DISCLAIMER: I don't own Pokémon.
This short piece was based on the Sapphire Dex entry for Wobbuffet: Wobbuffet does nothing but endure attacks - it won't attack on its own. However, it won't endure an attack on its tail. It's based on Guodon's drawing of Wobbuffet (search Guodon Wobbuffet and you'll find it):
Enjoy.
Wobbuffet does nothing but endure. And so, when his trainer doesn't show, Wobbuffet stays, faithfully holding his umbrella well into the afternoon.
Laughs resound. His crooked mouth and absurdly bulbous head no doubt make him quite the unintentional joke. Nobody quite crosses the line to touch him, to tease his black tail (they all remember what he did when that last happened), but nonetheless, the jeers exist on the fringes.
"So that's his Pokémon? Guess even he's got to have a single friend."
Wobbuffet's hearing is better than most, courtesy of his stillness, perhaps. So he hears this out of the uninspired mess of cruel comments being made and stores it away in his memory. Forgetting it might mean losing everything. It might mean losing nothing. Wobbuffet doesn't know, but the memory becomes as solid and real and important as the umbrella he's holding.
He endures, but he isn't stolidly loyal, of course; no good friend really is if they're honest. He agrees with the comments that the bright yellow is an unfitting color for a boy's parasol. Still, it is his master's umbrella, and for all that Wobbufet doesn't quite agree with the color, it's a minor quibble.
Few people remember that Wobbuffet is a Psychic Pokémon, but as the afternoon turns to evening, and the evening turns to night, he senses a shift in the school's atmosphere.
He's no Gardevoir, but when the entire school is empty save for a few sorry souls, he's able to pinpoint their emotions. Hot and heavy in the upstairs bathroom. Overtime boredom in the teacher's lounge. There are a few rats as well: nobody said that being an empath gave you the most interesting insights. And lastly his master, on the roof, indecisive, worried.
If one were observant, they'd see Wobbuffet's worried frown deepen a tad, and a small amount of strain present itself upon his countenance. One Joltik is observant, and sees all this, but Joltik are rather 'in-the-moment' creatures, so it rapidly goes back to looking for skin flakes in the students' shoes.
Finally, as the school bell tower strikes ten, his master comes down from the roof. Alive and via the stairs.
"It was you, wasn't it?"
Wobbuffet doesn't acknowledge. He only endures.
"It was YOU."
The Joltik scutters away, because anger is a sort of electricity too, and it knows when a storm is coming.
"You and your damn Shadow Tag! No escape, is it? No letting go? No EASY WAY OUT? Who asked you, damn it! Who asked you to stick your nose into my business, my life, my right to make choices! You're so damn possessive, and I don't even know it's you doing it until-"
The boy cuts off his rant to hyperventilate. Wobbuffet is a bit curious as to how his sentence will end, but it never does; the boy snatches the umbrella and stalks off into the rain.
Wobbuffet doesn't question, or accuse. He endures.
The footsteps stop, and for a second there is just the pitter patter of rain on the umbrella. It's all very melodramatic.
"Sorry."
It's barely audible, it's chipped like a failed sculpture, it's the result of all the hate the school has piled on him, and it still has the sharp bite of accusation.
Wobbufet doesn't comment.
"And thank you."
And then, Wobbufet turns. Pokémon and master, returning home after a long day at school.
His master can't tell, but when his lips curl into a slight smile, Wobbufet does notice.
"Fet."
Sometimes endurance pays off.
Jojiro's Note:
Of Wobbuffet's four moves, I imagine Safeguard is the only one which isn't a move; it's a lifestyle, and one which any trainer worth his or her salt appreciates.