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<Hup!... Hup!... Hup!!>

A small, high-pitched voice up ahead caught the woman’s attention. Distracted from her thoughts (almost gratefully so), she peered ahead into the night. It took her a second to spot an incredibly tiny, fluffy grey pokemon apparently trying to jump up onto a picnic table.

Tucking her hands into the pockets of her cardigan, she approached, tilting her head at the pokemon’s fervent attempts. Each jump was punctuated with another <Hup!> as her paws missed the ledge of the table. So invested was minccino in this endeavor that she didn’t notice Akane standing practically next to her.

The trainer looked around. There were a few lights on in some nearby homes, but no one seemed to be outside, and she hadn’t encountered anyone on the way here. It was just the two of them. If she didn’t stick around, it was likely that the pokemon would be left alone, trying to climb onto the table until morning.

“Do you need some help?” She asked. She meant well, but her tone was rather flat.

<No!> Cried the Minccino, without bothering to face the trainer. She jumped again, missing the edge of the table by a mere inch. <I made it onto the bench, I can get the rest of the way there!> She had to clean it herself. It was bothering her, the way it just sat there with dirt and grime- it made her stomach twist into knots. Didn’t anyone else notice how dirty it was? Didn’t it bother anyone else?

Akane blinked in reply. There was a lot of conviction in the pokemon’s voice that she hadn’t expected to hear. Casting one more glance down the road- no, there was no one there- she sat on the bench next to the Minccino, resting her elbow on the table and cupping her chin with her palm. She respected the pokemon’s right to say no, but at the same time, it didn’t feel right to leave her there all alone.

<Hup!... Hup!... Aha!> Her stubby paws finally caught the table, and with a bit more effort, she pulled herself onto the surface. Wasting no time, she darted over to a particularly grimy spot on the table and began scrubbing at it with her tail. The minccino was putting as much force as she could into cleaning the spot, but her feet and ankles were so sore and achy from all the jumping, and now her tail was starting to hurt too… And to make matters worse, it seemed for all endeavors, it wasn’t coming clean. Pressure built in her chest as her heart raced.

She spun back towards the trainer. <Quick! Give me something to clean this with!> It sounded halfway between a demand and a plea.

Akane blinked again, but she patted at the pockets of her cardigan, dress, and leggings. No napkins, no handkerchiefs, not even so much as a spare scrap of paper. She glanced back at the Minccino, who was watching her with wide brown eyes. And were those tears starting to gather…?

The woman shrugged her cardigan off, handing it to the chinchilla pokemon, who practically snatched it from her and began scrubbing away at the spot with the fabric. This time, her eyes lit up- it was working! The last table would be clean!

She beamed as she finished, admiring how the table was shining in the moonlight (as much as an old plastic picnic table could shine, at least). But it gave way to fear when she saw how dirty the cardigan now was, with the same grime that she had just managed to lift from the table. Still holding the fabric in her paws, she refused to meet Akane’s gaze. She’d ruined it, she’d never get the cardigan clean, and now this trainer was going to hate her for it, but she didn’t mean to, she’d only wanted alleviate the sick feeling in her stomach by cleaning the table...

It took Akane a second to figure out what had the tiny pokemon so upset, until she started feebly wiping at the pink cloth with her paws. “You know I can throw it into a washing machine. It’s okay. You don’t have to clean it.”

<Are you sure?> She squeaked, reluctant to give back the cardigan when it was still so dirty. <I didn’t mean to, I just… I wanted to make it go away...>

Akane hummed to herself as she thought. “If it bothers you that much, you can come along with me. I’ll show you.”

<Really?> A washing machine sounded intriguing, and now that the table was clean, she supposed she could go… Besides, the cardigan was her fault, and the thought that it would never come clean made her tremble.

Meanwhile, Akane pulled a pokeball out of her pocket and set it on the table. She was a little at a loss for what to do. Did she have to throw it at the minccino? That seemed like it would hurt the poor thing. Maybe she just had to press the button?