IMPORTANT DISCLAIMERS, THEN IMPORTANT A/N. ACTUALLY, YOU SHOULD JUST ALWAYS READ THE A/N'S. THEY HAVE IMPORTANT STUFF. BUT READ THESE DISCLAIMERS FIRST.

1) CONCERNING MENTAL ILLNESS: So a major focus of this story is mental illness. Being a romcom (lol), they will sometimes have comedic effect on the story. THIS IS NOT TO MAKE A JOKE OF OBESSIVE COMPULSIVE, AUTISTIC SPECTRUM DISORDERS, OR ANYTHING ELSE THAT WILL BE FEATURED. MENTAL ILLNESS IS A REAL AND SERIOUS ISSUE. Also, these disorders manifest themselves in a variety of ways, and this is the particular case of one Robin Burnell. If you feel I'm not representing something accurately, please respectfully enlighten me in the comments or PM me.

2) CONCERNING MY INSPIRATION: If you are a fan of the novel The Rosie Project, sorry, this has nothing to do with it. I basically just saw the description and this story idea popped up. It is inspired by it, but is not based off of it. I have yet to read is and probably will after I finish this story. Characters, plot, everything will be different. Cheers!

And guess what?! I don't own Nintendo or the Rosie Project. Bummer.

Never did I think I'd be writing a romance, but this is also a tale of friendship, internal struggles, mental illness, willpower and helping oneself, expectations and empowerment, insert more cliché. I hope our main pair grows on you. Let us follow poor inept Robin's adventure as this dumb crush causes so much trouble. Here is the first (kinda long) chapter of The Rosalina Project.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, skip this step, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, he was up the stairs.

One, two, three, four, five, six footsteps, he was at his door.

Robin Burnell took out his keys with a heavy sigh, inserting them into the lock. It had been an exhausting day, and all he wanted to do was retreat into the controlled safety of his home. He walked into his apartment, hanging his keys on their specified hook just inside the doorway. A voice called from the room down the hall, catching him off guard. "Robin, is that you?"

"Y-yes!" he called back. He turned and entered the sitting room where his best friend sat on the couch, watching television. Lucina was staying at his residence for the time being while she tried to secure a home for herself. She'd always had rather bad luck with getting a house. Sudden changes in plans, landlords, and freak weather incidents had kept her out of a permanent home for a couple months now. While it was difficult for her and her career, they kept in fairly good spirits about it, her unfortunate luck becoming a bit of a running joke.

"You're back early," speculated Robin as casually as possible.

"The meeting ended early," Lucina responded. "A couple people had places to be, and we realized there wasn't much we could accomplish without them." She said this with distaste, as though annoyed that these people apparently had more important things to do. "The whole thing was a disaster anyway. Nimble-fingered Lissa spilled tea all over Link…and I think that was the highlight of the meeting." The two laughed, but then Lucina became serious again, narrowing her intelligent eyes. "And why are you back early? I thought you said you'd be home at nine."

Robin just gazed at his feet at the dreaded question, shuffling around like a child who knows they're about to be scolded. Lucina could have that effect sometimes. "Well, I…left."

"Robin!" Lucina reproved him in frustrated tones. "You promised you would not bail early this time!"

"It was for the best. It wasn't going to work out."

"How many times must I remind you, it's just the first date! What was wrong with her this time?"

"She was too sporadic, and her voice was much too loud…"

"And?" Lucina knew him very well.

"…her hair was asymmetrical," admitted Robin. Lucina gave a long sigh out her nose. "It was really bad this time!" Robin defended himself. "I had to look at it the whole time. If you had to deal with it, you would have left too. She was intimidating." It had been simply impossible to stand, scratching and grating at the inside of his skull at the very reminder of the abomination that was her hair. The combination of that and the feeling that their personalities clashed awkwardly seemed to slowly suffocate him until he just stood up and left the restaurant in a state of complete panic, telling the already baffled woman that he had to "go do a thing with some people". He then proceeded to stand on a street corner a few blocks away, panting and counting each breath as passersby gave him strange looks. He was more than ready to immediately put the overwhelming experience behind him, and hoped he never had to cross paths with that woman again.

Thinking back on it, she was probably rather pissed.

"Robin, you have to learn to handle it," Lucina insisted yet again. "If you are serious about your relations with people, you need to let those things go. I still believe that you should think about talking to Luke, even just once. Just try. He's good at what he does."

Dr. Lucario Arveda was a friend of Lucina's, and he was also an occupational therapist. Robin knew that Lucina was just concerned about him, but he didn't want to have to go through any that. It seemed like a waste of time like that would serve only to detract from his busy job. He didn't feel that any of his concerns warranted foolish counseling of any kind. On top of that, he felt almost…afraid? Afraid of the change, perhaps, as though he were letting go of something that was deeply a part of him. Additionally, Lucario was intimidating and Robin had little desire to interact with him, thus leading him to conclude there would be no net gain from any such "sessions".

"Lucina, it's fine," responded Robin mechanically, the same way he always did. "It is not a big deal, I can handle it." He was an adult, a scientist at that; he could solve his own problems. He did not need to be treated like a child.

Lucina looked irritated for a moment more, but she then just sighed and shook her head. "What are we going to do with you?" she asked rhetorically. Robin gave a wan smile and a shrug, but he wondered if Lucina knew how often he asked himself that very question. Looking at it objectively, he was getting on well enough, with a home, a job he loved, but at the same time…

Now that he had finished conversing, he became aware of the familiar tug that seemed to come from both his head and his gut, filling him with tension. His feet spun around and prepared to head back for the door, almost on their own accord, as his mind was preoccupied by wondering if he had-

"Yes, I'm sure you locked it," Lucina said sharply, interrupting him. "I heard you do it. Come back in here, Jeopardy's on now."

Robin wasn't so sure, but Lucina's voice was a command. Why did she have to be so good at commanding? He forced himself to turn and walk away from the doorway, instead shuffling back and gazing out the window that bathed his face in orange city light.

"Aren't you going to sit with me?" questioned Lucina. Robin shook his head blandly. His housemate frowned, but did not question further. If he did not want to watch Jeopardy, then he must really be upset. And that he was; freaking out in public always made him feel ashamed, sick, unclean, like he was some kind of strange and wild specimen occupying his own little world that people on the outside looked upon with nonunderstanding. Feelings of shame, however, only seemed to feed his behavior. He often tried to formulate plans, hypotheses, solutions in his head, but there was nothing to measure besides the counting of his own steps, his own breath, no logic to unravel. Maybe if he could just-

Knock knock knock.

Robin nearly leapt out of his skin at the rapping on the door. He jumped even harder when, before he could even move toward it, the door was opened straight up by the visitor who didn't even wait to be answered and who sang in a slightly raspy voice, "Hello!"

Robin's brain recognized the voice after a second, and made sure to shut down the heart attack that he was about to have. He let out a gigantic breath, remembering the appointment he had made, and strode to the door to greet the electrician.

Pikachu had the appearance of one who had their finger perpetually stuck in a socket. His fluffy blond hair stuck out oddly in many places, and he moved in a rather twitchy manner. His cheeks were rosy and childlike, and his slightly sleepy eyes had a small twinkle in their dark recesses. Despite his child's face, he walked like there was something weighing on his shoulders, like an older man might. Robin was not entirely sure of Pikachu's age, but it had to be somewhere in his early twenties. His hands were very hyperactive; if not working, he was almost always messing with something in his fingers. Today, he was fiddling with a spare spring from who-knows-where in one hand while the other still gripped the doorknob of the open door. Robin always had a hard time not looking at his hands.

"…Come in," Robin muttered, more as a formality seeing as Pikachu was already pretty much in the apartment.

"You've forgotten I was coming, didn't ya?" guessed Pikachu, his eyes glittering playfully.

"Yes," sighed Robin with resignation. "I'll show you where the problem is."

"Right-o, Robbie," agreed Pikachu, following him into the kitchen. Under normal circumstances, Robin would threaten to expel whoever called him "Robbie" from whatever establishment they were residing in, but Pikachu somehow managed to get away with it. Robin couldn't determine if he would even react to any threat or order given to him anyway.

Robin led him into the dark kitchen, which was lit only by a flickering candle on the counter, and explained the problem with his light, giving a wry smile as Pikachu laughed about his attempt to fix it himself. While Pikachu was examining the light switch, Robin quickly slid out of the kitchen to where Lucina was pacing, now talking on her phone.

"You told me the door was locked," he hissed quietly. He was more irritated at the untruth than anything.

Lucina stopped walking. "Sorry, Pal, hold on a moment…" She turned to Robin. "Yes I did, because I knew Pikachu was coming, and you need some exposure. You can't always be checking the door, you are going to wear your feet off. You're just in a jumpy mood because of the date."

Robin yelped indignantly. "I don't need- !" Lucina gave him a serious look, stuck one finger into her ear to block him out and moved into the bedroom. She closed the door behind her to carry on her conversation, leaving a huffing Robin with Pikachu and the busted light fixture.

"So, you were on a date, were ya?" asked Pikachu as he opened his tool bag, his eyebrows wiggling as he stole a glance up at the scientist. Robin shrugged. "By the loosest definition, yes." He was slightly irritated that these people were so keen on the subject. Couldn't they see he was trying to consciously block the event from his memory? Of course not.

"Didn't go so well, did it?" said Pikachu knowledgably. "Ah well. Happens to all of us…but I sure hope it doesn't happen to me tomorrow." His voice took up a confidential tone as he leaned in towards Robin. "I got one myself, see."

"Oh, really? With whom?" Again, Robin was not really in the mood to discuss dates, but he was not rude enough to shut Pikachu down when he seemed so excited about this advancement.

"Really nice girl who works in that music store down the street," the electrician informed sheepishly. "'Name's Jigglypuff."

Robin smiled distractedly at him as he rummaged for a wrench in his bag. "Let's see…three eighths…one half, no…thirteen sixteenths?" Robin nearly choked on his own saliva as Pikachu pulled the wrench out of his bag and surveyed it. He was overwhelmed with the urge to knock the accursed tool right out of the blonde's hand, or else suffer unknowable concequences. But what had he said to Lucina? It is not a big deal. I can handle it. He was fully capable of solving this alone. Use what he knew, and disown the notion with fact. This wrench is no more dangerous than any of the other wrenches just because it has thirteen in the name. It's just a number. I just… But he couldn't make himself believe words that felt so empty. To his dismay, he was already enveloped by the whirlwind of breathless and sickly fear.

Just as he was surely about to go berserk and either send the wrench into the wall or run out of the building (or perhaps, preferably, both), Pikachu observed the fixture and concluded, "No, not this one…" He placed it back in the bag. Robin let out a breath of relief, but he kept his guard up; he wouldn't feel at ease until that bag was out of his apartment (really, he was ashamed of himself for being concerned with anything so ungrounded in logic, but could not help feeling like he needed to acknowledge the thoughts anyway, as though if he didn't they'd come back around and bite him. It really was quite tiring feeling ashamed).

In the meantime, Pikachu had found the right sized wrench and taken the panel off the wall, revealing a patch of wires and clips inside. He poked around for a bit. Robin watched his hands. Pikachu's brow furrowed. "Dang, what in the name of the lord did ya do back here? Rob, you are one smart fella, but you can't fix a light for crap. Do us a favor next time, and just call us first." He muttered and moved some stuff around in the wall for a few minutes. During this time, Robin made himself some tea with tense hands, keeping one eye on the tool bag containing the wrench, and by the time he finished preparing it Pikachu had gotten to the problem.

"Ah, here we go." The electrician got out some clippers and snipped off a wire with a clip attached to the end, pulling it out of the mess. "See, this one ain't compatible, not the same type of wire as the rest…"

Pikachu rummaged a bit more in his bag, getting out a length of wire and a new clip to replace the old one. Robin flicked the light switch up and down a couple times, showing that the light went on and off without any of the previous zapping and crackling it had before it busted. Satisfied, Pikachu scribbled the name of the metal and the thickness of the operational wire and stuck it to Robin's refrigerator ("in case you decide to ignore me and try to fix stuff up yourself again"). He tossed the old wire into the trash and Robin paid him for his help. As Pikachu headed for the door, Robin called to him, "Good luck with Jigglypuff!"

Pikachu's already rosy cheeks went even redder. "Thanks, Rob." He then departed, practically chirping. Robin remained sitting in the kitchen, gazing at the old discarded wire in the trash bin, lost in thought as Alex Trebeck announced a Daily Double in the next room. Pikachu was younger than him. He seemed to have found himself a partner that he was genuinely excited to see. Lots of people he knew had partners, actually. Truly, they made it look incredibly easy, miraculously bumping up against their perfect match, a soul mate, the person who would love them no matter what and always stay and never walk away because their hair is asymmetrical or because they're hopelessly out of their mind.

Perhaps he was like that wire. It wasn't compatible with any of the rest in the wall, no matter what you did to it. Was it possible for someone to be incapable of finding love? Well, scientifically speaking, there was no reason why not. "Love" was not measurable; there was nothing to say that he wasn't just born hard-wired in a way that didn't accommodate it. If that were the case, it would therefore be entirely illogical to continue to waste his energy trying to obtain what everybody else had easily found. He didn't like to deal with the unmeasurable.

Robin blew out the candle, its purpose being fulfilled, and stood up from the table. He took his mug with him and placed it into the microwave. It had sat too long and lost its warmth while he thought to himself. No one likes a cold cup of tea.

So this chapter was a bit intense and obsessive-compulsive heavy. But I know I've had stressful nights like these where every urge and worry and impulse just comes flailing out and screaming. So thus far we can see our dear Robin has some of your standard counting and checking issues, and a problem with the number 13, which is surprisingly common. Poor little guy is heartbroken and stressed out. :( Then Lucina's just gotta live with his attempt to control all scary things. Pikachu's just there, bein' Pikachu.

Tell me what you thought of this one, and next time we'll get to see Robin and what he sees as his only love: his job as a geneticist! And we'll see his...interesting coworkers Shulk and Yoshi. Thanks for making it this far down the page. Your face is beautiful! See you soon...?