Gary came back from the kitchen approximately four minutes later.
He had a rice cracker and the expression of someone who had used four minutes to recalibrate.
He leaned in the doorway, looked at Ash — still sitting on the floor with Y on his shoulder and X asleep in his lap — and said, with renewed confidence:
"So. Two Charmanders."
"We covered this," Ash said.
"Where'd the second one come from?"
"An egg. Grandpa had it."
Gary looked at Oak. "You had an egg for him and didn't tell me?"
"It was a gift from his father," Oak said mildly. "And you have Eevee."
"Eevee was—"
"A gift. Yes. We covered that too."
Gary ate his rice cracker. Stared at the two Charmanders. Stared at Ash with the calculating look of someone running numbers on a rivalry and finding them inconvenient.
"I have a Squirtle," he said. Conversational. Almost casual. "Caught it myself. Three months ago."
Ash looked up.
'Gary caught his own Squirtle,' he thought. 'Right. This timeline moves differently.'
"Good for you," Ash said.
"It knows Water Gun, Tackle, Withdraw, and Rapid Spin."
"That's four moves."
"TMs," Gary said, with the specific satisfaction of someone who knows they're about to land something. "Gramps let me use a few. So don't think those two little lizards give you any advantage."
X chose this moment to sneeze in its sleep.
Gary stared at it.
"That one's a newborn," he said.
"Yes."
"You brought a newborn to a—" He stopped. Looked more carefully. "You weren't planning to battle. You came here to get a Pokémon."
"Correct."
"And now you have two and you're sitting on my grandfather's floor."
"Also correct."
Gary looked at Y on Ash's shoulder. Y looked back at Gary with the steady, evaluating attention of a Pokémon that has been alive for two years and has opinions.
Something moved across Gary's face. The recalibration again — that fractional shift Ash had seen earlier, the one Gary kept snapping back from before it could settle into anything.
"Must be nice," Gary said, not quite managing the sarcasm he was going for. "Getting handed two Pokémon because you're—" He stopped.
"Because I'm what?" Ash said.
Gary's jaw tightened. His gaze flicked to Daisy — who was tidying the lab counter with pointed efficiency and not looking at either of them — then back to Ash.
"Because you're family apparently," he said. The word had a particular flavour in his mouth. Like something he hadn't decided whether to spit out or swallow.
"Gary," Daisy said, without turning around.
"I'm not saying anything."
"You were about to."
"I wasn't."
"Your face was."
Gary closed his mouth.
A silence.
Then May, who had been watching all of this from her chair with the focused enjoyment of someone at a very good sporting event, said:
"He's your brother-in-law, you know."
Gary turned to look at her. "Excuse me?"
"Brother-in-law." She gestured between Gary and Ash with two fingers. "Daisy's your sister. Daisy's one of Ash's fiancées. Therefore—"
"Don't," Gary said.
"—brother-in-law."
"I said don't."
"Technically it makes Ash your Big Bro," May added, with the specific gleeful energy of someone pouring oil on a fire they started on purpose.
Gary's expression did something complicated.
"Like hell," he said, very precisely, "I'm calling him Big Bro."
"Gary," Daisy said.
"No. Absolutely not. That's not — he's not — we're not—" He pointed at Ash with the energy of someone who needs a target. "You just got two Charmanders today. You have no right to that title."
Ash tilted his head.
He knew, intellectually, that the mature response was to let this go. To be calm. To demonstrate the decade of experience he had on Gary by not rising to it.
He also knew Gary. Had known Gary since before either of them could read. And there was a very specific, very small, very irresistible part of him that had spent years being called Ashy-boy and was now in a position to do something about it.
"If it bothers you that much," Ash said, pleasantly, "we could settle it."
Gary blinked. "Settle it how."
"Battle."
A silence.
Oak looked up from his papers with the expression of a man whose afternoon just became significantly more interesting.
"If I win," Ash continued, "you call me Big Bro. Once. That's all I'm asking."
"And if I win?" Gary said, jaw tight.
The pause stretched.
"You can name the condition," Ash said.
Gary stared at him.
The calculation ran fast and obvious across his face — two Charmanders, one of them a newborn, against a Squirtle he'd spent three months training with TMs. A new trainer who got his Pokémon an hour ago against someone who'd been working with his for a season.
He smiled. It was his real smile — sharp and competitive and entirely certain of itself.
"Fine," he said. "But my condition is you break off the engagement with Daisy."
The lab went quiet.
May's eyes went wide.
Daisy's hand stopped moving on the counter.
Ash looked at Gary.
Gary looked at Ash.
'He's serious,' Ash thought. 'He actually thinks he can win.'
He thought about what Gary knew versus what he knew. A Squirtle with TM moves versus a Charmander that had been waiting two years to fight. And behind Ash's eyes, quietly, ten years of experience that Gary couldn't see and had no way to account for.
"Alright," Ash said.
"Alright?" Daisy said sharply.
"I'm not going to lose," Ash said, without looking at her. He was still looking at Gary. "Grandpa, can we use the ranch?"
"The back field," Oak said, already standing. "I don't want you two in the lab."
⁕ ⁕ ⁕
The ranch behind Oak's lab was wide and green and warm in the afternoon light.
They lined up on opposite sides with the easy instinct of two people who had been finding ways to compete with each other since childhood and knew the shape of it without needing to discuss it.
Squirtle stood beside Gary — compact, confident, shell gleaming, watching Y across the field with the cautious attention of a Pokémon that had been trained for this.
Y stood beside Ash — tail flame steady, eyes forward, the posture of something that had been waiting.
X was in Ash's arms, still drowsy, tail flame a low comfortable flicker.
When X had realised it wasn't being sent out, it had protested. Vigorously. Small indignant sounds and increasingly emphatic tiny hands.
"You hatched two hours ago," Ash had said.
"Char!" X had replied, pointing at Squirtle.
"You're not fighting a Squirtle on your first day."
"Char."
"Next time."
X had accepted this with the furious dignity of someone who has lost the argument and would like everyone to know they disagree.
It was currently watching from Ash's arms with intense, focused resentment aimed at no one in particular.
The spectators had arranged themselves along the fence. Oak with his hands behind his back, already taking mental notes. May on the top rail, feet dangling. Daisy beside her, arms crossed, too tense to sit.
And Green.
Ash hadn't seen her arrive. But she was there — leaning against the fence post nearest the gate, hat pushed back, eyes moving between Ash and Gary with the particular expression of someone who has been briefed very quickly on a situation and found it immediately amusing.
She caught his eye. Gave him a small nod.
He gave her one back.
"Hey, Gary!" Green called across the field.
Gary, who had been in quiet conference with his Squirtle, looked up.
"If Ash wins," Green said pleasantly, "you have to call me Big Sis too."
Gary's expression collapsed. "What—"
"Me too!" May said, raising her hand. "Big Sis May. I think it has a nice ring to it."
"This isn't—" Gary turned back to Ash with visible desperation. "Can you control your—"
"They make their own decisions," Ash said.
Gary looked at the fence — at Green smirking, May delighted, Daisy pressing her lips together to contain something — and let out a breath through his nose.
"Fine," he said. "Are we battling or are we going to stand here collecting conditions all afternoon?"
"We're battling," Ash said.
He looked down at Y.
"Daisy says he used TMs," he said quietly. "So expect surprises. Read it first. Don't overcommit."
Y's tail flame rose slightly. The posture of something that understood.
"Alright," Ash said. "Let's go."
Across the field, Gary pointed forward.
"Squirtle — show them what real training looks like."
Squirtle stepped onto the field with the settled confidence of three months of work behind it.
Y stepped forward to meet it.
The afternoon was warm. The grass was long. X watched from Ash's arms with burning, indignant attention.
Ash looked at the Squirtle. Looked at the careful stance. Looked at Gary's expression — certain, competitive, entirely underestimating what was standing across from him.
'I've battled legendary Pokémon,' he thought. 'I've stood in front of things that could unmake reality.'
'I can beat Gary Oak's Squirtle.'
He almost felt bad about it.
Almost.
"Y," he said. "Ember. Wide spread — make it move."
The battle began.