HAZE. →A↓→A↓
He inhaled sharply and suddenly found himself choking on the stench of sweat and his own blood pooling on the hot street beneath him. With a grim smile and realization that washed over him like the hot, August sun, Marth let slip his final words… →A↓→A↓
If you know anything about Kagerou Days, you'll have a pretty clear idea about just where this story is going. The plan is to keep it around three to four chapters. You know, hopefully. I also hope this actually makes sense... and that I didn't miss anything.
Rated T for character death, possibly disturbing content, minor language, and weird grammatical errors that might come about as I type on my tablet. The thing hates typing.
→A↓→A↓ is the Song of Time, just to clear things up.
The middle of August, Marth thought, seemed like an awfully peculiar month for a fighting tournament to take place. It was a scorching hot month, and he'd never experienced it any other way. The lingering scent of blood and sweat in the locker room was almost too much to stomach in combination with the added heat of the collection of bodies. When he closed his eyes, Marth was almost reminded of war. His mind began to wander.
He was ripped away from his thoughts when Link, a fellow competitor, bumped into him. Neither man made any indication that they had noticed other than a quick aside glance and apologetic nod—Link remaining in his usual state of silence and Marth in regal posture. Their eyes met for a brief moment, but the connection was quickly lost. They were not friends, only competitors. Aside from noble tales that leaked their way around the competition, the two hardly knew anything about each other.
As the Hylian man went about his way, Marth sighed and wiped the sweat from his neck and face. Slipping on a spare shirt from his locker, he cast his towel into the pile with the rest of the soiled ones and headed straight for his room. He would shower in privacy—the idea of doing so in a group of strangers he'd pulled his blade on slightly unsettling. His mind drifted back to Link, and Marth bit his lip. I should have said something…
"Good afternoon, Prince Marth!" Came a chipper Princess Peach from down the hall. Presumably, she was on her way to prepare for her own match for the day.
Marth offered a polite bow and warm smile, "Good afternoon to you too, mi'lady."
"Did your match go well?"
"Ah, yes. I took second place, actually." Marth smiled.
Peach laughed playfully and then eyed Marth quizzically, "Second?"
Marth nodded, "There is no shame in losing to a strong fighter. I gave it my all, and I am content enough with my performance for now."
"I see..." Peach said, her face quickly lighting up. "Your match was against Link, right?"
"That is correct."
"By the way…" Peach began. "Do you two know each other well? It seems like you do."
Marth's eyes widened in surprise, "Hm? Does it? No, we do not."
"Really? I heard Zelda say earlier that—"
As if the mere mention of her name had summoned her, Zelda entered the hall. She nodded to the other royals. "Princess Peach. Prince Marth."
They returned the gesture. Before the prince even had a chance, Peach spoke up first. "Oh, Zelda! I was just asking Marth about Link. You said that they knew each other well, right?"
Zelda stood still for a moment, and then shook her head. "Not that I can recall."
"Oh, darn! I could have sworn that you did." Peach sighed. "I'm sorry, Marth. I didn't mean to spread a rumor."
Marth laughed. "No worries, mi'lady. Now, if you'll excuse me…"
"Oh, of course!"
As he left the room, Marth could have sworn he felt a chill as he passed Zelda. He briefly stopped again, turning to face her. She returned his gaze.
"Marth… Please take care at your match tomorrow."
His eyes shot open as he ripped the blankets off of his body in a panic. He sat still for a moment, his hands feeling clammy from waking in a cold sweat. The only sound was the clock ticking on the wall. He let his eyes fall on the object, seeing it was only a little past midnight. That made it August 15th.
The match was today…
The participants of the match braced themselves as the transporter sent them to Onett. Marth's heart dropped when he saw Ness, Lucas, and Pikachu appear on the stage with him. Two children and an animal. The prince was completely oblivious about how they even managed to get accepted into a fighting tournament.
He clutched Falchion's hilt but quickly released it. There was absolutely no way that he would—
—the announcer made the call, and the match began. Before Marth had time to collect himself, chaos had overtaken Onett.
Ness leapt for the pitfall and successfully snatched it away from Lucas' grasp. Wide eyed and cautious, Lucas darted in the opposite direction and directly towards Marth. Startled, Lucas called out an attack. Equally as startled, Marth ripped Falchion from its sheath and tried to block the fireball. His attempt was only moderately successful—the brunt of the attack blocked but the overwhelming heat of the blaze making him dizzy.
Down below, Ness made use of the pitfall and hurled it at Pikachu in the road, not noticing the fast approaching truck down the way. Lucas gasped and jumped back down to the ground, completely forgetting about the prince above.
Panic set in immediately. Suddenly, winning the match seemed to be the children's lowest priority.
"Pikachu!" The boy cried, leaping after the Pokemon.
"Ness, no!" Said Lucas, gripping the other boy's arm with a deadly strength.
Ness struggled to tear himself away and jump after Pikachu, but Lucas was determined to prevent it. His voiced panicked and eyes wild, he whirled around to face Marth.
"Do something, you're an adult!"
"Stop the match!" Marth shouted, his eyes darting in the direction of the match overseer. "Stop the match, this is serious!"
The answer came quickly and silently, No.
"Please! He'll die!"
No.
"Marth!"
"Damn it!" Marth swore and sheathed his sword before jumping from the roof top to the street below.
He reached Pikachu just in time to free him from the hole in the ground, but the contact frightened the Pokemon. The match had never been called. As far as Pikachu knew, they were still in the middle of a fight. With a frightening quickness, Pikachu electrocuted his savoir and scrambled out of the street, leaving the prince behind.
Marth collapsed from the shock, his mind blank for just seconds too long for him to think to drag himself out of the way of the truck. The audience roared to life with mixed sounds of cheers and gasps as they witnessed exactly what more than half of them had come to see. The children still glued to the sidewalk burst into panicked cries drowned out by the sound of the announcer calling the match too late.
Marth heard nothing of it—drowning drowned out by the sound of high pitched ringing in his ears. His eyes rolled about the scene, seeing everything but comprehending nothing. His focused blurred, and he blinked slowly in an attempt to recover it. He saw nothing except for the blue blur of sky and his own body contorted in a way that struck him as odd.
And yet it all seemed horrifically familiar.
He inhaled sharply and suddenly found himself choking on the stench of sweat and his own blood pooling on the hot street beneath him. With a grim smile and realization that washed over him like the hot, August sun, Marth let slip his final words,
"Forgive me, my friends..."
The competitors were in an uproar, pointing fingers and crying foul as the prince's body was peeled off the concrete and promptly shipped to his family back home. The committee braved the front with a chilling coolness and robotic responses likely pulled straight from a trainee handbook.
"We are deeply sorry for the immense tragedy that has occurred here today, but we ask that you please return to your respective rooms and trust the committee to deal with the situation."
"Accidents happen."
"As horrifically tragic as this is, we ask you to do your best to focus on your future matches."
"He knew what he was getting himself into."
Gathered in the lounge room, the competitors brave enough to do so voiced their opinions.
"It's... disgusting." Spat Peach, the two children from the match asleep on her lap. "How could they? Why wouldn't they call the match? Couldn't they see what was happening?"
"'Course they could." Came Falco's voice by the window. "They just didn't care."
"But how could they—"
"What good would it have done anyway?" Samus mumbled. "We don't know if stopping the match would have stopped the car."
"And why didn't the car stop?" Peach continued, her expression blank and voice airy in horror. "The driver must have..."
"Not cared." Falco finished, his eyes trailing off.
"But it was on a course run by the committee."
The silence that hung over the room was thick enough to choke on.
"I think... I think I'm going to be sick."
As gently as she could, Zelda moved the children from Peach's lap so she could leave the room. Mario and Luigi followed behind her.
"If you ask me, I think the Committee had it right when they said he had it coming." All eyes snapped in Ganondorf's direction as he spoke.
"They never said that." Samus corrected.
"Might as well have..." Snake mumbled between puffs of a cigarette. "The little birdie's got it right. They don't give a damn about any of us. And 'you knew what this was when you signed up for it' is a pretty lame-ass cover."
"But it is true."
"I do not believe anyone asked for your opinion, Ganondorf." Zelda responded, her voice retaining an eerie calmness. "Today has been a taxing on everyone, and I ask that we all set aside our differences and not provoke one another during this time."
Ganondorf snarled, glaring at Zelda as she once again moved the children to a different source of comfort and stood. With a slight nod to the room, she began to take her leave. As the Mario brothers had done with Peach, Linked trailed closely behind.
"But it is true."
Link couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the words he spoke came out of his mouth before he'd even realized he'd thought of them.
"Zelda…" he mumbled. If she hadn't been accustomed to his quiet demeanor, she wouldn't have even heard him.
"Yes?"
"The Ocarina of Time." Zelda stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face Link. The stone hard determination in his eyes struck her like an arrow.
"What of it?" she asked softly, already knowing full well what the Hero was getting at.
The two stood in silence. They didn't need to continue the conversation.
"Are you positive that this is what you want to do? As I recall, you and Prince Marth have hardly even had any contact." Zelda asked. Link nodded. Smiling solemnly, Zelda responded. "Of course. It is in your very blood to right the wrongs of this world, I apologize for questioning you."
She shut her eyes and gestured for Link to continue following her. Once in her room, she removed the ocarina from its place of safekeeping and passed it into Link's hands. She seemed distant— her eyes full of something Link could not quite understand. "Please, take care of yourself. This is more perilous than you believe."
He brought the instrument to his lips.
→A↓→A↓