A/N: Sorry about the odd word count, ffn counts words differently from Libreoffice. They're all precisely 100 words long.
I remember my first catch: a weedle, like that of so many others beginning trainers. I was lousy at first, but proud to own a pokemon.
Once I started my journey, the others sneered at me, claiming a beedrill would never take me to the top. I listened to them. I believed them. I gave my beedrill away.
And here I am, at the top of the mountain, with no further heights left to be conquered. I am the champion, my team undefeated. All my pokemon are the cream of the crop. I am victorious.
And I miss my beedrill.
Caterpie cowered in the undergrowth, hiding under an enormous lead. One move, one sound, and the beast prowling about Caterpie's usually peaceful home would spot him and end his life.
He hadn't known. How could he have known? Caterpie had never seen anything like the blue monster in front of him before. Granted, he lived in a world where the rule was eat or be eaten, but it wasn't like this. It had never been like this.
The beast roared and stomped further away. Caterpie dared not move. It would come back.
Someone had released a garchomp in the woods.
The night before the tournament of the champions, there was a wondrous feast for all participants. It was there that their eyes first met.
They talked the whole night, in hushed tones in a secluded corner. One painted fire pokemon as a hobby, the other dived to find water pokemon. Above all, they both wanted to win.
But after a night of wild plans and furtive kisses, they also wanted each other to win.
The next day, when pitted against each other, they both gave up. The organisers were distraught, but neither of them cared. Their victory was already complete.
The officer sighed. It was the third time the Pokemart had been robbed that week. Not much had been stolen, but it all added up. The shopkeeper, spooked but unharmed, grumbled to anyone who would listen about how his own pokemon just weren't enough against the really rotten kids.
She jotted everything down, but at the same time knew how hard it would be to track down the culprit. The description given matched far too many kids to be of use.
She massaged her temples. Whose bright idea had it been to allow ten-year-olds to own giant, fire-breathing lizards, again?
The moon was full, and unusually bright. Annie's clefairy squealed in excitement.
Annie laughed and lifted her clefairy onto the top of her head. "Yeah, that's where you come from, isn't it? Take a good look."
Clefairy chattered happily, and Annie felt happy, too. Then, she made the mistake of her life; she loosened her hold of Clefairy.
Without warning, Clefairy began to float, rising quickly upwards like an errant helium balloon.
Annie balked and tried to catch it. "Hey! Come back, Clefairy!"
But it was too late. The clefairy was beyond her reach, floating ever closer to the moon.
Haunter was lonely.
Years ago, the route by the ruins she haunted had led to a small town, insignificant save for a pokemon gym. Many trainers passing by chose to explore the ruins, and she had done her best to spook them.
She had been happy, then.
She floated aimlessly around the crumbling old fortress. The gym was gone, the town was gone, the trainers were gone. No-one cared about the ruins, just like no-one had ever cared enough about her to catch her.
There were footsteps on the road. A lost trainer was approaching. Haunter grinned.
Hope springs eternal...