This is a story about an abused Pikmin's life, and her view on the world that she lives in. This story begins to take place before the first Pikmin game and may or may not continue into the first. This story does include new fan-made Pikmin colors and perhaps new areas and/or monsters. These new areas, monsters and Pikmin are fan-made and not created by the makers of Pikmin themselves. Any future similarities are simply coincidence.
All characters, monsters, areas and Pikmin in general are © Nintendo.
Prologue
I used to think that I knew myself. I knew that I was a Pink. I knew what I looked like and how I should instinctively behave. I knew that we were pulled from the ground and had to follow the one who pulled us up until the moment we died. A parent of sorts, I suppose. But I never really knew why. It was just something that we all accepted.
We live, we work, and eventually we return to the ground from where we were born, one way or another. It all sounds so simple, but it's not. Everything is so much more complicated than it has to be. Like, why do we come in different shapes and colors, and why can't we all just get along? Are we not the same, after all?
I... I know that I have outlived many, if not most, of the others I had gotten to know over my lifetime. Our lives, they're so... fragile. So is everything else in this insane world. Life, love, happiness... after a while, it all seems so pointless, everything going around and around in circles, never changing or going anywhere. Like the exact same story told time and time again, only slightly different. And yet I keep on living. Why? Why are we here, why are we alive? Do we have a purpose? And why are we following these creatures who fell from the sky one day in a metal monster?
It's questions like these that have led me through the improbable and strange torment that is my life...