Pokémon: Ascension Trainer System Chapter 5: The Bond Between Rivals!

"Apologize? For what?" Gary tilted his chin up arrogantly, pretending not to understand.

"Oh, you're really gonna play dumb now?" Ash smirked, folding his arms.

"Gary, it's only been two days, and you already forgot that you pushed into the river?"

Gary stiffened, his face twitching slightly. "B-but Mrs. Ketchum said you wouldn't be mad at …" he mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" Ash leaned in with a grin, pretending not to hear.

"N-nothing! Look, fine, I admit it was my fault I pushed you in—but only because you tried to steal the Poké Ball I caught!" Gary shot back quickly, eyes darting away.

"Huh? What are you talking about? That Poké Ball was sothing we both reeled in!" Ash retorted, rolling his eyes. Thanks to the mories of this body, he knew exactly what had happened that day—and Gary's version wasn't even close.

Gary crossed his arms, thinking fast. "Anyway! I already made up for it, see? I split that Poké Ball into two halves. I'm keeping one, and I'm giving you the other half as an apology! Pretty generous, right?"

"Wow, Gary, you really have a talent for rewriting history," Ash sighed. "We both found that Poké Ball, rember? You don't get to act like you're being charitable."

Maybe it was the fusion of mories or maybe it was the world rubbing off on him, but the once-grown man inside this six-year-old body was starting to sound more and more like the real Ash.

After all, ntal math said it best: 22 years old 6 years old = 28.

28 divided by 2 = 14.

He might have an adult's soul, but half of him was already syncing with the kid he had beco. His maturity had llowed into sothing between a big brother and a spirited young Trainer.

Gary, anwhile, was doing his best to act casual. "Ah, whatever! Let's just say we caught it together. Look—I brought both halves with today. Which one do you want?"

He placed the two small gift boxes on the desk and flipped one open.

"I'll take that red half," Ash said, pointing at it.

It was a classic Poké Ball—red and white, scratched and worn. The cheapest kind on the market, probably discarded by so Trainer after a failed Water-type capture. To anyone else, it was trash. But to two six-year-olds dreaming of their first Pokémon, it was a treasure.

"Fine, that half's yours. I'll take the bottom half," Gary said, handing it over.

Ash accepted it automatically—but then paused, staring down at it.

Wait a second. What am I doing? he thought, the corners of his mouth twitching. I'm a twenty-two-year-old man… arguing over half of a broken Poké Ball with a kid.

The sha hit him like a Hydro Pump.

He sighed internally. And why the heck am I so happy about it?!

Before he could decide whether to return it, Gary carefully picked up the second gift box from the desk. But just as he was about to open it, he stopped.

His expression changed—awkward at first, then serious.

"Hey… Ash," Gary said quietly. "I… I'm really sorry."

Ash blinked.

"I didn't an to push you that day. I just—got too competitive. I thought you'd hate after that, and I couldn't stop thinking about it." Gary's voice trembled, his knuckles tightening around the box.

Ash froze, caught off guard.

For a mont, he didn't know what to say. The older, rational part of him wanted to laugh it off—but the younger, emotional part in him understood the weight behind those words.

When he didn't answer imdiately, Gary's lower lip quivered. His eyes glistened with tears he was fighting to hold back.

"Guess I was right," Gary whispered. "You do hate ."

"Wait—no, no, that's not it!" Ash waved his hands, panicking as the boy's tears began to form. "Listen, I know you didn't an it, okay? I never blad you. Look at —I'm fine now, aren't I?"

Gary sniffed, peeking up at him uncertainly. "Really? You're not mad?"

Ash smiled awkwardly but warmly. "Really."

He was still technically a grown man inside, but the sincerity in Gary's face made him nod again and again.

"Then… we're still friends, right?" Gary asked softly. "You won't stop being my best friend?"

Ash's answer ca without hesitation. "Of course we're still friends. Always."

A bright, genuine smile spread across Gary's face. It was so pure and unguarded that it hit Ash right in the chest.

mories surfaced—tis when other kids had mocked Ash for not having a dad, and Gary had always been the first to jump to his defense.

Even if his words back then were hilariously tsundere—"Ash isn't a wild kid! He's just a loser! Only I get to call him a loser!"—the sentint behind them had always been real.

Ash chuckled quietly. For soone who had grown up without a single close friend in his previous life, the warmth of this bond was sothing entirely new.

Who would've thought his first true friend would be a six-year-old in a world full of Pokémon?

"Well," he thought with a grin, "guess a 'little friend' is still a friend."

Out loud, he asked curiously, "By the way, Gary, what's inside that other box you've been holding?"

Gary's eyes lit up again. "Oh! Right!"

He straightened up proudly, holding it out toward him. "That Poké Ball we fought over—that was sothing we both found, so we each get half."

"But this," he said, lifting the second box slightly, "this is different. After what happened, I felt awful. Grandpa and Mom told you were leaving the hospital today, so I picked sothing special for you. My official apology gift!"

He extended the box forward with both hands, his face filled with earnest anticipation.

"Ash," he said sincerely, "please open it."

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