(A/N: First time writing for yaoi/smashbros. pls no h8 3)
He knew a boy once.
He had silvery hair that layered gently over his head, contrasting sharply with the deep blue hue of his own.
To be completely honest, he doesn't remember how they met, but he knows it involved a chance meeting under a willow.
He knew a boy once.
His eyes shined with life and struck him silent on first sight, as if they glowed with some otherworldly energy.
If he concentrates, he can replay the memories of their meeting.
His mind focuses on what he remembers, the shade of the willow, the glow of his eyes, and the hair...it was soft, and smooth to the touch.
His name, what was his name?
Keep setting the stage.
He keeps focusing.
Slowly, in his mind's eye, a cool pond under the willow. They dangled their feet together in the pond one summer day.
More features are returning to him, he never wants to forget that person.
There were a lot of memories at that place, and they were almost all wonderful.
They met by chance. He thought he was alone in a small, hidden grove.
"Who are you?!"
They talked, warily at first, due to their blades, but easily and happily later on.
They had sat in the sand once and leaned against each other for support.
Then as they talked quietly, when they met at night (mostly for the cliché nature of meeting at night in a hidden place), they held hands, for the first time.
It felt like an unbreakable bond, stronger than any weapon, and the consequences would be just as severe.
There was a kiss. His lips were soft, but not as soft as his hair, which would occasionally tickle the side of his face when they leaned (calling it a cuddle never seemed appropriate).
"I love you."
He was caught trying to sneak out one night. He was forced to lead his father's brutal men to the area, where no doubt his lover would be waiting, unaware.
When they reached the grove, he saw the bright smile suddenly transform into horror as he saw the soldiers and then longing as he was dragged away.
He especially remembers how his father beat him brutally, confronting him the following night, where he was locked in his chambers.
He rose to address the king properly and was promptly backhanded across the face, collapsing due to the power of the iron-clad blow. There were brutal kicks and it felt like his body burned with each strike.
He only saw the silver haired boy once after. He fought bitterly with Falchion, merely blocking and countering each blow the soldiers attempted. They had been sent to escort him to the public hangings he was to attend, supposedly killing his lover on account of treason.
The fight within the palace walls raged on for what felt like hours, yet was only a quarter of a single hour. Nobody could understand, none of them would have to attend the execution of their soul mate.
(Gender didn't matter to him, it did at first, but as time went on he didn't care. Love was love.)
He sat at his father's right side, still bandaged and healing from the vicious wounds the king beat in.
He watched with an apathetic expression, yet as they called his lover's name to be killed, they met eyes for a split moment. Beautiful, glowing eyes, as if trying to say, It's okay, I'll still love you. Forever.
Forever.
He closed his eyes discreetly, he could sense his father's eyes trying to detect his son turning away.
He refused to look at his death, but he would never stop seeing those eyes.
Now he leans against a different willow tree. It's not the same, but if he puts his side to the root it feels similar enough to fill him with bittersweet memories and nostalgia.
He takes out a small pocketknife and carves a heart into the tree. Nothing more, nothing less.
He touches the outline of the heart and thinks: Forever, Shulk.
The wind whispers through the air, and as if his memories taunt him, he can almost hear him laugh.