A/N:Gah, I hate this thing now. When I uploaded it to the site in May, I was all like 'hey let's redo the crap-worth first draft because it's the end of the school year'. It's been almost 8 months, and now I hate this thing with a burning passion. Meh, I'm not going touch Kirby for long time. Maybe go write awesome historical Hetalia fanfics instead.
Mourning Flower: Tales of Remorse
(Kirby POV)
After swallowing the ninja star, I had sneaked past the oblivious Waddle Dees. They seemed innocent on the surface, and yet I had a feeling that they had seen more then I ever hoped to. Letting the shadows hide my childish face, I went in through the front door. I knew most people said that the bad guys don't use the front door, but I wasn't a bad guy, and it was much easier then climbing up the walls.
After several minutes of making my way through the labyrinth of passageways, I reached a dead end. Cursing softly under my breath, I retraced my steps until I was back at the front. Sighing, I shed my ninja ability and drew in breath until my body became inflated and lighter then air. Waving my stubby arms, I floated across until I reached her tower, then floated up until I reached her window.
Making sure my feet were planted, I exhaled my air in a small puff, letting the sturdy ledge take my full weight. Staring through the window, I noted the way the sheets moved up and down in rhythm with her breath. Testing a paw against the glass, it swung open on oiled hinges, making no sound to betray me. An insistent tugging settled over my chest, a monster called longing rearing against the chains I had bound it with, crying and whimpering for the love that could never be fulfilled. Moonlight streamed from behind me, creating sharp relief lines across every surface.
For a moment, I turned philosophical, quietly contemplating how much the world had changed in the five years since Nightmare's defeat. Had it really only been five years since I bought the universe's freedom? It seemed so short, but I attributed that to my incredible lifespan. Together, we were unstoppable team. That's when I realized that I could never tell her. She held onto life for such little time, and I had it for so long, we would be torn apart by the unbreakable laws set down at creation.
Without thinking, I set my cherry-colored feet on her floor and padded across the rug to her bedside. I knew I shouldn't be here, at least not at night, without the sun and her beside me. Stopping near her bedside, I looked over her features, careful not to let my sinful shadow fall across her perfect face. Her muscles were lax, making her seem younger then she really was. Almost as young as the time when I drove into the hill, seven years ago. We had all been naïve then, believing that people might actually fight for truth and justice, me being more entrapped in the pathetic values then she.
After Bun had disappeared on a hunting expedition three years before (presumed dead, as usually happened in a case like this), and Dedede had been killed by one of Escargons machines exploding, that's when the lines began cutting across her cheeks, under her eyes, an unconscious conduit of her stress, a plea to the world to end her nightmares. Grey streaked near her temples, results of the training she had to endure before she could take the throne. God, she was just past childhood.
I tipped my head up, blowing air towards the ceiling in a sigh. What would happen if she woke up, right now, I couldn't help but wonder. Ugly scenarios ran through my head like dirty water. If she woke up, then everything would fall apart. How could I explain being here, in the middle of the night, creeping around? She would, of course, disown me. How could I blame her? Then the gossip would spread, a string of words passed over a washtub, or fishing rod, or tankard of beer. They would grow uneasy, believing that she was not safe, would be weak in mind and spirit, finally culminating into a meeting, saying that this was all for the best, perhaps someone else should succeed instead of her.
Deciding that I couldn't let it pass, I turned around once again careful to not let my oblong shadow pass over her, alerting her to another presence in the room. My chest ached as the ugly beast called love tore and howled its sorrow, but I pressed my lips, trying to keep it contained. I began to understand why Meta Knight showed barely any emotion.
That was when I felt the hand gripping my shoulder. I tensed in a heartbeat, muscles trapped between staying and running. I prayed in was merely a wayward spirit, but then the hand pulled, and I knew I had to follow.
Green was the first thing I saw. The emerald green orbs that I had looked on so often, that were shining in the faint moonlight, brimming with untold emotion. Was it to much to hope? She hadn't screamed yet, so I decided to relax slightly. Something burst in my chest, and only a second after, I was lifting up the sheets and crawling under them. Her wonderfully soft hand reached up and stroked my cheek with only the barest of fingertips.
"If you're waiting for me to yell, I think you'll be very disappointed." She whispered. I took a hand in my paw.
"No, no. Take your time." I replied with a wry smile. She always did have a sense of humor, even if it took awhile to find.
"But I do wish to ask why you didn't bother telling me before."
"What do you mean?"
"Kirby, your in my room, in the middle of the night, without any good or worthwhile explanation. It's kind of obvious."
I don't know which one of us leaned forward first, only that within the next two seconds our lips had made contact. It was wonderus and glorius and a million other things besides. It was like Christmas and Halloween and birthdays all wrapped in a box and multiplied by ten. When we finally broke for air, I smiled.
"You're a great kisser," I heard Fumu's voice tickle my ear again.
"I know, love," Was the only thing I could say back.
And until dawn, neither of us had nightmares, cradled protectivly in each others arms.