1. Ash's Story (Part 9: Alola)

Chapter 44: Fire and Flowers

A few days after the forest meeting, the school courtyard changed into something halfway between a battlefield and a game hall. A long table stood under the morning sun, divided by a neat net.

Ilima stood beside the table with Smeargle at his side, calm enough that the entire setup seemed more elegant than strange. He had graduated from the Pokémon School years before, but he carried himself like someone who still respected every lesson the place had given him.

"Pokémon Ping-Pong is not only about speed," Ilima said. "It is about reading your partner, trusting their rhythm, and remembering that victory loses meaning if your partner feels unheard."

Smeargle tapped the paddle against Ilima's wrist with its tail brush, its meaning clear, "Trust the rhythm we built together."

Ilima smiled without surprise. "Exactly. Smeargle remembers the lesson better than I do sometimes."

Kiawe folded his arms with immediate seriousness. "So it is a battle of timing and spirit."

"And wrist control," Sophocles added, holding a paddle too tightly. "Apparently my wrist has betrayed me twice already."

Selene's Brionne balanced a small paddle with careful curiosity, while Rotom hovered near her tablet and recorded silently. Selene had kept Rotom close since the appliance chaos, and nobody joked about it. A support partner was still a partner, even when it did not count as a full team member.

Ilima demonstrated with Smeargle. The ball crossed the table in clean, graceful arcs, and Smeargle returned each shot with its tail as though painting invisible lines through the air. Every motion looked effortless, but I could feel the discipline underneath.

He asked us to try in pairs before the tournament. Pikachu and I handled the first rally with confidence that lasted exactly four returns. I leaned too far forward, Pikachu copied my impatience, and the ball bounced off the table edge before rolling under Kiawe's shoe.

Pikachu looked up at me and tapped the paddle against my shoe, its meaning clear, "Slow down, and I can follow you."

That made me laugh, even while my face warmed. "Right. That one was on me."

Ilima did not laugh at us. "Your partner followed your feeling before your command. That is useful, but only when the feeling is steady."

I slowed down. Pikachu shook his paws, glanced at me, and waited until I breathed properly. The next rally lasted longer, not because we hit harder, but because I stopped asking him to save my rushed timing. It was embarrassing and helpful at once.

Nate watched with sharp interest. "That is like a battle where the command is already understood before it is spoken."

"Exactly," Ilima said. "If I command too loudly, I only interrupt what Smeargle already knows."

He told us about the upcoming tournament and the rival waiting for him there. Ikari had won the previous year through overwhelming aggression, pushing his Mienshao beyond comfort until opponents collapsed under pressure. Ilima did not speak of him with hatred, only disappointment.

"He treats coordination like obedience," Ilima said. "That may win games for a while, but it cracks the bond beneath them."

The tournament proved his point before the final round even began. Ikari's team played hard, loud, and fast. Mienshao's strikes were precise, yet every miss brought a sharp word from Ikari. The more he scolded, the more Mienshao's movements tightened.

By the semifinals, the crowd had started cheering for Ilima's steadiness. Smeargle returned impossible shots with small adjustments, and Ilima praised the recovery instead of only the point. Even when they lost a rally, Smeargle's shoulders stayed loose because it knew the mistake would become information, not punishment.