You remember how you first came across it.
You had just been chased out of yet another city. You never understood why humans hated you so much. You never wanted to hurt them. It wasn't your fault that you were scary. You just wanted to be loved.
But the humans didn't love you. Instead, they threw things at you whenever they saw you coming, shouting things like, "Monster!", "Freak!", and "Abomination!" You should have hated them for it, but you didn't. You still held out hope that someone somewhere could love you.
That was when you stumbled into that fateful alley. You had just lost the humans, knowing that they wouldn't chase a creature such as yourself into a dark alleyway. Besides, you were far enough away from the most busy part of the city, and you knew there wouldn't be any others chasing you.
As you sat there, choking back sobs and covering your hideous face with your long, shadowy arms, you noticed it sticking out of the nearest trash can. You didn't recognize it at first, but a closer inspection revealed that it was, in fact, a torn bit of cloth.
It was a pale yellow, faded from age and neglect. You realized that whoever threw it out most likely did so because it was no longer aesthetically pleasing. In a way, you feel pity for it, because it kind of reminds you of yourself.
You pulled the cloth out and wrapped yourself in it, surprised to find that it was still intact despite obviously being old. Humans are so confusing, you thought, getting rid of perfectly good things just because they don't like the way they look.
You slept wrapped up in the little cloth that night, pulling it tight to your ghostly body. You didn't need the warmth, being a ghost, but something about it made you feel secure. You were both unwanted outcasts that didn't look right, lost in a world that rejected you. You had never felt so attached to an inanimate object in your life.
You brought it with you everywhere after that. You had fashioned it into some kind of hood, poking little holes in it for your eyes to stick out. You figured that maybe if you covered up your face, people wouldn't be scared of you anymore. They'd play with you and feed you and pet you and love you, just like they did to their other Pokémon.
It didn't work. They still chased you out, yelling that they weren't fooled by your crude disguise, that they didn't want demons and imps like you running around. You might have hated them then, if only for a split second, when you reminded yourself that you wouldn't be loved if you lived in hate.
But you couldn't make the feeling go away. The more you traveled, the more it began to grow, festering inside you like a rotting wound. You didn't want to hate them, but you did. You did and you hated that you did, which made you feel worse because now you hated two things.
Then, one day, after another unsuccessful attempt at making friends, you found one of them. A yellow mouse, a bit bigger than yourself, parading around the city like it owned the place.
You wanted to warn the creature that it wasn't safe, that the humans would scream at it and hurt it and chase it away. But the second it ran into one of them, something peculiar happened: they bent down and stroked its head.
You watched in bewilderment as more and more humans gathered around, cooing affectionately at the little thing. The mouse looked so content that you wondered how many times this had happened to it.
You continued to watch the creature throughout the day. Every time it came across a human, it smiled and said, "Pikachu!", and the human would coo and give it a berry or a Poké Puff or a loving pet. You felt jealousy in the pit of your stomach along with your hunger pains. It wasn't fair. You should have been the one receiving all that love and affection. What made this mouse so special?
Even when the mouse left the city, you followed it. You lurked quietly in the shadows, true to your Ghost typing, and watched its every move. It went to more towns. It got more food. It played with the human children and slept on the laps of the elderly. It never went hungry. It always had someplace warm to rest. You hated it. You hated it with all your might.
After about a week of following it around, something peculiar happened. As it made its way through the forest to the next town, a strange-looking human showed up.
The human didn't look like any you had ever seen before. Their eyes widened when they saw the mouse. In an instant, they removed something from a bag they had over their shoulder and threw it to the ground. You gasped silently. Out of the ball popped a large cat, black with red stripes and a flame on its neck.
The mouse looked scared and shot out a spark in an attempt to defend itself. It barely did anything to the cat, who responded by shooting a fireball out of its mouth. You couldn't watch. You looked away until you heard an unfamiliar sound.
The mouse was gone, and in its place was the same red and white ball that the cat came out of. It wiggled around once, twice, three times, and then it stopped with a click.
The human let out a triumphant cry, rushing to pick up the ball. They opened it up and the mouse came out, immediately rushing over to nuzzle the human's leg. It seemed to have completely forgotten about the fact that it was just beaten and stuffed into a capsule.
You followed the human as they entered the next city. They took the cat and the mouse to a big, clean building where a nice clean human in nice clean clothes healed them up. Then, they left without so much as a "thank you."
You watched them with great curiosity. The more you did, the more jealous you became. The mouse got to participate in great battles, was surrounded by tons of friends, and had a human who loved and took care of it. You wanted that. You wanted that so bad.
You shifted attention to the human. They had four other Pokémon with them that they gave the same love and attention to. None of them look like you.
You started to wonder what it would be like to be part of a team. You wanted friends. You wanted food. You wanted to be loved.
That's why, when the human was distracted, you took the colorful pens that they used to write fancy letters to their family. You scribbled on your cloth costume with some effort, trying to recreate the face of the yellow mouse. You took a crooked piece of wood from the forest and attached it to the back of your outfit.
When you were done, you looked at your reflection in the pond. You looked perfect, better than you had ever looked before. People would definitely love you now.
One night, the human was camping out in the woods. The nearest town was far away, but they had at least come prepared. When they finally closed their eyes, you made your move.
The mouse was outside of its ball. You made a slight rustling noise in the bushes behind it, catching its attention. Though your mouth was hidden by the costume, you were smiling in sick satisfaction. Your plan was almost complete.
The mouse's ears pricked when you called out to it, making a quiet "Kriii" noise. It responded with a nervous "Pika?"
You assured it that you meant it no harm. You told it to follow your voice. You said you were lost and separated from your human.
It was so easy.
When the human woke up and saw you standing there, your flawless disguise masking your true identity, you expected them to be happy.
Instead, they screamed.
