1.Ash's Story (Part 2: Johto)

Chapter 89: The Broken Poké Ball Battle

The next matchup board turned the entire Athlete's Village into a storm of voices.

Trainers crowded around every monitor, some cheering, some groaning, and some staring so quietly that their silence felt louder than shouting. After the group stage, the Silver Conference had shifted again. The field had narrowed, and every name on the board now stood between someone and the championship dream.

Reisa waved from near the largest screen. "Hey, Ash, the matchups are here already!"

I hurried over with Lillie, Ethan, Kris, and East beside me. Pikachu balanced on my shoulder, and Togetic floated near Lillie with her hands clasped nervously. I spotted Silver first, then Ethan's name, then Harrison's. Each one had advanced into the next round, which made the tournament feel even tighter.

Then I found my own matchup.

My breath caught before I could say anything.

"It's Gary," I said, staring at the screen.

Gary's voice answered from behind me. "Lucky you, Ashy Boy. Your Silver Conference experience is going to be a short one, but at least it will be fun."

I turned sharply, already feeling the old spark between us flare again. "Not so fast, Gary. There is no way I am losing to you."

Lillie sighed beside me. "There they go again already."

Gary reached into his pocket and pulled out something small enough to fit in his palm. The moment I saw the broken curve of red and white, my chest tightened. It was half of an old Poké Ball, rusted and cracked from a childhood argument that had somehow followed us all the way here.

Gary held it up with a smirk. "Hey, Ash, remember this?"

Seeing Gary's name beside mine pulled years of memories together at once: Pallet Town arguments, races neither of us wanted to lose, and battles that had ended before either of us understood what rivalry was supposed to teach. Pikachu felt my shoulder tense and pressed closer without taking his eyes from Gary. Around us, the others kept discussing brackets and possible opponents, but their voices blurred. This match was not only another step through the Silver Conference. It was the battle Gary and I had been carrying since we were children, even when neither of us admitted it.

"Of course I remember that," I said, reaching instinctively toward my bag. "It is the Poké Ball from when you and I tied."

Kris blinked in confusion. "He kept half of a Poké Ball from a tie?"

Gary's eyes narrowed with old stubbornness. "Wrong. I considered that one a loss."

That line hit harder than it should have, because I remembered exactly how angry he had been back then. I remembered fishing by the stream, the Magikarp that slapped me in the face, Gary laughing because I could not name the attack properly, and the two of us pulling opposite ends of the same rusty Poké Ball until it snapped between us.

Gary lowered the broken half. "Talking to you was already a loss back then. This battle is six on six, Ash, and that means one thing. You will be toast."

"I would not be so sure about that one," I shot back, stepping closer.

Gary turned away with the half Poké Ball still in his hand. "See you on the battlefield."

He walked off before I could say anything else, leaving the old argument sitting between us like a challenge nobody else could fully understand.

That night, I took my own half of the Poké Ball from my backpack.

The metal was scratched and dull, but I had kept it anyway. I had always called it a good luck charm because that sounded better than admitting I kept proof of a fight that still bothered me. Gary had called the tie a loss. I had called it a draw. Neither of us had ever called it finished.