, almost whispering but amused. “Cyan, Cyan, Cyan,” he clicked with his tongue as if he was beckoning a small animal, “unless you’d prefer to be named something else. I’m also a man of many names- at least two.”
I held still and turned back toward the phone, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“My name is Dr. Hans Fine. I have funded many of your grandfather’s projects.”

The organizer cleared his throat, “Dr. Fine is the CTO of our company.”

“Very well,” I pressed my hands together. My knuckles flashed as little jolts ran under them, “Dr. Fine, what did you want from me? My time is very valuable.”

“I thought it was adorable how you did such a thing just to protect that boy’s reputation. You didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t do it for him.”

“Zane, was it? You must be eager to get back to him. Run along now, he must be getting worried. Daddy’s calling.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. Just who do you think you are?”

He cackled, “A god over princes and princesses.”

“Are you listening to this?” I smirked to the organizer, “This lunatic is your boss?”

The man on the phone clapped once, “Oh, Cyan. Do you think champions and trainers are paid from tax money? That tournaments are built from charity? The nurses who bring Capmon back from the dead are employed by somebody. Shouldn’t you be thankful for that?”

“You should know those announcers are members of the Starlight Gang.”

“Their employment will be terminated thanks to your recommendation, I assure you, Champion. I hope they won’t return to crime once they’re without income,” he hissed, “I thought you destroyed the Starlight Gang, Champion. You wouldn’t want to think they slipped through your fingers, would you? The ten-year-old girl who couldn’t singlehandedly end crime.”

“With your resources…”

“Are you saying that should be my responsibility? No. That is the ecosystem. The plants cannot exist without the apex predators. The arboreal creatures may eat some seeds, but in the end, the trees profit anyway. Without the leaves, you do not breathe. With that in mind, do not kill the hunters.”

“You’re not against the Starlight Gang?”

“Of course not.”

“Dr. Fine, I will…”

“You won’t!” His whisper broke into a sudden yell, “Imagine a nurse at the exact moment when she is needed. She slips by a hair’s imprecision. There are the healers who truly believe in their craft. Then, there are the ones who are my friends, my partners. Humans, yet my Capmon- like everyone. So soon as I should beware of you, you must beware of them. So, be a good girl. I will be your benefactor if you choose it.

“I am not the only champion who would…”

“Your friend, Fire, did have a short disagreement with us. I admit. And then, you disappeared. See, champions are terrifying in a fair fight. Fire is a good friend of mine, now. That happened as soon as he realized he was no different from any child without his Capmon beside him. And the three before you two kids? The old guys? They’ve been my partners since long before you were even conceived.”

I stood straight up, breath slowly shaking in my lungs. My hair spread out wildly, shaking with electricity exploding out from within me. It surged out in all directions, throwing the organizer and his aide to the ground. The phone clattered against the metal floor. I snatched it in my hand, “Dr. Fine, you’re lying to me.” I ran to help the organizer up, but he slapped my hand away as he pushed himself off the ground.

“Of course I’m not. I can get everything I want just by telling the truth,” he started whispering again, “every last thing. When you inevitably drop out of this tournament… your pre-existing circumstances must catch up to you… What will the story be? Will the media explain that you left for a necessary reason? Something heroic, something like a champion would do? Or were you afraid of a tournament full of nobodies?”

“Come here yourself and we will answer to each other properly.”

“No.”

I blinked, “No?”

“Why would I ever pick a fair fight? Fair fights don’t exist. Even coins are slightly unbalanced when flipped. If it’s fair for you, then I should avoid it. You’re a tactician, Cyan. Isn’t this simply a self-evident truth, a strategy you would employ in a battle?”

“Are you afraid of me?” I taunted him.

“I’m afraid for you,” he said, “you’re rather volatile lately, unstable. I don’t want you to make a mistake that you will regret… forever… I’m not in the business of wasting useful arrangements. You’re worth a high opportunity cost, but I don’t want to keep watching my expenses grow.”

“And what would that mean?”

“Keep at what you’ve been doing,” he insisted, “but don’t ever try something like your stunt in the announcers’ box again. My subordinates only know what they’re supposed to, but me? I know everything, Bianca…” He pretended to clear his throat, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I misspoke. Cyan. You’re Cyan.”

“How?”

“That’s a trade secret. Run along now, little one. Don’t be too naughty.” He hung up the phone with a loud click.

I went back to my room. My muscles were sore. When I looked down at my arm, I saw yellow sparks running through my veins, so bright that they were visible through my skin. Each of my nerves felt it individually. I didn’t change back yet. None of my matches were challenging, and I secured my place in the final easily.

More surprisingly, Zane clinched his way into the Semifinal. He ran to my room to tell me, his legs shaking under him. I was lying spread out across the floor. My head and neck rested painfully against a wall. The little jolts of electricity were flashing away from me constantly now, stinging so badly I could hardly watch. My fingers and toes twitched involuntarily.

He didn’t even seem to notice, “I did it! I did it!” He yelped, “I’ve only gotta beat Chii now, and I’ll be against ya in the championship!”

“Th-that’s great,” I said through my teeth.

“Wanna go get lunch?”

“Z-Zane?” I mumbled, “No, not now. None of that.”

“Really?” He bounced on his feet, “I wanted to ask you how to beat Twiglo.”

“Save Tenor for last,” I winced, “Tenor can outpace it if you play it right.”

“Tenor lost before.”

My heart shook, beating twice at once, then freezing in one of the jolts before speeding up again, “Y-yeah… Don’t let him lose again…”

“Okay!” He smiled, then stopped, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Great.” I scratched at the ground with my fingernails, “Now go on. Get ready.”