Try to understand that I don't actually have Super Smash Bros 4. In addition, I am well aware that there are some characters I will never mention. I'm sorry ahead of time, but that's the way it is. I apologize for spelling/grammar errors.
I'm not going to repeat this in all the chapters so I'll say it now: I own none of the characters here at all in any sense of the word. That would be cool, but I don't.
Sheik leapt up, spinning around, her legs and arms slicing the air and smashing the targets with deadly accuracy. She landed, spun around on her shoulders, legs extended in the splits and smashing two more targets before she righted herself and then straightened, tossing her head to remove some of her blonde hair from her eyes.
"Good job," said the bored voice of one of the judges. "Move along. You'll receive a text in the morning."
She narrowed her eyes, but obediently left the stage, vaporizing through a door-like portal and into the large room where hundreds of other Nintendo characters were milling about, waiting for their turn to show off for the judges in the Super Smash Bros 4 tryouts.
Sheik threaded through the throng and continued down the hall to her room. She softly opened the door, shut it and tore the white mask from her face. Ripping off her turban as well Sheik fell back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling through narrowed red eyes.
Yes, those judges had plenty of tryouts not to pay any special attention to her, but they could have showed a little more appreciation. She had given her best, exerting her whole effort in body and mind, to remember all her moves, and execute them to the best of her ability. The judges had barely watched and even seemed bored. From the snippets she had caught of a few other performances, she'd thought hers would be pretty good. Apparently not.
"Well, I'll enjoy going back home, I guess," she muttered, pouring some tea for herself. She sighed as the steam from the hot water clouded her vision. "I can't believe I have to stay here just to hear them reject me." She sat down with a thump in her office chair and scooted over to the table where her laptop sat. Turning it on, she opened up her email and re-read her mother's.
Dear Sheik,
We're so proud of you! It's so exciting for us to see you all grown up and all of your practice with gymnastics, karate, and fighting has really paid off. We know that you will wow those judges and can't wait to get an email from that legendary Smash Mansion. You passed the heats with flying colors, but always remember that passing tests isn't what makes you important or special, no matter what anyone says. You are special because you are you.
We love you!
Mom and Dad
Sheik dropped her head onto the desk, blindly setting her tea cup down on the mahogany tabletop. She'd been excited too; excited as she could get. Such a build up for such a letdown.
Even now she didn't feel like acting optimistic and convincing herself that the judges had probably really been watching after all and thought she was amazing and would send her an acceptance letter first thing in the morning. She had tried positive thinking leading up to this and it hadn't gotten her very far.
She knew she was too solemn and quiet for her own good. Her mom had continually begged her to go out shopping with some of the other girls, but she'd never agreed. Yes, she loved her mother, but she couldn't stand going out and doing something she hated with a bunch of girls who thought she was weird, when she could practice her flips and fighting skills. Socializing wasn't her thing. Being happy and giddy wasn't her thing.
"Yeah. I'm just special. So special I'm weird. Too unique, you could say," she muttered, pulling out her phone as it buzzed. The text was from her father.
"How'd it go, hon?"
She tapped back an answer. "Don't know yet."
"Love you!" came the reply.
A smile forced itself to her tight lips and she gave a little whimper as she sent, "Love u 2." It would be terrible to disappoint her parents. She knew that even though they might be overjoyed to have her with them instead of off somewhere else with a people they didn't know, they would still be disappointed she hadn't made it. Perhaps not disappointed in her, but disappointed in the judges. Still, Sheik knew that the judges were top class. They watched and instantly knew who was the best.
"How on earth can they even see anything?" she growled, standing up and gulping down her tea.
She slammed the empty cup down in the sink. "I mean two of them were gloved hands with no eyes!"
Tucking her hair behind her ears she wrapped her braid around her neck in her usual habit, sticking the end of it in her mouth as she thought, her nose wrinkling. "They must be some sort of strange… I don't know. Covered with eyes or something."
Unwrapping her neck, she began to undress. It was always a laborious task to strip down. Each finger was wrapped in white cloth, which took time to unwind. It was even worse to dress in the morning. Her mother had always said that she was blessed she was an early riser, because otherwise she would constantly be late for everything.
Sheik slipped on black leggings and a simple T-shirt. She placed her neatly folded clothes in the washer and turned it on.
"I guess I should pack everything else. Go home or go to Brawl, I still can't stay here."
She couldn't bring herself to do anything, and flopped down on the bed. Performing was exhausting, especially doing it with the mental strain of a 'pass or fail' attitude.
Her eyes closed softly and she took a deep breath and let it out, thinking over her routine. Had she done everything right? She'd tripped once, and had to make a second leap for the fifth target, but that wasn't too bad was it? Maybe the judges expected perfection. And maybe there were enough people that one failure meant a failure.
Sheik's alarm went off on her phone and she jerked awake, blinking at the ceiling twice, before leaping out of bed with a grunt and landing lightly on the floor, knees bent, one hand deftly touching the ground for balance, the other held out in a fist that would normally have grasped her chain.
She stood and turned the phone off, her fingers itching to tap in her passcode and read the text she knew she should have gotten from the authorities by now. Go home or go to Brawl. One or the other. Pass or fail.
She tore her gaze from her screen and began dressing, purposely forcing herself to do so slowly and with greater precision than normal. "I will not look until I'm ready to leave," she repeated over and over as she wrapped her turban, positioned her mask, and began packing her gray suitcase. She carefully placed each item inside, packed her computer up in its case, and finally nestled her tea cup and saucer next to her pajamas. Then she stood, looked around to see if she was missing anything and took a deep breath. She knew she had it all, yet still, though part of her begged for the phone and all-important text, the rest of her made her make her bed, tidy up the bathroom and kitchen, and zip up the bag, checking to make sure her label was still firmly in place.
She stood, placed her suitcase by the door and froze as a sound ripped the silence.
"Yahoooo!" came a voice just outside her door. "I got in! Yes, yes yessss!"
Color flared into her cheeks and her red eyes narrowed at the door as whoever it was continued to cheer and until a door opened and someone else, who apparently hadn't gotten anything, shouted, "That's great, champ! Shut your - treasure box and keep your - information to yourself!"
Sheik took a deep breath and walked over to her nightstand, clicked on her phone, and tapped in her passcode. Her stomach churned as she tapped on the new text and read it.
"Sheik. Congratulations. The judges have unanimously decided that you should be a part of Super Smash Bros 4. Please go to the front desk some time before eight o'clock and show this message to the lobbyist. He or she will give you directions from there."
Sheik stared. She blinked. Then her eyes filled with tears and she sat on her bed with a thump, pulling down her mask so she could cover her mouth with one hand.
"What?" Her voice cracked and she buried her head in her hands, her back heaving with sobs of relief. Her hands shook with pent up emotion and she sobbed harder, the tears sliding down her cheeks and melting into the folds of her mask.
"Calm yourself, Sheik. Stop it. You did it. You did it. No more trying to be good enough. You're good enough. You did it."
Sheik dashed into the bathroom, wiped her eyes, calmed herself, wiped her eyes again, and glared at her reflection. "Stop it. Settle down. Ugh, red puffy eyes match my irises."
She pulled up her mask, shook her bangs out so they basically hid any signs of tears, and returned to her phone. She slid it into the front pocket in her backpack and slung it onto her back, hoisting up her suitcase in her right hand, and opening the door with the other.
The hall was already full of people. Some were talking in low voices, others were talking in loud voices, and it was obvious by the mixed sound that some were ecstatic, others were calm, still more resigned, and a few sobbing.
"I cried for the wrong reason," she murmured through her mask, walking firmly down the carpeted hallway and into the elevator.
Two young boys were inside, both wearing striped shirts. One had blonde hair gelled into a single spike and the other was wearing a baseball hat. The hat one smiled pleasantly at her.
"Hiya! How'd your thing go yesterday, masked… person?"
"Fine, thank you," she answered stiffly.
"Guy or girl?"
"Female."
"Oh. Cool. I'm Ness."
"Pleasure."
"This is Lucas."
"Likewise."
"Your name?"
"Sheik."
"Cool. Weird name. Did you make it into Brawl?"
She smirked behind her mask and stared down at him through narrowed eyes. "Yes." Her voice sounded so certain and she was ashamed. If this boy could have seen her in her room he would not be looking at her in awe.
"Wow. I guess you knew you were going to, huh? I made it too, and Lucas here is a DLC."
"I'm glad that I made it in, even if it's just barely," the blonde said quietly.
"Yeah. I'm surprised they let me in with all the mistakes I made in my performance," Ness assured him, grinning at her.
Sheik had no comment and they reached the bottom floor.
"You going to the lobby too?" asked Ness, grabbing his brother's hand.
She nodded, glancing around.
"Can we come with you? I don't know where it is."
She glanced at him and spotted a directory behind the two on the wall. Relieved that she wouldn't have to show too much ignorance, she walked over to it, and led them down one hall and to the left.
Behind the large desk, framed with potted plants, a beautiful picture as a background, was a middle aged woman with glasses and black hair flecked with gray. "May I see your texts please," she said in a dull voice.
Sheik unlocked her phone and turned it so the woman could see the screen and the text that had instantly changed her life.
"Thank you. Down that hall, open the far door, give your suitcase to one of the young men in uniforms there, and take your backpack with you. Board any bus marked "Smash Mansion" and pick any seat not occupied. Thank you." The woman mechanically turned to the young boys and Sheik walked off, heart pounding as she walked down the appointed hall and opened the door into bright sunlight.
Eyes squinted she spotted a young man in a blue jacket with a matching cap.
"Hey there, new smasher," he said cheerfully, walking up to her.
She handed him her suitcase.
"Neat mask. Find any bus."
She looked over the three vehicles parked by the curb and finally strode purposely towards the first, walking through the door and into the air conditioning. She sat down in the first available seat and placed her backpack on the floor by her feet, letting out a contented sigh. This was going to be great.
Five minutes later the bus began to fill rapidly, but Sheik kept her eyes fixed firmly on her phone, not bothering to look around at who it was that would be fighting her in the coming brawls.
"Hey, Sheik," said a voice across the aisle.
It wasn't Ness or Lucas. This was a man.
Her head jerked up and she stared over at the young man who sat in his seat. His dirty blonde hair and green outfit were familiar and she remembered him instantly.
"Hi."
"Got in, huh?"
"Yes."
"Happy about it? You know no one can tell what you are if you don't tell them."
She glared at him. "Talk to someone else who enjoys your conversation, Link." Turning back to her phone she bent on ignoring him as he continued to talk.
"You know Zelda's here too."
"Hmph."
"And Ganondorf."
She didn't reply as she remembered the orange haired boy. Except he was probably a man now. She had had a crush on him for the longest time. He had been an outsider like her too, but no matter how she had showed off when she thought he was looking, he had never said less than one word to her. It wasn't surprising; he never talked unless he had to, but she had always wished that he would somehow feel different about her. Now she'd dumped those childish emotions.
She was not one of those popular girls, like Zelda, who was so pretty and perfect and behaved just like she was supposed to, but was also rich. Zelda had always gotten all the boys and last time Sheik had seen her she was dating the most popular male in their town—Link.
Link was a tease and a little easily angered, but he was stunningly handsome despite his seemingly lackadaisical ways and every girl she'd known was head over heels in love with him. She had never found him attractive, but in the way any girl wishes to be noticed, she'd always wondered how it would be if he actually secretly liked her but never showed it.
Even now she wondered if he liked her, but that was out of the question. And, glancing briefly around the bus, Sheik knew that even if Zelda was still the picture perfect young woman she had been when Sheik had seen her last, she would have lots of rivals to keep Link's attentions.
Already she could see a number of young women, picture perfect in appearance, and obviously very interesting people from the way they dressed, and the fact that they had gotten into Super Smash Bros 4.
"You still like him?"
"Huh?"
"Ganondorf?"
Sheik hoped her hair and mask hid her blush. "No."
"You still like me?"
"No. And I never did."
His chuckle showed he knew better and she glared at her phone, tapping 'send' and watching her text of 'joy' deliver to her parents. "I'm in. They accepted me."
The answer came back almost instantly, showing her that they had been waiting on her text with baited breath all morning. "We're so proud of you! Congratulations! We'll miss you, but we're so happy for you! Don't forget us!" Attached was a picture of both of them beaming. She squinted and felt her own eyes fill as she noticed her mother's eyes glistening with tears of joy.
She clicked it off, stuffed it in her backpack, and folded her arms, shutting her eyes and wondering how long it would take to reach this legendary mansion.
Anyone want the next chapter?