"WHAT IS YOUR WISH"

"For… to be returned to life"

"For… to be returned to him"

"OK

3..

2..

1..

Go!"

Meta Knight gazed out from his balcony perch, a forlorn air about him. It had been several months since Sword and Blade had departed on a journey, and he had to admit to feeling horribly lonely. And hurt at being left out, as childish as he found such a notion. They had every right to depart wherever they pleased without him breathing down their necks. He didn't blame them for wanting to leave, either. He'd fallen into an unfortunate mire of depression that he couldn't seem to shake. Despite the fact that they'd won, that Nightmare had been vanquished, he just wasn't…

Happy. When was the last time he'd felt true joy? The fall of Nightmare? It had been several years now. While that was nothing compared with his many-thousand year life-span, it was certainly a long time to go without any sort of happiness.

"Sir Meta Knight!" he very nearly drew his blade in surprise, before regaining his composure.

"Captain Doo? What is the matter?" he asked, sensing the urgency in the other man's voice.

"Th-There's a weird guy running around the village asking for you!" Meta's eyes widened. Somebody was searching for him.

"I'll investigate immediately. What did he look like?" Meta said. Doo squinted his one large eye, thinking.

"He uh, he had a mask and a cape sorta like you. And he was blond! I think…" he rambled. Meta resisted the urge to sigh at how unobservant the man was, and only nodded before darting off towards the village, brushing past the flustered captain.

He arrived promptly in the town square, approaching the crowd gathering near the center. Fumu caught sight of him, and ran over immediately. She had been honing her self-defense skills more and more since the war had ended, with his assistance and training. She had grown into such a strong young woman.

"Sir Meta Knight! This guy is looking for you!" she called out.

"Captain Doo already informed me-"

"He says he's a Star Warrior!" she added. Meta blinked, and strode towards the center of the crowd with more urgency, slipping between the gathered Cappies and leaving an indignant Fumu in his wake.

"Hey Meta! There you are!" an achingly familiar voice stopped him cold, and he looked up to see the source. For the first time in several centuries, Meta was at a complete loss for words. A tall man with unruly blond hair stood before him, clad in the distinctive style of armor worn by Star Warriors. His mask was held at his side, no doubt removed as to seem less threatening to the villagers. But the thing Meta was stuck on was the fact that he wasn't dead.

"Je…cra?" he sputtered, his voice an embarrassing squeak.

"Um, yeah… You, uh, alright there dude?" Jecra said, reaching out a hand and resting it on Meta's shoulder to steady him. Meta held a hand up.

"I am fine" he murmured, before promptly fainting. He vaguely felt like he was being carried as he slipped into complete unconsciousness.

"Hey, you're awake! Mornin', er, afternoon?" Meta's eyes snapped open, and he shot up glancing around before sighing. Dreams of his dear friend weren't entirely uncommon, and he rubbed at his eyes only to meet the glass of his visor. Had he slept in his helm? How unusual…

"I just… I thought I saw.." Meta caught sight of the man standing in front of him "…J-Jecra?!" he choked. He registered the texture of bark behind him, and surmised that he had been propped up against a tree. The gathered townspeople shifted nervously as he scanned the crowd briefly.

"Um, yeah. That is my name" Jecra said awkwardly. Meta fixed him in a familiar piercing gaze, before standing abruptly and seizing his arm.

"Come with me" Meta urged, pulling him along as they left the square at a pace just below a run. They left a gaping crowd in their wake, save for Fumu, who crossed her arms and frowned, deep in thought.

Meta didn't stop until the two men were bathed in the dappled shade of the forest. He released Jecra's arm, and stood silently.

"What the hell, Me-"He was silenced by a sudden and crushing embrace, and for a moment wondered who on earth could be hugging him. Certainly not Meta, who loathed any sort of physical interaction or affection. Meta would also never be caught crying, and yet he confirmed that the stoic warrior was indeed weeping openly on his shoulder, trembling like a leaf.

"You…y-you…" he sobbed.

"Woah! Hey, what the hell happened?! Meta?!" Jecra sputtered, holding the man at arm's length for a moment to check him for injury. Meta slid off his helm, allowing it to drop into the leaf-litter as he held an arm over his eyes, staunching the flow of tears. Jecra pulled at said arm, hesitating when Meta resisted. "Let me see your eyes! Did your head take a hit?" Meta shook his head almost imperceptibly.

"You died…" he whispered. Jecra frowned, his concern over head injuries now having tripled.

"Pretty sure I'm still kicking" Jecra assured him. Meta suddenly grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to kneel slightly to the shorter man's eye-level.

"It has been 458 years since your death, Jecra" Meta said. Jecra started at his serious tone, searching for any sign of mischief or confusion in the other's red-rimmed eyes. There was nothing but absolute focus.

"…what" he said flatly. Meta sighed, exhaustion creeping into his posture.

"There's much for you to learn, isn't there?" Meta said. He tilted his head in that way he did only when seriously deliberating a decision. "Take a seat, then. You will most likely not enjoy hearing what I have to say."

(Starting out kinda angsty, but this will be pretty much pure fluff for the most part)