Notes – For a prompt-fest that I recently posted. Moonstar102 wanted Phoenix and Ryo under the prompt of "drinking". Set a short while pre-AJ and probably post-GX.
Once he'd been working at the Borscht Bowl Club long enough Phoenix could recognise a challenger from a mile away.
They never looked like everyday people; they were always dressed in such outlandish clothes. A lot like the sort of strange individuals he might have run into while investigating a murder a long time ago. In his other life maybe they would have been those people, but here and now he was nothing but a poker player and they were only here to challenge his undefeated title.
Tonight's boy was no exception. He was dressed in more black leather than Phoenix had ever seen on one person and his jacket stood out enough to make him look intimidating to any predators. But not to Phoenix, who just thought it looked somewhat amusing.
Oh, and he had blue hair too. That was probably worth noting.
"So I'm guessing you're not here for some Russian food," Phoenix started, taking a seat next to the boy.
He received a stare in return and Phoenix observed that he really was just a boy. At the most he could be in his early twenties, but he was definitely a lot younger than a lot of the other challengers you got here.
"It's not to my taste," the other replied, "And neither was your piano playing."
"That'd almost hurt if I hadn't heard it so many times before," laughed Phoenix, "But if you're here to challenge my title like I think you are, then I'd like to know your name."
"Hell Kaiser," growled the boy.
"That's… an unusual title," said Phoenix, but he doubted someone who was willing to call themselves something like that would ever give him their real name, "Let's cut to the chase then – we don't play for money or anything like that here, but if you beat me I guess I'll buy you a drink and you can be known as the man who defeated the undefeated champion."
"I don't care for drinking, I just want a chance to play against you," Hell Kaiser replied.
"Don't care for drinking? That's almost blasphemy! Well the stakes have changed now then – if I beat you then you have to down a bottle of our finest grape juice," Phoenix teased.
"Very well," answered Hell Kaiser, dismissively.
He underestimated Phoenix. They always did.
By the end of the evening Phoenix had of course won, as he did every time, leaving 'Hell Kaiser' without a leg to stand on as far as the cards went. Something didn't feel right though. There were good losers and bad losers, some people were fine with it and other people would go into a fit of rage. However this guy… he seemed almost scared of losing. Like he felt someone was hanging over his shoulder, laughing at him. It made Phoenix feel a bit bad for the kid.
"Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of. No one outside of this room will ever even know you lost," Phoenix told him. Though that was technically a lie since his employers would know that he always won as long as they were paying him. It wasn't as if they really cared who he was defeating though.
"What makes an unbeatable champion unbeatable?" Hell Kaiser muttered, half in a daze.
"Oh. Um, I don't know really. I guess I'm just good at this," Phoenix replied with a shrug.
"Yes, he would have said the same," Hell Kaiser agreed, without elaborating on who 'he' was. Undoubtedly someone else who was known for being quite good at card games.
"Maybe you're worrying too much. But I know what would put a stop to that - the drink you promised," Phoenix said.
"I'll buy you a drink then," Hell Kaiser dismissed.
"That wasn't the deal. The deal was that you'd have the drink if you lost," reminded Phoenix.
"I'm not all that great with drinking," warned Hell Kaiser.
"Then you're in luck, because I'm an expert!" Phoenix said, cheerfully patting him on the back, "Now let's go before closing time draws near."
Reluctantly, the boy known as Hell Kaiser agreed and allowed himself to be dragged back up to the bar. He wasn't lying either, he did handle his drinks quite badly, but he was a lot more entertaining and less gloomy to hang around with once he'd had a few.
True to his word, Phoenix looked after him very well. And by the time the evening was over he'd slipped a number into one of Hell Kaiser's pockets. His work number, of course. He was classier than that. Along with it were just the words –
'Call me if you ever want a rematch.'