/Hello, there! To anyone who is reading this, I must truly thank you for taking the time to read my fan fiction. I plan to work very hard on this story (I have already worked hard on this first chapter), and I assure you that each chapter will be worth waiting for. I hope that you enjoy reading this story as much as I have fun typing it! Please stay with me through this entire journey. Enjoy! -Cosmic/

/Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story. All characters belong to their respected owners./

The grand Super Smash Brothers Tournament: a place where world renounced, best of the best competitors go to fight against each other for glory. It was a treacherous, intimidating place, a place that would only result in disappointment if a match did not work in your favor. There was only one victor in each match – one for each competition – the title of "Winner" having been earned by the best, and only the best.

A trophy and a title that only one could earn... Except for when that tournament called for two competitors working on the same team. A team battle, the only time when a title could be shared with another worthy warrior, for after all, they were there to help pull you through to the end, alongside you. Team championships could go both ways, as they could work to your favor, or work against you, especially when friendly fire was in play. Opponents could single out the weakest and rid them of the match before teaming up on the more powerful competitor – a time when the competition would work against you. But if the case were opposite to that, the matches could really work with you, ensuring your victory within minutes. Sometimes, competitors were lucky, and other times, they were incredibly skilled – too skilled to have an opponent touch them. They hung back and struck when they needed to strike, and that was enough to decipher a match.

Matches almost always start out with little to no sense, strategy having been thrown into the wind. But as the competition progresses, the opponents become ever so stronger, and recklessness is seldom forgiven. You need to play off of your teammate, understand them and put your faith in them if you wish to take home the gold, no matter what. Even if it means having to put your trust in someone you never thought you'd trust in the first place.

This is his story.

"Room... 3B." His voice was low and almost inaudible as he looked down at his key. Surprisingly heavy footsteps carried the tactician to the front of the room's door soon after, the golden number and letter shining before his chestnut colored eyes. "3B," he repeated, lips slightly moving beneath his hood. "Here it is." He reached his hand out and inserted the small key into the key hole, turning it to the right before pushing the door inwards. Stepping into the room, the white haired male switched the light on, shut the door behind him, and set down his several heavy duffel bags. The room's light was bright, though not so bright to the point where the young man would have to squint. It cast an orange glow across the medium sized room, and he was glad to know that he'd been provided with enough space for him to find comfort in the temporary sanctuary for the next upcoming weeks.

Heaving a sigh, the male removed his hood, then his cloak, and hung it at the nearest coat hanger. With his eyes now revealed, he surveyed the room with interest. There was a rather spacious bed, most probably queen sized, and two couches sat within the room. There was a large window leading to a balcony, and the restroom was found in the far corner of the room. There was no television – something the male was thankful for – and two lamps at each side of the bed. It was a warm and comfortable room, a room he would not mind turning into his study for quite some time. His eyes gave one last scan to the small living space before he took a seat on the nearest couch, flopping wearily with a thud. His head lolled back slowly, the back of his neck sinking into the curve of the only sound seat he'd had in days. His eyes closed for but a moment before they opened once more, his hand reaching up to look upon the official tag that the institution had given him. He read it silently.

Robin

He moved the name tag gently in his hand, only to toss it to his side the next second after.

"A name tag. How elementary," he murmured, snorting a moment after. "This is not kindergarten. This is a competition. One I never thought I would join, to be honest..." Robin found himself grimacing after the words. He was not one to challenge other persons so freely, so it was now, after he had been registered by his own hand, that he was questioning himself with: Why? Why did he do this to himself in the first place? A competition? A two-on-two competition? What if he were to be partnered with someone who lacked his level of skill? He should have come with a partner – no – he should have never come in the first place. Another sigh left him before a chortle followed, his head shaking in self pity. "What happened to thinking things through, Robin?" he muttered, his hand finding its way up to push through his white locks. How long it had been since he was gifted with the company of, well, anyone who could speak. He hadn't had a decent conversation – or meal – in a long time.

Now, being the bookworm shut-in that Robin was, he usually preferred keeping away from others, as it gave him a better opportunity to study and fill his mind with even more knowledge regarding the spells that lined the pages of his several tomes. But after having gone literally days without carrying a decent conversation with anyone around him, he felt a certain longing within his chest, something that was foreign to him in almost every sense. His eyes squinted, those brown hues hiding slightly behind lids that were seconds from blinking. Robin had gone straight to his room after receiving his tag and room key – he was exhausted, after all – but a curiosity had begun to well up within the pit of his gut, something he knew he would not, and could not, sleep on.

Allowing yet another sigh to escape his parted lips, Robin placed a hand on the back of his neck and stretched, snapping his neck as he moved his head from side to side. He wanted to rest up and keep away from anyone else that had already found their way into the massive estate that was the battlegrounds for the esteemed Smash Brothers Team Competition, but his mind would not allow him to rest easy. He had to explore the large establishment for at least ten minutes, just so that he could water down his excitement.

There was no denying the fact that Robin already wished for his early departure, but there was something about the atmosphere that drew him closer. It beckoned to him. It wanted him to stay, and he was not going to deny his instinct when it came to competition. He secretly enjoyed it, and he certainly enjoyed winning even more. To have those spectators cheer him on as he turned his head to see that he was the last man standing on the arena – tome in one hand and Levin sword in the other – why, it filled him with such a sense of self-pride and joy that he could practically bathe in it for months. It was such a rewarding feeling, one he could never put into words, and he only wanted more and more of it. Due to this feeling, Robin could only keep one thought in mind: he could not, and would not lose any match in this competition.

The white haired male hoisted himself up from the couch and looked to his right, then to his left. The soft, orange glow of the light was almost enough to put him to sleep, but now that he was hocked up with anticipation, he could only do one thing, and that was to explore the large place on his own. Maybe he could strike up a friendly conversation with someone, pull a bluff and mention how he was not all that good, and get the down low on his opponent's skills and move set. Robin knew full well that he was not the only talented fighter in the tournament. He would need to keep an eye out for a select few, for it was only smart of him to be wary around them, especially in battle. Robin sauntered over to his robe and pulled it on once more, cloaking his body with the thick fabric. Stuffing the key into his pocket, the tactician opened the door and stepped out into the hall. He turned his from left to right, scanning the empty corridor before he had begun to walk in silence. Robin swallowed thickly and pulled his hood over his head once more, keeping the lip of the hood away from his eyes this time. He wanted to at least study the competition and catch a glimpse of a competitor every so often.

After walking for several minutes, two at most, Robin found a hall leading to a grand hall, the area where everyone seemed to meet up. Ever so hesitant, the cloaked male slowly inched forward, those brown orbs dancing upon each head he saw. He studied them, some he did not recognize, and some he instantly identified. There was one male he had seen, one who caught his attention the moment his eyes fell upon him. There was no doubt about it. Robin pursed his lips in anticipation and suppressed a shudder that threatened to inform Robin of just how on edge he was. He could not deny that the man he was looking upon was an obvious threat to him.

The Hylian warrior clad in the iconic green tunic turned his attention to the left, in the direction where Robin was standing, and those striking blue optics met Robin's own. Robin felt the electricity of his competitive spirit coarse through him – there was no doubting the fact that he wanted to face Link with all that he had, but there was also that fear that sat deep within him, saying: Are you crazy? You cannot defeat him, Link, the hero of Hyrule. It was something he so desperately wanted to rid himself of. Robin pressed his lips into a thin line and held Link's gaze. He had been so enraptured with his petty staring contest that he had not even noticed that the Hylian hero himself had begun to walk towards him. The spell-caster stiffened and turned his head ever so slowly, for Link only drew nearer. It was only a matter of time before he stepped past Robin, his head turned slightly and his eye contact a new breed of intimidating. The warrior finally walked by, and Robin shot his gaze to the ground.

Link had just sized him up as a competitor. Robin felt his nerves try to stab at him, but he kept them down, and he refused to have them rise up once more. In all honesty, the male had only read about Link in ancient books, and heard about him in legend. Every time he heard of him, he felt both great respect and unwavering inferiority. He had hoped to meet him once in his life, though now that he had come across him, he felt as though he needed to step his game up, or let the elven-eared individual know who he was, and what he was capable of.

Quickly, Robin turned on his heel and stood with his back parallel to the wall, his head turned all the way to his left to catch the man before he disappeared or ventured beyond the point of earshot. "Hey!" Robin barked the word, and it managed to capture the Hylian's attention. Slowly, Link turned his head, then his body, and locked eyes with those chestnut hues once more. He stood there, curiosity suddenly gleaming in those sky blue orbs. "My name is Robin, and I look forward to facing you, Hero of Hyrule." He had absolutely no idea what he was saying, or why he chose to say it at that moment, but what was done was done, and he stood his ground.

Link's gaze did not waver, nor did his confidence, and if anything, the statement only seemed to humor the green hero. Robin caught the corners of Link's lips tug upwards, in what seemed to almost be a smile, and with that, he turned and continued on his way, eventually vanishing from Robin's sight. Not even one word had come from him, yet the intimidation ran deep within Robin's veins. Regret clouded his mind, and he wished he had never said what he said – for now Link knew who he was – but there was no way he could take back what he said. Robin could not turn back time. Accept your mistakes and live with them, that's what he would often tell himself, and so he faced forward and moved onward, hoping he would not run into anyone else.

Though the grand meeting hall had only been semi-full at first, within the span of a mere handful of minutes, the entire estate was bustling with competitors, all ready and eager to show their opponents what they were made of. Robin did not find this as unsettling as he thought it would be- in fact, after having confronted who he thought was to be his biggest threat, he found himself carrying a calmer mood and embracing the friendly, yet ironically hostile, atmosphere that was the Smash Brothers Tournament. Men and women were complimenting each other here and there, but Robin knew that behind each and every, "I hope you win," and "Good luck," they held a darker meaning behind those words. Everyone was ambitious, some so much so that they refused to share words with anyone who was not their teammate. The white haired individual watched these types carefully, studied their features and focused on their lip movements: they were discussing strategy plans with every given second that passed.

Some emanated the very essence of seriousness, like the all too infamous Koopa King with his small offspring by his side. Others seemed to be having fun, and they carried jolly expressions, something Robin liked to see. One of these fighters with a positive mood happened to be a young looking male with white wings jutting from his back. Whenever Robin would direct his attention to the auburn haired male, the angel would be wearing a smile on his face, even if it was just a faint one. That form of positivity was something the tactician respected, even if those smiles weren't real. What he also noticed was that the small male stood by a tall, green haired goddess. In fact, he never left her side. She was a beautiful, enchanting woman, with slender features that drew almost every eye to her. Clad in her white robes and golden armor, she surely looked to be a woman who had just descended from the clouds above. She seemed calm, cool and collected with the atmosphere, as if it did not bother her at all. He stood by and stared at the pair in obvious interest, wishing to know how their moves would play out for them in the competition.

He could not stare at them long, however, for they had turned and walked away, off to find their own rooms in which they would be staying. Robin pursed his lips and scanned the area once more, hoping he would lay his eyes upon someone he recognized. He stepped about cautiously at first, but after time, he grew confident, and strode across the hall, his head cocked back so that he could study the enchanting room.

The hall was enormous, with walls stretching high, high above their heads, so high that having to tilt your head back to catch a glimpse of the ceiling was something no one could ridicule. The walls and pillars shone a dark gold tint, hints of royal blue and several other subtle colors glittering across the hall. The windows were large and tall, wide enough for a dragon to come crashing through in a dramatic fashion. They were clear, all except for the very top of the windows, where a stain glass design sat, in order to let the others know that they were also something to be marveled at. The light of the setting sun spilled into the expanse, illuminating anyone who happened to pass through the warm rays. Robin found himself drawn to the light, and so he stepped towards it, finding a seat for himself on a couch that was all but bathing in the warmth of the sunlight.

Sigh

It was a heavy sigh, one that nearly rendered the tactician breathless. His hand reached up once more, his palm rubbing his face heavily. "Why am I here?" Still, he was questioning why he had entered such a competition in the first place. "I'd best win this blasted team championship title."

"We'll see about that."

Before Robin could react, he felt the couch shift, the weight of someone else's body settling down near him shocking the white haired male into silence. He turned his head quickly to the right and lay his eyes upon a familiar, blue haired figure, the man wearing a grin upon thin lips.

Robin's eyes widened in surprise, but he found himself laughing soon after, a thickly sleeved arm reaching out to slap the man on the shoulder. "You- by the gods, Ike," the tactician chortled, looking at him in awe. "You startled me."

"I can see," Ike answered a matter-of-factly, his head nodding slowly before he returned the same gesture – the force of his palm was a bit more than Robin was used to, and so he swayed slightly when Ike's hand slapped against his back. "I'm... Surprised to see you here, Robin," the warrior commented honestly, hesitance lining his words. "You don't seem like the kind of guy to...," he moved his hands in front of himself, gesturing as he attempted to conjure up some words that wouldn't seem offensive, "... Compete, head to head, with others, you know?"

"Spare me the sugar coating," Robin scoffed, his head jerking back along with the sound he made, "I know full well that I am not the kind of person who would compete in any form of competition. I am technical and I like to think up strategies. I lead armies into battle and succeed with very little casualties. I like to stay on the sidelines and watch from afar. I'd rather send men into battle than go in there myself."

"My point exactly." Ike turned his attention to Robin. "Why did you come?"

"Why should I not have come?" Robin retorted, a shrug of his shoulders displaying just how apathetic he was about the entire ordeal. "It seemed fun."

"That's a rather different twist on your definition of fun," Ike muttered, his hand flicking his own nose lightly. "Though I suppose I could picture you fighting by someone's side. They spring forward and attack while you hang back and charge up that wicked spell of yours. Thoron, was it?" This earned a quiet laugh from Robin, something Ike felt proud of himself for. "Speaking of partners rushing forward to attack... Where is yours? Who did you come with?"

Light brown hues flitted to the ground before they looked back up, and leaning forward, Robin knit his fingers together and parted his lips. Ike watched carefully, waiting for an answer, but instead, all he received was another shrug of the tactician's shoulders.

"You didn't come with one?"

"I didn't come with one," Robin echoed, turning his head to catch Ike's gaze. "Crazy, right?" He laughed silently.

"I don't think you're the real Robin," the blue haired mercenary murmured, all before smirking and shaking his head. "Coming here without a trusted teammate? No Lucina? No Chrom?"

Robin shook his head. "No one. I figured that you came here with Marth." He leaned against the couch and sighed. "He's quick and swift, and lands his attacks with precision and astonishing power... A perfect match for your heavy-handed attacks and, well, sluggish blows." Robin's lips curled as he watched Ike's reaction.

The man held a hand out, as if to lay down some rules, and defended with, "Heavy-handed, yes. Sluggish, no. I run faster than you, Robin." Ike snorted in laughter, picking up on the white haired male's taunts. "Try avoiding my 'sluggish' attacks while you're in the air. I'm sure my backhand will knock your lights out."

"Let's see you do that after you've suffered a blow from my Levin sword, legendary warrior," Robin snapped. They both shared a laugh, Ike nodding slowly in acknowledgement, but after the sound of their laughter died down, Ike inhaled slowly.

"Ah... In all seriousness, Robin... My teammate is not anyone you happen to know. He's a very worthy competitor. Very powerful. Very unpredictable."

"And what's his name?" Robin sat up straight, getting a better look at Ike's face, which glowed in the fading sunlight.

"Have you heard of a man named Shulk?" Ike's eyes caught Robin's own, just in time to notice the male's confusion. His brows furrowed in thought, and he ultimately looked away, at a loss for words when it came to identifying who this Shulk was. "I take you haven't heard of him, Robin."

"I haven't. My apologies." He grimaced, frustrated after learning that he did not know something that someone else did.

"Don't apologize to me, Know-it-All," Ike shot, his grin never wavering, "Apologize to him. He carries a legendary sword. I thought you'd know about him by now. You'll be meeting him soon, though. I just hope that they don't pit my partner and me against you and whoever your teammate is in the first couple of rounds... Don't want you losing so soon... I want you to get far, Robin." Ike's eyes stared on blankly, towards the windows that led to the outside world. "I have full confidence that, if by any ridiculous, unlikely, other-worldly chance that Shulk and I don't win this, you two will be the ones taking home to gold and the title of team champions." The blue haired warrior turned his head slightly. "If I lose, I'll be losing by your hand. By your Levin sword, and by your damnable, cunning strategies, you meddlesome creature."

To those words, Robin laughed loudly, and it was the first genuine laugh he had managed to release in the span of about a week. For once, it wasn't forced. It felt great. "Creature is a strong word," he squawked, his laughter still breaking his voice. "With your immense strength, I could say the same. But honestly... I thank you. I share the same consent. If I am not the one winning, you'd best be the one defeating me. I will be downright furious, but, not as furious if it's you." Robin admitted the words with reluctance, his words slow and cautious. "But don't bet on it, Man Who Wields a Two Handed Sword with Ease. I will win this."

"How long did it take for you to think that one up?" Ike stood from his seat and swiped at Robin, but the smaller of the two managed to avoid his heavy hand. "We'll see how it goes, Tactician. I'll see you tomorrow, at the auditorium. That's where they'll be announcing the teams and arranging the brackets. You probably already know that." The blue haired man looked off into the distance.

"I'm way ahead of you," Robin grunted, his head lolling back once more. "I will see you there, and I will be looking forward to meeting your teammate."

Ike bowed his head in one single nod and turned away slowly. "Likewise," was all he managed to say before he turned his back on his friend. "Rest easy." Those heavy footsteps soon carried Ike away, the sound of steel-toed boots clanking against the marble floor.

Robin inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, his chest falling at a gradual pace as he closed his eyes. As much as he liked Ike, he knew that he would have to square off with him at one point in the competition, and he certainly was not looking forward to that. With the sunlight fading more and more with each passing minute, Robin found himself standing from his seat, wishing that his friend had kept him company, for he desperately did not wish for himself to be left alone with his thoughts. The male huffed, maneuvered around the couch and started off towards his own room, ready to catch up on some rest for the day to come.

Shifting in bed noisily, Robin found himself hoisting his body up with much effort, the early morning drowse affecting him more than he thought it would. "Good gods," the male whispered to himself, one hand pushing his hair from his face, only for it to fall back over his exhausted features. It had been long since Robin actually had a chance to sleep in a bed that wasn't a couch or a stiff chair. The soft mattress threatened to keep him beneath the sheets, in hopes of lulling him back to sleep, but he knew that he needed to kick start the day, and lying in bed would get him nowhere. He needed to make his way to the auditorium in order to listen to the rules of the competition and have his new teammate be assigned to him.

The simple thought of having to put his trust into someone that he did not know at all only upset him, his stomach twisting into knots. "You brought this upon yourself, Robin," he murmured silently, kicking his legs out of bed and sluggishly making his way to the restroom to freshen up for the day.

With heavy footsteps, Robin made his way down the hall once more; having locked the door to his room and placing the keys within his pocket, he was now on his way to the auditorium, if only he could find it. He glanced around, those warm, brown hues of his trying to find a map or any sign that would lead him to the meeting grounds. Something, anything, could have helped him, but he found nothing. "The only time you want the hall to be full of people, and there isn't a soul to be seen," the male grumbled to himself, his lips twisting in dismay. He was hoping that he could follow the crowd, at the very least.

Running his hands over any poster he found on the walls, he eventually happened upon one that came of use to him. It gave the white haired individual directions on where to go and how to get to the destination he was looking for. It was a good thing he set out early, or he would have had to suffer the consequences of arriving late to such an important meeting amongst the competitors. Robin sped down the hallway, making sure he reached said auditorium in time. They were to meet at nine in the morning, and the cloaked male arrived at eight forty-five on the dot. Turning his head to look around, Robin found himself admiring the large room that was the auditorium, a place with rows upon rows of seats, a grand stage, and a ceiling stretching all the way to the top. The public gathering space was beautiful, with traces of gothic influence found here and there in the architecture. The spell-caster ran his hands over a stone wall before finding himself a place to stand, his arms folding before his chest as he waited patiently for what seemed to be an orientation to start.

The room was anything but silent as the bustling went on: men, women, and creatures alike found their way into and around the area, wondering if they should take a seat or not. Even if they were to sit, Robin remained standing in the front of the room, in an empty area right before the stage, large enough to maintain quite the amount of people. He was the only one there for what seemed like six minutes, before a familiar face once again made itself known. Through Robin's peripheral, he noticed the green tunic straight away and remained still, paying no mind to Link or his teammate, who was none other than the elusive Zelda. It was a team that Robin saw coming from a mile away.

Link kept his distance from anyone who was everyone except for the princess, for he did not wish to engage in any form of conversation. He stood there silently, not a word to be spoken, not an expression to be made. He was a strange man, short on words and usually carrying a stoic expression. He, of course, did not give off any bad or malignant vibe; Link was truly a hero in every sense, and was as righteous as he was powerful. Robin wanted to confront him once more, but held himself at bay; the last thing he wanted was to make a fool of himself in front of the man he so very respected. He should not have been so on edge in the first place. It made him feel ashamed of himself. While he stood there, worrying about Link in every way possible, the Hylian hero remained calm and expressionless. For all he knew, said warrior could have as much as forgotten all about him by then.

In absolute silence, the white haired tactician remained still as the space around him grew more packed with each second that slowly inched by. People crowded around him, finding their way by his side and around him, some standing in front, and some standing behind. Robin stuffed one hand into his pocket, his finger toying with the small slip of paper that had been handed to him the moment he registered the day before. Pulling the sheet from his coat, he looked down at the letters on it. They read: "Team F." Robin blinked down at the words quietly, the small slip of paper twisting between his index and middle finger. He watched it with yearning curiosity, wishing to know who also carried the same card that he held. His lips pressed into a thin line, and a sigh escaped through his nostrils.

"Don't look so serious," that recognizable voice spoke up once more, low and only for Robin to hear. The white haired male's attention snapped up and his hazel orbs caught Ike's own.

"Stop doing that," the hooded individual muttered, his hand pushing into his pocket before he pulled it out to have it rest at his side.

"Whoever you will be paired up with will do just fine. Just hope it isn't that dog with the duck on its back, yeah?" the mercenary grinned and cocked his head to the side, signaling to the Duckhunt dog in the far corner. Robin caught the creature's ear pull up in their direction and couldn't help but stifle a laugh. He had nothing else to say, or else the blasted canine would listen in on what they were saying.

Tilting his head in an agog fashion, Robin caught a glimpse of the blonde male that stood at Ike's side. Chestnut hues flitted all over the competitor's profile, taking in all the information he could before blue orbs scrolled to the side, in Robin's direction. The white haired male never looked away, thus foolishly having been captured staring by the man clad in red. It was only when Robin's gaze met Shulk's own that he parted his lips, hoping to say something, but having said nothing in the end. Both the mercenary and the Monado carrier snickered, Ike's hand rubbing his face in second degree embarrassment.

"Don't act so shocked now," Shulk greeted through laughter, his hand stretching out in Robin's direction. "I'm sure you've spoken to people before. You were doing so well just now with my partner here. The name is Shulk." The blonde smiled widely and wriggled his fingers, ocean blue optics darting to his hand and back to Robin's face. "Go on then."

Snapping from his stunned world of imagination, Robin returned to the embarrassing reality that was his life. He couldn't believe he had just made fool of himself in the presence of Ike's teammate. In hopes of swallowing his obvious humiliation, the white haired male's hand shot forward, and he clasped Shulk's hand in a strong handshake. The blonde only returned it with much enthusiasm.

"I am Robin. My apologies- for being so... Distant," Robin started, releasing Shulk's grasp. "I have a lot on my mind is all."

"Understandable," Shulk nodded and studied Robin's appearance. "I hear you don't have a teammate yet. Not very often that people come to a team competition without a teammate."

"I know." The tactician slightly turned his head away. "Not such a smart move on my part."

"Don't worry too much about it, Robin," Shulk commented, confidence lacing that English accent of his. "You'll be assigned an impressive partner, that I am sure of. It won't be fun, taking you down when you've got a partner who's easily defeated." The blonde raised his brows and cackled as Ike tapped his arm with his fist in approval to Shulk's smack talk. Robin could see why the both of them teamed up in the first place.

"Even if my partner does not live up to my standards, I am sure I can hold my own against the both of you." Adjusting his sleeves, Robin's lips curled. "Knowledge over power, boys."

Ike and Shulk chortled once more, their heads nodding in unison. They fell silent soon after, however, as an important figure found his way onto the stage before them. Robin also found himself saying nothing more as he glanced up at who seemed to be the announcer in front of the now packed room, but before the figure clad in black could speak, the white haired male caught faint words coming from Shulk's direction: "I like him." Robin's eyes slowly slid in the direction of his opponents', only to catch the sight of the blonde grinning, with his arms folded and his body leaning forward slightly, avoiding Ike so that his eyes could lay upon Robin. Without thinking, the spell caster felt the corner of his lips tug into a closed mouth smile before he faced forward again. Though he wouldn't admit it, the comment gave him a boost in confidence. He appreciated those words. He let them sink in during the short amount of time he had left, for the mysterious announcer garbed in black soon began to speak.

"You are all gathered here today to compete in the elite competition that is the Super Smash Brothers Team Tournament." His voice was booming, the figure standing having been a tall one, clad in a jet black trench coat, with powdered white gloves encasing his hands. His face was pale and carried the very essence of strict, and those eyes of his were... Strange. His irises constantly changed color, transforming from red to blue, blue to orange, and orange to green: every color that was in the spectrum, they could be found in his irises, and not one color remained for more than a second. They were mesmerizing, but malignant, and Robin found himself looking away.

"Many of you fighters may deem yourselves as powerful, skillful, and indestructible. Some of you might be right," the man continued to speak, scanning the crowd, "but only one team will come out on top. There will be no tied matches, there will be no making up, and there will be no sharing of the title between other teams. This is a competitive place, a place where you either bring all that you have, or you go home with your tail between your legs." Those multi-colored hues looked straight down at Ike, as if he were speaking straight to him. Robin turned his head to study his reaction, and as always, Ike stood his ground, never breaking eye contact with the speaker. "For the love of all that is good," the man continued, "Show no mercy."

Ike's face remained expressionless as the mysterious figure turned away. Shulk furrowed his brow in confusion.

With his footsteps clacking upon the stage, the man continued: "Blood will be shed, bones will be broken. You /will/ be healed, but the pain you will feel, I assure you, will be all too real for you to ignore. Will some of you come across near death experiences? If you are careless enough, then yes."

Robin clenched his jaw and shifted uncomfortably in place.

"Already, I am sensing some discomfort in the crowd." The man turned his head, taking a good look at the expanse of people in front of him. His hand reached up to push his white hair back, even though not a single strand of hair was out of place. "This is interesting." Whenever he stopped speaking, he would take a listen and indulge in the silence for several seconds at a time, the tension rising in the sea of competitors. "This competition...," he then turned to look straight at Robin, those ever changing optics locking with gentle brown ones, "will be very interesting. I can sense it... You." It was at that moment that the man had actually pointed his finger at Robin, singling out the heavily dressed participant from everyone else in the crowd.

Robin's brows knitted together, his jaw slacked, and he forced out the first word that came to mind.

"What?"

It was not the kind of 'what' where someone would question it in disbelief... No. It was the kind of 'what' that demanded an answer. The kind that a person would ask when they caught a stranger staring at them for too long a time.

The man in black kept his arm outstretched, his finger pointed straight at Robin for what seemed like forever before a wicked grin danced upon his features. He stood straight and wagged his finger in the tactician's direction. The mysterious man seemed seconds away from guffawing, but he never let so much as a chuckle escape his throat. He only stood there, finger continuously wagging in succession, until finally, his mouth opened. "I knew I was right about you... I knew I was right about you..." The man sounded so accomplished with himself. "It will be you and your partner... Who will make this competition what it is. I have my eye on you, Robin." And just like that, he balled his gloved hand into a fist and strode to the other side of the stage, moving on to explain the rules.

With wide eyes, Robin turned his head slowly in Ike's direction, and to his surprise, the blue haired swordsman was not the only one staring back at him, or Shulk – with his lips twisted to the side, bug-eyed – but the entire crowd to Robin's left had directed their attention to him, confused and either afraid of him, or for him. The male looked into Ike's eyes; with Ike having been the only person there that he knew, Robin found himself looking for answers from him, but happened upon none. "What was that all about?" he hissed beneath his breath.

"You're asking me," Ike responded, his voice but a whisper. "Whoever this man is, I don't want to get on his bad, or good side." His azure optics glanced upwards to lay upon the speaker once again, hoping he wouldn't fall victim to one of his strange mind games.

"The rules are simple," the man continued, his hands gesturing in a strange motion, "You are assigned a teammate, you have your teammate. You go into battle with said teammate. If you are in fear of death, jump off the ledge." He animated a person with one of his hands, the small being hopping off his other palm. "By doing this, you will save yourself momentarily. You come back, regenerated, for the time being, but not all of your wounds are healed. The more severely you're hurt, the less you will heal. If you happen to fall off while bruised and cut, then you will come back virtually perfect. Do I make myself clear?" He walked about the stage, catching a glimpse of everyone. "Knocking yourself out may be the only way to save yourself. But be warned, you go into battle with three stock, so choose wisely when you wish to throw yourself off, lest you wish to come off as a blaring disappointment to your partner." The man smiled with glee, the entire idea sounding like a trip to the candy store to him. His hands clapped together, and he then lifted them both to his lips, his eyebrows bouncing. "Oh, this will be fun," he felt the need to say, in front of the entire crowd.

"So to get things straight: there will be no surrendering. You either jump off, or you stay and you fight until you die. Your choice. You will lose that match and will be out of the competition within the first amount of rounds. It is only when we reach the top eight that you will be susceptible for a rematch, to try and reclaim your dignity. This, is of course, called the losers bracket. If any of you plan on losing, do it when you get so far. That is when this competition gets interesting. To those who are not serious – to those who are not willing to give it their all – back out now. Don't you dare waste my time." At that moment, the man seemed to have grown serious, the kind of seriousness he should have taken on the moment he set foot on the stage. "There will be several matches a day. We all know full well that living creatures need their sleep, right? A time to rest up? There is no use in abusing all of you to the point of exhaustion, is there? Then what fun would that be?" He looked off into the crowd, singling out a member that Robin could not lay his eyes on. "I'm not as cruel as you all may think I am... But I am cruel enough. Find your teammates and discuss a battle plan with them, spar with them, do whatever it is that you want. Just don't make a mockery out of my business."

He fell silent... Then started up again.

"I will be making announcements throughout the day. Listen good. If I call your team and you do not step up within the given time, you will be disqualified. If any of you have any questions, don't look for me. I won't answer them." His face remained as still as stone, his eyes void of compassion. "You may all call me Master Hand, and for those wondering if I have a brother, worry not... You will be meeting him soon enough." With that, he flicked his hand. "You are dismissed." He turned on his heel and walked off, vanishing before the eyes of many.

Robin stood, dumbfounded, as the crowd began to murmur around him, people turning left and right and facing their partners, fear painting itself onto their faces. The white haired male looked to his side and lay his eyes upon Link this time around. The man in the green attire returned his gaze and gave Robin a good, long stare, before turning away and making his way through the crowd. Still, Robin could not read his emotions or tell what he was feeling. Such a thing irked him to no end.

Pushing his hand into his pocket a second time, Robin listened to the clamor of voices around him. He wanted to deny what he was hearing, but it was obvious as to what everyone was saying. They were talking about him, glancing in his direction, studying him... Wondering just why Master had pointed him out, out of everyone else in the crowd. Flustered, his fingers fumbled in his pocket as they searched for the slip of paper, and once his fingers had wrapped around said sheet, he pulled it out and read over the letters in rapid succession. "Team F, Team F, Team F... Who's the other idiot who came here without a partner?" He looked up to find Ike and Shulk – thankfully, the two of them were still there, rooted to the ground. "How am I ever going to find this person?"

Shulk shifted his weight to one foot and glanced over the heads of many. "He should be in here somewhere. Shouldn't be too hard for you to find after everyone's scurried off to their rooms, yeah?"

"What if he runs off to his room as well?" Robin asked in doubt. "Then how will I find him?"

The blonde rubbed his mouth. "Let's hope he doesn't do that, then..."

A groan escaped Robin, his unease making itself obvious. He avoided eye contact with everyone in the auditorium and waited until the commotion died down. Most of the participants had already left the room, having gone to the common hall or to their own rooms to discuss battle strategies. Others hung back and found seats of their own in the rows of chairs presented far behind them. It was at this time that the male looked around, brown hues darting from one head to another. He ignored the ones who spoke in pairs, and singled out the ones who sat by their lonesome.

"What team are you two in?" Robin asked suddenly, his eyes keeping a constant look out for anyone interesting.

"None of your concern," Shulk answered before Ike could, as he aided Robin in his search. "You'll find out when you find out. But I can tell you this: our first match isn't today."

Hazelnut hues never looked in Shulk's direction. "Fair enough," he hummed, eyes squinting slightly. About five minutes later of standing and searching about aimlessly, Robin finally took one step forward, approaching the small pond of people that remained. Ike and Shulk followed, figuring they might as well help Robin find in finding his teammate. Cautiously approaching a person who sat alone, Robin lifted one hand in greeting and stood before her. She was a woman with soft, golden hair, her blue eyes rising to look up at him. She wore a royal pink dress and greeted him with a sweet smile, but after having heard his question, she had to shake her head in denial. With a dainty, white gloved hand, she lightly pressed her fingers to her chest and explained that she was waiting for her partner, who had to quickly run off to her room to retrieve something. Robin nodded in understanding, apologized for having caused her trouble, and continued on with the next person.

"A sweet thing, she was," Shulk commented as they moved on. "I wonder if she can do damage in battle."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Ike murmured, pointing to his head to refer to her crown. "You get hit by that and it hurts like hell."

Ignoring their conversation, Robin maneuvered through the seats to try and find another person, or thing, who sat alone. He found himself approaching yet another competitor, one who looked exactly like the small, winged boy he had seen the day before, but in black. Refraining from giving him a look of confusion, Robin asked the same question to him, and sadly received the same answer. He was waiting on someone else, a young boy in a red cap. It sounded like a strange combination, but then again, Robin wasn't one to talk. He had no idea who he would be paired up with, so he held his tongue in hopes that he would not be ridiculed when he found out who it was.

Excusing himself, the tactician slipped past the row of seats before him and moved on to one more person, a man who sat in the back of the room with his arms folded and his back straight. "That... Might be him," he whispered to himself, his head craning forward to get a better look. Ike puckered his lips in thought and shrugged one shoulder, chiming in with, "It could be." It only took that comment for Robin to dart onwards, hoping that his hunch was correct. He did not wish to seem too eager, but he could not hide the excitement that radiated off of him. He was finally going to learn who his teammate was, and he'd finally be eligible to fight. Approaching from behind him and standing in front of him, Robin looked down at the male who sat by himself, his company being the only thing that he needed. The white haired individual squinted, then inhaled quietly, his jaw unhinging as he studied that masked face. There was no, "Hello," or "How are you." There was only silence for the most part before Robin found it in himself to speak up.

"I fought you once." Those were the first words that came from Robin's mouth. Ike and Shulk both made a face, the two of them looking like Siamese twins.

Sitting ever so soundlessly, the man stared up at Robin and simpered. He wore a red helmet over his head, black shades covering his optics, with white, triangular shapes acting as his eyes. A yellow scarf sat around his neck, and his muscles showed through his navy blue suit. He was obviously built, an agile and swift competitor who was able to land swift yet powerful blows. Robin would know... He squared off with him once, after coming to Lucina's aid.

Robin squinted and gripped the sheet in his hand, the words "Team F" crushing in his palm. The man before him unfolded his arms and held a small card in his own hand as well, the words reading the same as the now destroyed sheet in Robin's hand. The spell caster was far from amused.

Standing from his seat, the muscular man towered over his white haired companion, his hand stretching out in hopes of formally greeting the male standing in front of him. Robin hesitated for a very long time, his eyes flitting from his yellow-gloved hand to the masked face that stared down at him. After quite some time, he ultimately reached his hand out as well, clasping the man's palm with strength. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, suppressing his astonishing amount of disappointment. Ike watched on without a sound, his chin held high as he watched his white haired friend go from friend to foe with one simple handshake. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes for a moment, then turned away and reached a hand out, patting Shulk on the shoulder to signal their silent departure. The blonde whirled his head around to look upon Ike, then lay his eyes on Robin once more before following Ike out of the auditorium.

There Robin and the mysterious male stood alone, their hands clasped together. Robin wished to say so many things to the man in his company, but he made sure to control himself; whatever he had to say to this man would have to remain bottled up until the competition was over. So instead, he took the professional route, and said only one word:

"Robin."

The taller of the two gave a strong shake of Robin's hand and nodded, his grin never fading.

"Captain Falcon."

/I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Reviews and creative input are always appreciated, and I will be sure to upload more chapters in the near future. Thank you for reading! -Cosmic/