It was difficult to be N.
Everywhere he looked, there were Pokemon. Of course there were. Pokemon were used for everything: workers, helpers, companions. It was the Pokemon world after all; why not take advantage of such friendly creatures?
It disgusted him.
How could they use such friendly creatures in battle against each other? How could they not realize that their own Pokemon, the ones they call partners, are screaming in pain and yelling death threats at each other?
It frustrated him.
Sometimes the Pokemon's speak got to be too much, overwhelming him as if he were walking down a busy street. Some of them were happy with their trainers, others were not. It was as simple as black and white. Either they loved their masters, or hated them.
It worried him.
That was why he needed to liberate these Pokemon. He realized that some of them loved their trainers, but there were so many that didn't. So many that felt like they were used as tools. And with his father and Team Plasma's help, he could. They understood, or at least claimed to. Team Plasma, with their strange outfits, and even stranger motives. They would help them, wouldn't they? They realized that Pokemon needed to be free to be happy.
So why were their Pokemon crying?