Truth or Snare?
chapter two: a nice, cheap dinner

Seven o' clock sharp. A light summer breeze billowed across the Pokemon League, sending the leaves whispering and the grass rippling like the sea. The sunlight was receding, the glow of twilight shimmering on the waves of the ocean. If a man looked closely at the heavens, he would see the first star of the night, twinking amidst a palette of pastel hues and the deep, azure depths of the oncoming night.

The evening was, without a doubt, the perfect time for a romantic outing.

A certain man there, however, had no intentions of celebrating the beautiful world. He was pacing around the building, muttering impatient and incoherent scientific formulas to himself. His dislike of waiting was only rivaled by his hatred of emotions, purple prose, and meddling children. And as each second ticked by, he found himself wondering whether or not this "date" would ever come to fruition.

Chillax, boss, Mars sang into the earpiece. Girls like to be fashionably late.

"Must I do this?" He muttered, trying to ignore how the nature was taunting him. "Perhaps her acceptance of my proposal was merely a lie."

It's only ten seconds past seven, Jupiter grumbled. Not everyone has a freakish internal clock.

Besides, she wouldn't stand you up, Saturn quipped. And even if she does, you still have to go on the date. Kidnap her, or something. Now that would be hot.

"And illegal," the Galactic Boss snarled. The commanders looked at each other. The man had threatened to blow up cities, planned to summon the power of deities, captured the three guardians that kept balance in Sinnoh, scarred a few lives, almost ended a few others, gave millions of children nighmares, infiltrated powerful corporations, blackmailed three innocent teenagers to do his bidding, defiled Eterna's Pokemon statue, held hour-long speeches about nap room policies...

...and he was worried that a one-night kidnapping would break the law? The heck?

"I am beginning to wonder if the benefits of this 'date' outweigh the repercussions," Cyrus continued, as if his last statement hadn't been totally uncharacteristic of him. "I am currently taking no enjoyment in it, despite the fact that you three have insisted on me attending. The notion of a romantic evening is quite ridiculous to me, and is, by no means, instrumental to our master plan. Therefore, I-"

An abrupt silence. The three commanders tilted their heads, trying to pick up the remainder of his rant. Nothing.

"'Therefore I' what?" Saturn asked nobody in particular, casting a questioning gaze on Jupiter, who shrugged. Mars rolled her eyes.

"Idiots. The date's probably starting." A devilish smirk spread across her lips. "This should be amusing."

True enough, the date had begun. The League Champion had exited the building and was taking reluctant, pained strides towards him. Immediately, the man before her felt taken aback, a reaction that was incredibly foreign to him. He felt as if every dictionary in the world had run out of adjectives and he had none to use for the occasion.

Indeed, the way Cynthia looked wasn't too easy to describe in words. She was wearing a black sleeveless dress, one that fell around her ankles and highlighted her every feature. Her hair had been left untouched, save for the absence of the ornaments she usually wore. It cascaded down her back, a striking gold contrast to her clothing.

She bore the whole thing with a hatred so strong that it rivaled only her overwhelming desire to kill the man in front of her.

This reminds me, she told herself, gritting her teeth as she took the painful few steps towards her date. I will never get married. I will never have a wedding. I will never go on a fancy date ever again and this is the sole reason why.

A few more seconds passed before she approached the man reluctantly, her eyes boring death glares into his skull.

"Hello, there," she intoned mechanically, as if she had rehearsed the lines multiple times in front of a mirror. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting."

"What is this wretched emotion I feel?" he demanded abruptly. "This internal fluttering, this lightheadedness... it must be the beginnings of a physical malady. I believe I must seek prompt medical attention."

A grey eye twitched despite itself. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" The League Champion muttered disbelievingly, deviating from her planned script. "I'm not quite sure how to respond to that."

"This is terrible," Saturn thought to himself. Meanwhile, his fellow comrades were cracking up, clutching at each other and totally ruining Cyrus's line of thought.

You-you mean she's hot, don't you? Jupiter managed through bouts of laughter. Then just tell her so!

"You misunderstand. Her body temperature is not abnormal in the slightest, and I do not believe she has the signs of a fever," came the man's response, immediately prompting the woman before him to raise an eyebrow. "I am merely suffering from slight disorientation, though it's hardly enough to dissuade me at this point."

"Stop talking to yourself," she sighed, just as renewed peals of laughter shot through Cyrus's ear. "Either way, I can see that you're not too enthusiastic about tonight. Good, then. The feeling's mutual."

You're losing her, boss, Saturn intoned dramatically, trying to hide the annoyance in his voice. Just- just compliment her. No need for... fancy symbolism or anything. Tell her that she looks beautiful. Okay? That's enough.

The man relented. "You look beautiful," he spat, as if the words were a plague he desperately needed to rid himself of.

"Flattery will get you nowhere. I'd rather hear you shout profanities, Cyrus, than have you try to buy some more sympathy from me. How about this? For the remainder of tonight, we'll just insult each other in lieu of lovelorn confessions and the like. Alright? That would make this ordeal a lot less painful."

He looked at her pointedly. "If this is so unbearable to you, why did you accept my offer?"

Because I want to turn you in, Cyrus. And also: "Because I sympathize with your overworked underlings. If this is as painful for you as it is for me, then I'm glad they're able to take revenge." Her eyes gleamed. "Besides, I knew you were hoping I'd refuse your offer. I took some pleasure out of crushing your desires."

I think I like this Cynthia chick, Mars mused to herself. You should ask her to join TG, sir. Employee happiness would soar.

Cyrus said nothing, instead directing a steely glare at Cynthia. She smiled mockingly back at him, a mute, saccharine blow to his dignity.

xxx

Cyrus had begrudgingly made a dinner reservation at the Seven Stars Cafe, a prestigious restaurant that overlooked Lake Valor. Well, Lake Valor was nothing more than a blown-up mess thanks to him, but one good thing came out of the explosion- all the vacationers had fled the lakeside, leaving the restauarant blessedly empty. Only a trembling waiter and the head chef remained, still shaken from the prior week's events but with enough presence of mind to keep the cafe open for travelers. Cyrus's three commanders were also lurking around discreetly, waiting to take a peek at the awkward dinner.

Unfortunately, the man had no idea how to get to the restaurant. Well, he did in a navigational sense, but...

"You have no way of leaving this place," Cynthia clarified, shooting a withering glare at him. "Although you've come all this way to the Pokemon League, you have no idea how to depart. No way of flying us out of here. I should have expected this from you, in all honesty."

His fingers tightened around Crobat's Poke Ball. "My Crobat could carry us there," he retorted. "One of us, rather..."

"One of us," she repeated after him, eyes wrought with exasperation. "And no, I won't teach my Togekiss 'Fly' for the sake of a forced date. You tell me, then. What do we do?"

"Perhaps we might dine here, at the League," he suggested without thinking. "I suppose it would be an acceptable substitute."

"Of course," she muttered derisively, a cold smile on her face. "And who do you suppose might cook for us? Flint? I hear he makes exceptional instant noodles."

"Do you not have a cafeteria, or a similar means of obtaining food?"

"Yes, though what they serve is considerably lacking in taste." She sighed ruefully, casting her gaze up to the darkening skies. "Whatever works for you, alright? Let's just get this over with."

Without further comment, he followed her into the building. Both were trying very, very hard not to give into their suicidal impulses.

Aww, Cy-rus! Mars whined as her boss stepped inside the League Building, her voice a high-pitched wail in his ear. You're not going to the Seven Stars? All three of us are waiting here and we won't even get to see anything!

"Perhaps it's for the best," he muttered. Preoccupied, he failed to notice that three young men were currently watching his every move.

They were sitting in the security camera room, which had been darkened for special effect. Lucian was silently observing the unfolding scene, while Aaron caught a glimpse of Cynthia's pained expression and had to fight back waves of remorse. Meanwhile, Flint was too busy gaping at the League Champion to worry about the matter at hand. Okay, so Cynthia wasn't exactly his type, but she did look fine tonight.

His finger hovered over the Save Footage button on the security camera panel, but decided against it and fixated his attention on the screen instead.

"They're going to have dinner in the building? Wow, Cyrus is cheap," he snickered to his teammates, who grinned their agreement. "But it does make our lives a whole lot easier."

The three nodded to each other, and Lucian wordlessly flipped a switch on the panel before him. The screen flickered, and changed to display security camera footage of the cafeteria.

"You're lucky the place is empty," the League Champion snapped, though she knew full well that it wasn't. "The cafeteria closes early on weekends, so we have to cook dinner ourselves."

You do know how to cook, right? Jupiter ventured, though she already knew the answer. Uh, sir? Do you?

"I assume you're fine with preparing a meal," Cynthia continued, her cold grey eyes fixed on him. "Unless chivalry is indeed dead and you expect me to make food for us both."

"I'm quite skilled in the culinary arts," came the unwavering lie. Though he had no idea how to cook, he also had no desire whatsoever to incur more anger from Cynthia. "If given the necessary equipment, I should be able to prepare a meal."

Are you crazy? Came Saturn's instantaneous shriek. If she doesn't arrest you for everything else you've done, she'll sue you for attempted murder!

Cyrus gritted his teeth, ignoring the statement. Cynthia raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk on her face.

"Well, then," she replied sarcastically, demurely seating herself at a nearby table. "The kitchen's at the very back of the cafeteria, to your right. I trust you'll know what to do when you arrive."

xxx

Five minutes later, Cyrus emerged from the kitchen carrying two steaming bowls of instant noodles. If there were ever a moment to immortalize, this would be it.

"The dude went through my stash!" Flint yelped without thinking, eliciting raised eyebrows from his comrades. "He's going to BURN for this!"

"Calm down," Aaron muttered, zooming the camera in on Cynthia's table. "I want to see her reaction."

Sure enough, the League Champion's response was definitely one to watch. If she had any expectations of the man whatsoever, they were promptly crushed in the seconds he walked up to her table, nonchantly bearing two very, very cheap dinner entrees. Just as Cyrus had run out of words earlier that evening, Cynthia found herself running out of insults. There were just too little in the world to illustrate the situation.

She could only manage a faint "Looks lovely" as her date set the bowls on the tabletop, trying hard not to break down in the process. Still, a part of her had seen this coming. The guy had no affection for her whatsoever, and she figured that if you were forced on a date with the woman you least loved in the world, you might as well try to make her as miserable as possible. If that was Cyrus's initiative, then he was succeeding, much to her dismay.

"So," she muttered dully, absentmindedly stirring the soup with her pair of chopsticks. The mixture had an odd coloration, and she shuddered, wondering how it was possible to cook instant noodles incorrectly. "This is probably the part of the date where we tell each other about ourselves, correct?"

"You seem to have much more knowledge regarding these matters," came the ambiguous response. "Do enlighten me."

She scoffed, poking at the tangled mess at the bottom of the bowl. The noodles, perhaps? The thought made her appetite drain away, and she glanced up, noticing that Cyrus hadn't touched his bowl either. Well, that was one thing they shared: common sense.

"I'll start, then," she remarked, boredom tingeing her voice. "Hello. I'm Cynthia, of Celestic. I like numerous things, all of which do not have to do with forced dating, instant noodles, and you. I enjoy Pokemon battling and playing the piano, tasks that I can probably do ten times better than the average criminal. However, I don't enjoy having a conversation with a person I'd normally avoid in public."

"You were born in Celestic?" The word was spoken with contempt. "One would expect the Champion to come from a much more upstanding background."

"And one would expect Team Galactic's mastermind to come from the depths of hell," she retaliated coldly. The two glared at each other for a split-second, then immediately averted their gazes.

That was pretty cold, Saturn mumbled, taking advantage of the silence. Uh, why don't you find some common ground? Something you're both interested in?

"Are you, by any chance, interested in probabilistic algorithms or imperative programming?" Cyrus proposed without thinking.

"As interested as I am in you."

"Just as I expected." He thought for a moment. "However, I suppose you'd find some enjoyment in Pokemon mythology, seeing as Celestic is your hometown."

At this, Cynthia raised her head, her attention definitely caught. "You- you study mythology?"

You've got her with that one, Mars cheered, her faith in her boss considerably renewed. Just keep talking about that subject, alright? This is good.

"Yes, I do have substantial knowledge regarding Sinnoh's legends. Such studies are instrumental to my plans."

Plans? Cynthia disregarded this statement for a moment, though, too engrossed in the conversation to notice. "So you've heard of the Creation Myth, then? Dialga, Palkia, Arceus? Everything?"

"Correct. I take it that you, too, have considered such legends a passion of yours."

"That's right. Interesting. I had never expected someone like you to share an interest in folklore." Her eyes took on a new gleam, one that frightened the heck out of Lucian, Flint, and Aaron. "You know Mesprit, Uxie, and Azelf, right? What they stand for, and how they keep balance in Sinnoh?"

"Quite right. Just recently, I managed to capture all three beings- I mean to say, capture their attention- for my studies."

Don't forget, you're still a criminal, Jupiter warned. That one slip-up could majorly cost you, boss.

But if Cynthia noticed the slight error, she didn't show her disapproval. As a matter of fact, she concealed it so well that Cyrus believed she hadn't heard his mistake at all. The League Champion hated herself for it, but she was actually starting to feel a bit more comfortable around the guy. There were so few people in the world that were interested in legends, and to have a well-read man sitting right in front of her...

However, this was not part of the master plan.

"I still hate you, you know," she offered then, once again stirring the soup growing cold before her. "Say what you will, but a shared interest in mythology won't be enough to sway me."

At this, Lucian, Flint, and Aaron breathed sighs of relief. Their boss had not lapsed into momentary insanity, and Cyrus was still the antisocial freak she hated. Still, however, there was something about the date that had them rooting for the man. Maybe it was their own failed luck with the ladies that kept them unconsciously sympathizing with Cyrus.

Either way, the hour was flying by. Another few minutes, and the date would end for good. The police would arrive, and with no backup to support him, Cyrus would be imprisoned. The three gave each other high-fives, all the while wishing the ordeal would last a little longer.

After all, they had to get back at their boss, too. Team Galactic's underlings weren't the one ones being overworked, right?

Author's Note: I like this chapter a lot better than the previous one? Why? Because banter, witty or not, is SO MUCH FUN to write. Haha, thanks for reading.