Gary Oak had seen Ash Ketchum walk into his clinic with all sorts of injuries—burns, scrapes, even the occasional dislocated joint. But when Ash strolled in that day, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a massive, ugly black eye darkening the left side of his face, Gary nearly lost it.

"ASHY-BOY, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE?!"

Ash winced at the sheer volume of his voice. "Ow, Gary, chill—"

Gary was already in front of him, cupping his chin and tilting his head up to get a better look. "No. No, I will not chill. Who did this? What happened? Did you pick a fight?!"

Ash huffed, trying (and failing) to pull away. "No! It was—uh—it was an accident."

Gary narrowed his eyes. "An accident."

"Yup."

"That conveniently ended with you looking like you went ten rounds with a Machamp?"

Ash groaned. "Gary—"

The receptionist, who had been watching from the front desk, peeked over. "Oh my god, Ash, who punched you?"

Ash groaned louder. "No one punched me!"

Gary wasn't convinced. His grip on Ash's chin softened, but his scowl deepened. "You better start explaining, buddy. Because if someone did this to you—"

Ash waved his hands. "No one did anything! I—I tripped, okay?"

Gary blinked. "...You tripped?"

Ash looked away. "Yeah."

Gary crossed his arms. "On what?"

Ash hesitated. "...A table."

Gary raised a brow. "A table?"

"Yes."

"So you tripped on a table."

"...Yes."

The receptionist muttered, "That's the worst excuse I've ever heard."

Ash groaned again, slumping his shoulders. "Fine! I may have gotten a little too into training with Pikachu, may have dodged the wrong way, may have ended up in a bad spot, and may have gotten zapped into a wall."

Gary stared.

The receptionist stared.

Ash crossed his arms, cheeks pink. "It happens, okay?"

Gary pinched the bridge of his nose. "You got kicked by your own Pikachu?"

Ash grumbled, "It wasn't like that—"

Gary sighed dramatically. "Arceus, you're hopeless."

Ash pouted. "Hey!"

Gary rolled his eyes, grabbing Ash's wrist and pulling him toward the exam room. "C'mon, idiot, let me at least check if anything's broken."

Ash huffed but didn't resist. Pikachu, who had been perched on Ash's shoulder looking very guilty, let out a small "Pika...."

Gary side-eyed the Pokémon. "And you need to be more careful, buddy."

Pikachu's ears drooped.

Ash patted his head. "It's okay, bud. Not your fault I have the dodging skills of a Slowpoke."

Gary snorted. "Wow. Self-awareness? That's new."

Ash scowled. "I take it back. I do hate you."

Gary just smirked, grabbing an ice pack and pressing it firmly against Ash's swollen eye.

"OW, GARY!"

"Yeah, yeah, hold still, Ashy-boy."

Ash grumbled under his breath.

Gary just smirked. "Next time, maybe don't pick a fight with your own Pikachu?"

Ash groaned. "It wasn't a fight!"

The receptionist called from outside, "Tell that to your face!"

Gary cackled.

The second Ash stepped into the clinic, Gary froze.

The usual teasing remark on his lips died when he got a good look at him.

A dark, swollen bruise covered Ash's left eye, a deep purple that stood stark against his skin. The swelling was bad—bad enough that Ash wasn't even opening that eye properly.

Pikachu sat stiffly on his shoulder, tail twitching, as if he were also ready to bolt at any second.

Gary's chair screeched against the floor as he immediately stood up. "What. The. Hell."

Ash winced. "Uh. Hey, Gary."

Gary stormed over. "What happened to you?!"

Ash flinched slightly at the loudness of his voice, but he recovered quickly, rubbing the back of his head. "It's, uh... nothing?"

Gary's eye twitched. "Oh, yeah. Sure. You just woke up and decided to punch yourself in the face?"

Ash let out a nervous chuckle. "I mean, maybe in my sleep?"

"Ash."

Ash groaned. "Fine, I—ow—" He cut himself off, wincing when the movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through his face.

Gary immediately cupped his chin, tilting his head gently to inspect the damage. "Hold still, Ashy-boy."

Ash pouted. "You still call me that even when I'm suffering?"

Gary rolled his eyes. "You being a disaster is exactly why I call you that."

Ash huffed.

Gary ignored him, pressing a little against the swelling. "Does this hurt?"

Ash visibly flinched. "Ow! Yes, it hurts, genius!"

Gary scowled—not at Ash, but at whoever had done this.

His mind was already racing through possibilities. A fall? No—if Ash had fallen, there'd be more scrapes. Maybe an accident while training?

...Or did someone hit him?

His grip on Ash's chin tightened slightly. "Ash."

Ash blinked up at him. "Uh, yeah?"

Gary's voice dropped, low and serious. "Who did this to you?"

Ash froze.

For a second, he just looked at Gary, and Gary saw it—hesitation, unease, a flicker of something like embarrassment.

That told him everything.

Gary fumed. "Ash."

Ash sighed, slumping his shoulders. "It's... not a big deal."

Gary's hands twitched. Not a big deal?!

"Ash Ketchum," he said, voice dangerously even, "you walked in here with a black eye, barely able to keep it open, and you think that's not a big deal?!"

Ash winced. "I mean... I've had worse?"

Gary groaned, rubbing his face. "That is not the flex you think it is."

The receptionist walked in then, took one look at Ash, and gasped. "ASH?! What happened?!"

Ash groaned. "Not you too..."

Gary turned to her, arms crossed. "He won't tell me."

The receptionist's face darkened. "Oh, that's not suspicious at all."

Ash crossed his arms, pouting. "You guys are overreacting."

Gary glared. "Overreacting? You hid under my desk because of a needle but think a black eye is fine?!"

Ash blinked. "That was different."

Gary narrowed his eyes. "How?"

"...It just is, okay?"

Gary pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. "Ash. I will find out who did this."

Ash waved him off. "It's not important—"

Gary grabbed an ice pack and shoved it onto Ash's face. "Shut up and hold this."

Ash yelped, gripping the ice pack in place. "Cold!"

Gary huffed, grabbing some disinfectant just in case. "Good. Maybe it'll freeze some sense into you."

The receptionist stood next to Gary, arms crossed. "So what's our game plan, Doc? Track down the culprit and introduce them to our fists?"

Gary smirked. "Oh, absolutely."

Ash groaned. "You guys..."

Gary ignored him, dabbing some antiseptic around the bruise. "Next time, at least try to dodge, yeah?"

Ash huffed. "I did!"

Gary snorted. "Clearly not well enough."

Ash grumbled something under his breath, but he let Gary work.

And while Gary was still fuming inside, he at least knew one thing:

Whoever dared to do this to Ash?

They would regret it.