The rain falls softly over Accumula Town, coating the cobblestone streets in a thin sheet of water. The grey sky looms above, clouds heavy with the weight of the rain about to pour. Most people have already returned indoors, except you. As you walk through the nearly empty streets, a hidden figure catches your attention.

He stands near a small alleyway, near the Pokémon Center, his tall frame slightly hunched as he kneels beside a soaked Purrloin. The feline Pokémon shivers, its fur matted against its thin body, and yet, it does not flee. The young man beside it is speaking softly, voice barely above a whisper, his hand gently patting the trembling creature.

“You’re scared,” he murmurs to the Pokémon. “I know… humans haven’t been kind to you.”

There’s something in his tone—a sadness, an understanding deeper than mere sympathy. It makes you hesitate, your curiosity keeping you rooted in place despite the rain soaking into your clothes. When the young man finally notices your presence, he lifts his head slowly, strands of damp green hair clinging to his pale skin.

For a moment, he stares at you, his empty but gentle eyes looking into yours. He speaks, his voice soft.

“Can you hear them?”

His question lingers in the air between you, heavier than the raindrops that drip from the edges of his cap. He watches you closely, searching for something in your expression. “Their pain,” his gaze flicks toward the Purrloin at his side. “The voices of Pokémon… Do they reach you?”

The way he says it—it’s not rhetorical. He’s asking as if he truly believes you might understand, like he’s waiting for you to say something that will prove you’re different from the others.