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"Come on, Emolga," said Mark, "come on, girl.

"Emolga!" the shiny sprite Sky Squirrel cried.

"Look, I don't want to make this more harder than it has to be."

"Em!"

Mark grumbled, it was getting harder already. Plusle and Minun sat at the corner, just standing there doing nothing, as Emolga hid under the bed. Mark could see the glow of her white face in the shadows as she sat at the center, her doughy eyes glistened with fresh tears. Poor thing, even though Emolga loved Mark with all her heart and shown unquestionable loyalty, this was one thing she had to refuse. How could he blame her? Having her to put a special ointment on her sore that would sting more harsher than any bite or gunshot, what a bitter experience to go through.

It all started two weeks ago. Mark had taken a trip out in the woods, taking his Pokémon with him. It was outside of Faraday City, near an area that was once a forest reserve. However the reserve went on bad times and closed down, but it didn't stop people from coming in. Mark enjoyed this part of the island, mostly because it was close to home. If one were to go out here around mid-day, silence was the only noise that blares out here. Of course, there was the occasional bug-type Pokémon but they keep mostly to themselves. Thinking back at it, Mark found it how ironic it was. And hilarious too. Though there was nothing funny about a Pokémon getting humiliated by a small accident.

Emolga was sitting on Mark's shoulder as he carried Plusle and Minun in his arms, the Sky Squirrel Pokémon was noisy. Very noisy. She was filled with energy, hopping up and down on Mark's shoulder while singing a popular tune. It was like she was a mobile circus, entertaining anyone around her as well as herself. She could put a smile on your face by simply looking at you. She would love and hug you if you were nice. Emolga would absolutely give you small puppy kisses if you were to feed her, she was a little eating machine whose stomach was bigger than her brain. Mark calmed her down by giving her an ice cream sandwich. It worked, sort of. While she was occupied, a Butterfree was soaring above. Due to the design of its big beautiful wings, it was having a hard time flying straight. Though eventually Butterfrees would master flight, this one had trouble. Either it recently evolved or had ate something bad. Whatever the case, the end result wasn't pretty.

It came down, swooping erratically. Mark jumped, throwing out an arm to swat the Butterfree away. The Butterfree silently flew away without resentment, but the damage was done. He didn't realize that he accidentally knocked Emolga over, and when she fell, she landed on a thorn from a dead rose bush. Her screams broke the silence, deafening his ears. Mark quickly sat Plusle and Minun aside and went to Emolga's aid. The thorn had burrowed 3 centimeters into her left butt cheek, got in her good. Two arcs of tears flowed out of Emolga as she pleaded her trainer to take it out. Mark wasted no time, he grabbed the thorn branch and pulled it off. He went straight home and got the puncture wound treated.

The next day, Mark noticed the healing herb did no good. The small puncture, no bigger than a button, sprouted an infection. Mark took her to the Pokémon Doctor, Dr. Rosenberg studied the sore for a bit, then handed Mark a tube of ointment. The tube had a black cap and a silver finish, glittering under the florescent lights. There wasn't any print on the tube, not even under a magnifying glass.

"What is it?" Mark asked.

"A specialized antibiotic, you won't ever find these in stores. Put it on Emolga's sore at least one a day and keep it covered with a large bandage. Note that the stuff would sting harshly because of an acid in it, so you might wanna hold Emolga down when you give it to her. Would it be a problem with her?"

"She won't bite, nor would she shock me, Emolga doesn't have that kind of heart to lash out."

And Mark was right when he first applied the ointment on Emolga. Oh boy, did she scream. Mark had to muffle her scream for 5 minutes, until the sore got used to the ointment. The stuff was like a lemon to her, Mark wouldn't be surprised if it contained a high concentration of Vitamin C. Plusle and Minun almost cried, but they held in their tears. Emolga may be in pain, but she wasn't dying. Still, it was heartbreaking to watch.

"Emolga," said Mark, "I don't wanna do this either, but I don't want you getting a bad case of sepsis. Please come out."

"Em!" Emolga defiantly called out.

Mark shook his head and approach the bed, "Fine, you're going to make this difficult, I guess I'm going to step things up a notch."

He went up to the door and jammed a two by four under the knob, then closed the blinds. Plusle and Minun stepped back, they know when Mark said he was going to step up his game it always ended in his favor. He was the boss, when he said something must be done it will be done. For as long Emolga knew Mark, she had no idea how far he would go. In this case, he was willing to go really far.

Mark approached the bed again and pulled off all the covers. Whoa, it had been a while since he last changed the sheets. Hair follicles, cotton fuzz balls, and small dried blood spots stain the bed sheets. Signifying the bed was well used, Mark made a mental note to change the sheets and wash the comforter later, "Come on Emolga," he warned, "This is your last chance, come out."

This time she didn't say anything, like she was pretending she wasn't even there. Okay, Emolga wanted this to be difficult, Mark would make it difficult.

With little warning, Mark grabbed the bottom frame of the bed and flipped it. The mattress crashed into the back wall as the bed went 90 degrees, the frame clattered against the floor, flapping like a flag on a windy day as it leaned against the mattress. Emolga sprang out, making a mad dash for the closet, "Grab her!" Mark ordered.

Plusle and Minun didn't hesitate, they dived bombed Emolga and latched on her tail. She came to a sudden stop and flopped on the floor. The Sky Squirrel didn't fight back. She loved the girls so much that she didn't dare strike them. When Plusle and Minun moved up and grabbed her arms, Emolga didn't resist. Mark got down to his knees and pulled the tube of ointment from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, then pulled the big band-aid off Emolga's rear end. The sore was sickening to look at, it was covered in yellow-puss and oily scabs. The bandage did a good job of absorbing all thecrap, but can only absorb so much. The gauze patch was overwhelmed, it needed to be replace. More importantly, the ointment wouldn't be as effective if the scab was this dirty.

Mark sighed, looked like he had to clean the sore again.

"To the bathroom." he says as he screwed the cap back on.

Mark scooped Emolga up with an arm, her butt facing forward. The shiny sprite whimpered depressing sobs. As Mark head to the bathroom, Plusle and Minun followed but gave them space. They didn't wanna get anywhere close when Emolga start letting out tantrums. Mark walked into the bathroom and flipped the light on, he ran the sink till the water warmed up then filled it halfway. Mark dumped a dash of rubbing alcohol and hand soap into the water, then mixed it with a hand. Plusle rushed up and handed Mark a face towel, then scuttled back to Minun out in the hall.

"Oh this is my fault," Mark said in a childish depressing tone, "I'm sowey, Emolga. I'm sowey this happened to you."

Emolga just kept sobbing under her breath, too distraught to pay attention. Mark soaked the face towel in the home-made solution and swabbed the sore. Emolga let out a sharp yelp, then went silent. After a few seconds, she resumed her muted crying.

It was like wiping away mud, all the puss and crust were wiped away in a single sweep. Mark dabbed the towel back in the water, turning it sickly pink. He wiped again, getting more thoroughly this time, even wiped most of her butt. After 5 minutes of cleaning, Mark checked again his work. The sore was more red now, quite clean . . . oh, he didn't realize there wasn't much hair left on it. The sore was all bare. Mark cringed, he couldn't believe he done this to Emolga.

He checked if Emolga was paying attention. Her eyes were closed, trying to contain her tears. As Mark swabbed her swore, he silently unscrewed the cap of the ointment with his thumb. He deposit a small dab of the translucent pace on the towel, then scoot the ointment back on the counter. Mark doesn't warn her when she gives her the medicine. He knew what it would do, Emolga would unconsciously associate his voice with the pain. Psychology class told him that, if Emolga does, she would think of pain every time Mark speaks to her. So he said nothing when he pressed the ointment sample into her sore.

And boy Emolga screamed, not as bad as the first time but loud nonetheless. Plusle and Minun were so terrified, they ran. The small bathroom amplified Emolga's screams as Mark continued to press it in. Mark clenched his teeth, keeping his cool as he get the acidic ointment evenly coated around the sore. He then grabbed the band-aid box from the medicine cabinet and unwrapped a big band-aid, then stuck it over the sore.

Emolga screams turned to crying as Mark put the ointment back in the medicine cabinet, then left the bathroom. He still said nothing as he walked downstairs to the living room. Mark whistled through his teeth, Plusle and Minun came at once, running down the stairs and skidding to a stop before their trainer's feet, "Keep Emolga company," he ordered, "I'm going to go fix the bed."

. . .

Mark sat the bed upright again and pulled off all the bedsheets and pillow cases. He went downstairs and crammed it all into the washer, added in the detergent and softener before saturating it with a pour of bleach. He set the washing machine to run a full hour, then head back upstairs and fished out a new bed sheet set from the closet. They were white and fresh, recently bought from the store. Mark ripped them out of the package, then covered the mattress and stuffed the pillows into the new cases.

He took the comforters downstairs and dumped them next to the washing machine, he would wash those later. For now, Emolga was his greatest worry.

I can't believe I did this to my own Pokémon. He thought shamefully.

Emolga sat between Plusle and Minun as the two hugged her, he held her head low and sobbed tears onto the couch cushions. Drop after drop fell, it was getting bad. Mark had to intervene. He sat down on the couch next to his Pokémon, Emolga pushed Minun away and crawled up on his lap. She pressed her head against his chest and hugged him tight. Mark wrapped his arms around her back and stroke her head, "Shh shh," he said, "There, there."

Mark had Emolga for a long time, ever since he was 8. He remembered when his Dad took him to the Faraday City Pokémon Laboratory to choose a Pokémon. Though too young to get a Pokémon training license, Faraday Island doesn't enforce the rule or anything. That same rule enabled famous residence to become one of the greatest Pokémon trainers in the world. But that was back then, things were now a little strict in modern times but it doesn't mean nobody couldn't get a Pokémon. Mark wanted a pet Pokémon, a Pokémon who was sweet and fury. Never get's angry and always forgiving. That was a kind of Pokémon he always wanted, though it comes with a cost.

As he walked down the rows, looking at all the Pokémon with the other kids. He was disappointed. Yes, every Pokémon in the lab was an electric-type. It was Faraday City's reputation, so it was critical to only give out electric-type starter Pokémon. Mark went over his choices, the quadruped, the bi-petal, fury, machine, weird eye. All the Pokémon on display failed their first impressions, so Mark went over a 2nd time, then a 3rd. These small Pokémon are loving, but Mark can see through them. He saw some hatred in a few, anger, defiance even. The electric-types thought they hid it well, but they weren't hiding it too well. That was a sign of dishonesty, hiding your flaws to a trainer would make it difficult to build up trust and a relationship. Since Mark doesn't wanna put up with the behavior, he rejected them.

When most of the kids got a Pokémon, Mark was giving up. The other kids asked him why he hadn't gotten one yet, he simply replied, "They gave me a certain look, I could tell they were hiding something incriminating."

Being a smart kid for his age, Mark reconsider waiting next month for another shot. There would be new Pokémon with totally different personalities. Mark sighed, he wouldn't have much enthusiasm as before.

Just when he was about to give up, he noticed there was a door. Opened a jar. He asked one of the scientists what's behind the door, she simply said, "Behind that door are the inbreds, we keep them in there when we give these Pokémon away because they are just too odd to handle."

"What do you mean by too odd?" he asked.

"They don't listen, they're difficult to train. They cry a lot and they fart a lot. Smells so bad in there that we had to keep the door closed, but it's not locked. You can go on inside, if you can handle them."

Mark shrugged. Okay, he could handle a few out of control Pokémon. So he opened the door and stepped inside.

The hallway was a bit smaller and more neglected. Instead of pedestals or platforms for the Pokémon to sit on, they were stuck in cages. Small cages to be exact. Mark was appalled. The smell hit him hard, the vile stench burned the inside of his nose. Mark pressed on, he wanted to know exactly why they were locked up.

One Pokémon, a Pachirisu to the looks of it, had a lazy eye. He stared at Mark with his good eye, seemingly curious. Maybe he hadn't seen a kid come down here in a while, or a long time maybe. Unlike the other Pokémon, who showed some personality traits. This Pachirisu sat almost emotionless, just staring. His head turned like a turret every time Mark moved.

The next two Pokémon sat side by side in individual, a Plusle and Minun. They all looked at Mark and smiled, Mark smiled back. He could tell they were loving, meeting most of his criteria. The scientists didn't say he could open the cages, so he opened up Plusle's cage and was about to take him out. Then Minun burst into tears, Mark shut Plusle's cage and backed away. Plusle started calming Minun down, but he was so distraught that his words couldn't overcome his cries. Mark could tell the two were close buddies, what he didn't know he would win them in a contest and take them home years later.

As he left the two Cheering Pokémon at be, he saw up ahead one last Pokémon. A shiny sprite Emolga, sleeping on its back. Mark chuckled, this Pokémon slept on its back with arms and legs spread out. Its mouth hanging open as it let out soft snores. Mark whistled with his teeth, waking the Emolga. It sat up, its eyes were drooped and tired. It gave one good look at Mark, then smiled. Something about the Emolga made Mark curious, but what was it? So he opened up the cage, and the Emolga jumped into his arms. Giving him a big hug.

It smelled like sh*t, but Mark didn't care. Emolga was loving, fury, and caring. Just to be sure, Mark pretended to put it back in its cage, Emolga hesitated, gripping Mark with a firm grasp and almost cried. He asked it what kind of Pokémon was it, Emolga blinked at him in confusion for a moment. Then gave him a kiss on the cheek.

This is it, Mark thought, this is the Pokémon I'm looking for!

When Mark returned to the others, Emolga rested its head on his shoulder. The scientists were stunned, the other kids were either shocked or curious. The scientist who told him about the inbred hall asked why did he picked the Emolga? Mark replied, "Cause this Pokémon showed it really loved me."

"What did Emolga do?" the scientist asked.

"It kissed me on the cheek."

The scientist stared at him in science, "Strange," she finally said, "that Emolga didn't kissed anybody before."

Before Mark took it home, he went to the Pokémon Hospital to get Emolga the necessary vaccinations. The Pokémon doctor fed Emolga some Pokémon food, while it was distracted, the doctor gave it the shots into the arm. Emolga didn't even noticed, it was digging straight into that Pokémon food like a gold mine.

"How come Emolga didn't notice the shots?" Mark asked.

"Emolga's distracted, son," said the Pokémon doctor, "Pokémon are often fed Pokémon food when given shots, that way they won't feel the pain and fight back. Give them enough Pokémon food, you can amputate a leg off."

Mark nodded, "Okay, can someone give Emolga a bath. It smells?"

An Audino took delivery of washing Emolga, the Audino was surprised to see so much loose fur get washed away all at once. She almost thought the Sky Squirrel Pokémon was going naked. But nope, Emolga's fur was more full of color now. And when Mark got her back, she smelled fresh.

"Let's go home now," said Mark, "shall we?"

"Emolga!" Emolga cheered.

It would be 10 years before Mark figured out Emolga was a girl. Thinking back at that first day, Mark wondered why he hadn't had a blood test done on her. If he knew sooner, he wouldn't pass out on the floor when given the news.

I never felt so stupid in my entire life. He thought.

Emolga's cries softened and went almost muted, either she had gotten used to the pain or it went away. Mark rubbed Emolga's big ears and stroke her back, she didn't seem to notice.

"You okay, Emolga?" I asked.

"Em." she muttered.

"I'm sorry you went through this, it was all my fault. I didn't see the thorns, I didn't know where you would land. I'll make it better, but I had to put the ointment on your sore to make it better. Yes, I know it stings. But look, you're not going to die. I'm not going to let you die because it ain't your time, and because I love you."

Emolga held her head up and shone a soft smile, "Em."

"How about later we and Plusle and Minun go out for ice cream, I'll let you pick a flavor."

Emolga nodded, "Emolga!"

The Cheering Pokémon couldn't help but jump up and dance, they too loved ice cream.

. . .

Emolga had the peanut butter ice cream, Mark had mint chocolate. Plusle and Minun both had strawberry and blueberry flavored ice cream respectively. They went home and watched a movie, finishing their ice cream mid-way. When the movie was over, the sun was already setting. Mark headed upstairs and dumped aside his clothes, he walked into the shower and started it up. His Pokémon followed inside.

He ran the shower a little longer this time, normally he would shower for 2 minutes somewhere between hot and cold. A habit leftover from his military school days. This time he left it running for 4 minutes, and his Pokémon praised him for it. They grabbed the shampoo and dumped a bunch on themselves, lathering it all into their fur to get all the loose hair out of their undercoat.

Mark shut off the shower and dried off, he tossed the towel to his Pokémon and went to his bedroom to change. It wasn't much, just the usual tank top and boxers. When he turned to his bed, he was shocked to find it bare. Oh, he almost forgot. The laundry.

He went back down and checked the washing machine, it was done. He shoved the used bedsheets into the drier and ran it, then stuffed one of the comforters into the washing machine. Mark swore, this was going to take some time.

It took two hours for him to get it all washed, Mark waited patiently by reading a book in the living room. His Pokémon came down and snuggled by his side. When he was done, Mark picked up the bedsheets and comforters and head back to his bedroom. He folded the old bedsheets and sat them aside, then spread out the two comforters on his bed. He smoothed out the top comforter with an iron, getting most of the wrinkles he could see. It was getting to dark, he needed more light. Mark turned on the light at the nightstand and double-checked his work. Yeah, its good enough.

When Mark crawled in bed, his Pokémon hopped in. They snuggled up beside him as Mark got in. The smell of fresh clean fabric softener and smooth sheets was relaxing. Emolga rubbed her head into the sheets, taking in big whiffs through her nose. She was going to sleep good tonight. Mark turned off the lamp and pulled the covers over him, then wrapped an arm around his Emolga. Plusle and Minun snuggled into his side some more and Mark drew him in.

"Goodnight, girls," he said, "sweet dreams."

Plusle and Minun murmured in response, then they yawned and relaxed in a final position.

"Emo." replied Emolga, probably saying goodnight as well.

Mark reached down and kissed the top part of her head, Emolga giggled, "Emooo." she cooed Mark's name.

"You're just so adorable, Emolga," said Mark, "I wonder how I even put up with you."

Mark yawned, "At least you don't smell like sh*t anymore."

Plusle and Minun laughed, then Emolga laughed. Mark just chuckled and momentary stared up at the ceiling, within minutes everyone was asleep.

THE END!