The roar of the stadium enveloped Kenji like a thick blanket. The cheers of the crowd, the clash of weapons, and the roars of beasts blended into a deafening cacophony that sent vibrations through his bones. However, Kenji was not intimidated by the noise or the grandeur of the place. He was focused, ready to register and find out when he would face his destiny.
He made his way to the registration desk, tucked away in a corner of the stadium. A long line of aspirants waited their turn, chatting nervously and excitedly among themselves. Kenji joined the line, trying to ignore the curious glances directed at him.
After waiting for a while, it was finally his turn. A young man stood behind the desk, attending to the applicants with evident boredom. He had short, unkempt hair, a sour expression, and an academy uniform that looked like it had been worn for years.
The young man took Kenji's registration form and skimmed through it quickly. Then, he looked up and eyed him with contempt.
"Kenji…" the young man said, reading his name aloud. "Never heard that name before. Are you new around here?"
Kenji nodded. "Yes," he said. "I'm new to Kazehana."
The young man smirked sarcastically. "I see," he said. "A rookie. And you think you have what it takes to enter Ryūsei Academy?"
Kenji frowned, feeling irritation start to simmer within him. He didn't like the condescending tone or the dismissive attitude.
"I believe so," Kenji said, trying to stay calm. "I've worked hard to get here."
The young man scoffed. "Worked hard," he repeated mockingly. "That's what they all say. But the truth is, this world isn't for everyone. Only the strongest, the most talented, the most privileged can survive."
Kenji clenched his fists, resisting the urge to punch the smug official. He knew he couldn't afford to pick a fight. He was in enemy territory, and he couldn't jeopardize his chances of entering the academy.
"I know I'm not the strongest or the most talented," Kenji said, controlling his anger. "But I'm willing to fight for my dreams. I'm willing to give it my all."
The young man grinned maliciously. "Good," he said. "Then prove it. Show me what you're capable of."
The official began typing on his computer, looking up Kenji's records. To his surprise, the documents appeared quickly, confirming the information on his registration form. However, something caught his attention.
"This can't be…" the young man muttered in disbelief, his eyes snapping up to Kenji.
According to Kenji's files, he had been classified as "unfit for summoning," yet at the same time, he had managed to pass the entrance exams.
The young man smirked and raised his voice so everyone could hear. "What's going on, newbie? Do you think you can fool us?" The crowd turned to look at him, their eyes reflecting the same doubts as the official's. "If you don't have summoning abilities, how did you pass the exam? Did you cheat? You'd better leave before I call the guards. We don't allow cheaters here."
"Enough!" Kenji snapped, his veins bulging with fury. "You have no right to talk to me like that. I didn't cheat. If you must know, I do have a beast by my side, and I can summon it."
The young man burst into laughter. "I'd love to see that!" he said, crossing his arms. "Show me this so-called beast, capable of defying the monsters of the Forbidden Forest and exceeding Ryūsei Academy's expectations."
The mocking gaze of the official was mirrored by the crowd. Now all eyes were on Kenji, waiting to see if he could back up his words. The pressure was suffocating. He had no choice—he had to act fast.
Kenji took a deep breath and pulled a Poké Ball from his belt. He stared at it for a moment, feeling Charmander's energy inside. Then, he threw it into the air, releasing his partner in the center of the stadium.
A bright light filled the space, and as it dissipated, it revealed Charmander standing proudly on its two feet. The small Fire Pokémon let out a courageous roar, challenging everyone present.
A deathly silence took over the stadium. All eyes locked onto Charmander, analyzing its appearance and potential.
The young official burst out laughing. "Is that it?" he said, pointing at Charmander with disdain. "That's your powerful beast? A tiny lizard with a flame on its tail. You really think that's enough to enter Ryūsei Academy?"
The official's laughter spread to some of the crowd. Several aspirants began chuckling at Charmander, mocking its size and appearance.
"It's adorable," a girl said sarcastically. "But I doubt it could even hurt a fly."
"Maybe it could be a pet," another boy joked. "But not a battle partner."
Kenji clenched his fists, feeling humiliation burn through his body. He couldn't stand them mocking Charmander, underestimating it just because it was different.
"Don't laugh at him," Kenji said firmly. "You have no idea what he's capable of."
The young official stepped closer to Kenji, looking him in the eyes. "Oh really?" he said with a malicious smile. "Then show me. Show me what your little Charmander can do."
Kenji hesitated for a moment. He knew he shouldn't let himself be provoked, that he needed to stay calm and composed. But the contempt in the official's eyes was too much—he couldn't stand it.
"Fine," Kenji said, his voice filled with newfound determination. "I'll show you. I'll show you the power of fire."
Before he could act, a loud voice echoed through the stadium, interrupting the growing tension.
"What is going on here? Why is everyone raising their voices? Is this how we respect the academy we all strive to enter?"
Everyone turned toward the source of the voice, and a collective gasp filled the air when they realized who had spoken.
It was Miss Akari. She walked towards the registration desk, her expression firm and demanding an explanation.
Without hesitation, the young official scrambled to apologize, claiming that it had all been a misunderstanding. Akari raised an eyebrow and said, "I hope all of this doesn't affect my future classmates."
Silence reigned over the area, but suddenly, another loud noise erupted from the middle of the stadium.
"KENJI!" someone shouted at the top of their lungs, drawing all eyes toward what promised to be the next spectacle of this fateful day.