This isn't really my first fanfic – in fact, it is quite recent. The first ever Pokémon fanfiction I wrote was during my years in primary/elementary school (each story didn't last for more than a page though...). I would say that this one is my most successful one up to now, so please read and enjoy!

Disclaimer: No, like all of you dear fanfic writers, I do not own Pokemon.

The Least I Can Do

By Silverfinch

There I was. Bad luck had driven me to a trainer. Why today? The first day I left the security of my clan to build my own life? And yet, I have never been trained against another pokemon, thus have no fighting experience. I know, my level was pretty low and the Bulbasaur in front of me had a glint of determined confidence in its eyes.

While I was still idiotically pondering, the Bulbasaur tackled me with full force. I was knocked out almost instantly, being propelled off my feet to crash onto the rough bark of a tree. But before I totally blacked out, I felt something cold hit my side and for a second, I got that terrible feeling of being trapped in a whirlpool…

I didn't know how many hours, or even days, had passed before I finally woke up, fully energized. I stared around. Everywhere was green, green and more green. It was like being back into the forest, making me feel kind of comfortable. But something queer told me that I was not in the forest. Small windows displayed beyond the trees showed me the real outside world. The view outside the windows shifted suddenly. I felt the ground I was standing on shake and volatilize and the rest happened so fast I could quite describe the situation to you, I just saw a white flash and there I am, outside. A voice came from behind me, ordering me to attack the Weedle I was facing.

I'm confused. Why should I obey to this stranger? I won't submit to anyone except myself. It was quite funny, a part of me urged me to do as the stranger told but that part wasn't the real me. I once heard some seniors in my clan say that if you got caught in one of those balls, it will somehow affect your mind – though I'm not sure how – to obey the 'trainer', I guess that's what we call those humans that caught you.

I won't obey. I won't obey to someone who had just taken away my freedom. I will just stand here, get defeated by the Weedle and hope that my 'trainer' will get angry and release me.

I reared up on my hind legs, exposing my most vulnerable part – my belly. As intended, the Weedle took the chance. It lunged at me, sharp sting pointed forward. I can feel the warm blood on my stomach as the horn pierced into my flesh. The anger caused by the pain of it blinded my mind, causing me to forget everything I planned. I whacked the Weedle away with my paw and charged onto it, sending it back into the forest's undergrowth.

I stared through the trees, panting.

"Nice work." said my 'trainer', stroking my head.

I jerked my head away from his grip and bit his hand. He winced. I locked my jaw, I wanted to hurt him as much as I can, I wanted him to hate me as much as I hate him, I wanted him to leave me alone, I wanted him to abandon me.

The pain in my stomach suddenly worsened and I released his hand. Good. Now he'll leave me alone. Who would want a poisoned pokemon anyway? I'm sure that there's a thousand more of my kind who are willing to get caught and live a comfortable life with a human, although that means that whatever dignity left in them will be gone.

I laid on the ground, half awake. To my surprise, I felt him pick me up in his arms. I was too weak to fight back and I felt cold even though we were in the middle of summer. Through blurry eyes, I guess I saw him carry me into a cave, where he lit up a fire to provide warmth. He cleared my cut, gave me some antidote and bandaged my wound to then take care of his own teeth-marked hand.

"The Pokemon Center is still pretty far away." he said to me soothingly. "You'll need to get a bit better before we face the long journey ahead to Nurse Joy."

So, he's trying to be nice. I know what he wanted and I won't fall into his trap so easily. He wanted me to repay his favors with my obedience and let him gain control over me. Tsss! Wait till your next life 'cause this will never happen.

I was healed within two days but my spirit still stood tough, in fact, it was even burning stronger than before. I bit him whenever he touches me, I ignored his commands and I did my best to behave hatefully but it never seemed to work. I've built up a new plan now. I'll be training myself harder than ever. If I can't get it the soft way, I'll have it by the hard way. But first, I'll need to be powerful enough to be able to blast him off effortlessly.

Evolving, one of the most marvelous moments in a pokemon's life. You feel your body growing steadily stronger, a new rush of power surging into you by the second and an ever rising confidence boosting up your self-esteem. That happened a few days ago, but I still have the thrill of it coursing through my veins.

Once again, there was the familiar shaking of the ground and I was sprung out of me pokeball. I was expecting an adversary pokemon but found none and I was rather facing a thick forest. Puzzled by the switch of routine, I turned around. My 'trainer' knelt down slowly until we were at eye level.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked me softly, looking me straight in the eyes. "Your behavior isn't normal."

I returned the stare defiantly. What does he mean by that? He had got me for almost a year now and he still doesn't know what I want! Talk about understanding pokemons…

"(I want my freedom!)" I replied fiercely.

He stared at me. I stared back. He raised his hand and stroked my now snowy white fur and I did the usual by digging my teeth into his hand. This time he smile faintly and stroked my fur with his left hand. I guess he hasn't understood what I just said. I was about to repeat when he cut me off.

"Well then," – he let a hesitant pause take place – "you're free."

The obedient side of me immediately lifted as he pronounced the words. I blinked, not quite believing what I just heard. I released his hand rather slowly, back off he few pace to make sure, then turned around to hop away, the bushes' rustling covering the faint padding of my eager paws. The scene flashed by my mind once again and I thought I saw sorrow dull his eyes, but who cares? I considered it as an illusion. Yet, I've heard people say that one can become very attached to their pokemon even in a short amount of time…but how can one love a pokemon that doesn't even return the love? Confusing…very confusing.

I guess my life is meant to be caught or to stay caught. I few weeks after my release to freedom, I got hit by one of those pokeballs again. Hatred had taken over me at first but a few days later, it had turned into fear. My new 'trainer' – I had never accepted the fact of him being my new trainer – was cruel, evil and cold-hearted. He was a robber, he commands his pokemons to do sinister jobs, and sometimes, he even killed innocent humans. But worst of all, this time I was forced to obey.

When I fail the job he demands me to heed, he usually doesn't feed me for a couple of days or, as second option, send out another of his pokemons to give me what he calls a 'good lesson'. And when HE fails a task for HIS boss, he always punishes me as if it was my fault (well, I think that everyone of that Team Rocket group doesn't care much about their pokemon anyways.)

My holder came back from a meeting, oddly excited. My colleagues and I tore ourselves away from our midday nap to crowd around him, for he seems to have something to tell us by judging the spark of anticipation in his eyes. Once we were all attentive, he began to blab so fast that I only managed to catch a few words out of what he said, although after some logical match ups, I think I get the point of it. It's something like this – he's been sent on an important mission involving the extermination of a powerful character. Eliminate the obstacle and grab the pokeballs, it's always the same rule.

Hunger. Was what dominated my mind. I've been stuck in my pokeball for three whole days, he probably forgot about me as he often does. Then what I was waiting for finally came. The ground shook and I was sent into the world outside. I stretched out my sore muscles, grateful to feel the late evening breeze caress my fur once more. I opened my eyes to inspect my surrounding. What I saw wasn't quite what I had expected. No bowl of Pokechow, but a crew of fainted pokemons. So for what exactly had he called me out for? The silent alleyway suddenly looked very oppressing.

"Attack him."

I turned my head around to give my master a questioning stare. Attack who? Attack what? There's no pokemon fit to battle, so where's to need to cause unnecessary injuries.

"Didn't you hear me?" barked my master. "I said attack him!"

He was pointing at something beyond the battlefield. I followed his finger to gaze at a tall, weary figure standing at the other end of the field. Our eyes met and none of us intended to break the link. And I saw him.

He was the one who once caught me, thought respected me, took care of me, and dare I say…loved me? I knew he recognized me for I saw his right hand twitched as he gazed intently at me. I now regret to have left him and hurt him when all he's trying to do is to care for me.

"What are you waiting for???" yelled my the my annoying owner, seeing that I wasn't doing anything. "Kill him and I'm guaranteed to get a promotion!"

Kill him? That was what I had wished for all those years ago, but no more. I owe him too much. I bent my limbs into a graceful bow, implying clearly that I would not hurt him and that he had gained my respect.

"Useless beast! What are you doing?"

I whirled around abruptly, baring my sharp teeth at that worthless Team Rocket employee in such a ferocious way that he stepped back a few pace in fright. Then I strode by my true trainer's side, head held high.

"Based on what I see, your last pokemon had let you down." said my trainer, gently stroking my head, which I did not protest.

"If that's the case, I'll do it myself." With that, he brought out a metallic instrument from his vest pocket.

I recognized it immediately. That thing meant danger to whoever it was pointing at. He had used it numerous times and each time I hear that loud explosion sound, blood would be shed.

And now, I heard it again. In one swift movement, I pounced upward, tackling my trainer out of the way. Then, I saw blood, blood contrasting against my silvery white fur. That's the least I could do for him.

I hit the cold ground hard. Dirt flew up under the collision, pricking at my muzzle. I saw a pair of legs which slowly faded into the darkness. But most important of all, I heard his distant voice, my true master.

"No! Ninetales!"

The End

Personally, I don't really like sad endings but I think this kind of closures matched the story better than any other would. It was quite entertaining to write this story – and not as painstaking as my previous ones although I did enjoy them too – so…where was I again? Oh yeah, please review to let me know what you thought about the story, it would be highly appreciated.