Tracy had not seen Porky around lately. She was not concerned for his health or anything, but his disappearance unnerved her, like he was the monster waiting to jump out of her closet. Which had happened before.
Tracy couldn't help but ponder on the fate of Porky's younger brother, Picky. Maybe Porky was at Picky's funeral because Porky hit Picky too hard? The tongue twister melted her mind the more she thought about it. Tracy had not seen Picky around very much either, not at school, not outside, not even through his bedroom window!
...
Not that she constantly checked his window every day or anything like that...
Tracy could not sleep at all that night. She was too worried about her next door neighbor to even doze. So, Tracy got out of bed and stumbled through darkness her eyes could pierce to her dresser. She hooked the first thing she could find, a red dress, and slipped it on without even bothering to take off her pajama pants.
Tracy sneaked out of her bedroom door and down the stairs where she almost stepped on King, who was sleeping on the bottom step. She hopped over him and tiptoed toward the front door and jumped when her hand touched the doorknob and three loud gonging noises filled the house. Tracy shushed the clock on the wall and swiftly slipped through the door.
The cold, fresh, night air greeted her lungs and she breathed it in greedily. Tracy felt like she had been trapped in her house ever since her big brother left to save the world from her friend's big brother.
How would things play out in the end?
Tracy did not feel she had a very important role in the whole world-saving thing, except for her part-time job at the Escargo Express. But what did Picky have? No part-time job, nothing really except the role of the antagonist's little brother.
Tracy could never stop finding enough reasons to feel bad for Picky, wherever in the world he went.
Tracy walked by Picky's house and sighed. Usually the blinds would be closed, but the blinds to Picky's room were opened. What was his mom's name? Lardna? Lardna was never a nice mother. Especially not to Picky. For some reason, Lardna took a liking to her eldest son instead of her kindest son. Strange mother.
Tracy passed the house by and walked down a small slope. This was her usual path on her frequent night walks.
Tracy knew it could be dangerous in this area, with all the snakes, crows and runaway dogs, but they never seemed to mind her; in fact, the first time she went for a walk alone at night since Ness left she was tackled by a dog who licked her face instead of bit her. The dog tended to stay somewhere around the bushes, but she had yet to give it a nickname.
Tracy passed Lier X. Agerate's house but still didn't see her doggy companion anywhere. She would have heard the animal control if they came to get him because of insomnia and the sirens and flashing lights, so Tracy knew her doggy friend was still around.
Tracy walked as far away from the cliff the meteor had landed on as possible; who knew how much soil that thing could have shaken loose in its crash landing, enough to flatten an eleven year old girl, perhaps?
Tracy hiked up the steep hill that led to the meteor and the tree next to it. Tracy remembered that when Ness came home from investigating the meteor, he had spoken of a bee named Buzz Buzz from ten years in the future. Tracy had thought that Ness was crazy and had told him so, only to be scolded by her mother. Tracy loved hearing all about Ness' adventure on the phone, but even with the tales of Ness' adventures to occupy her mind she still worried about Picky.
Tracy sat down against the tree at the top of the hill's slope and stared up into the clear, night sky. The stars twinkled beautifully, like the power of the meteor behind her was fueling the stars' light.
Tracy saw two exceptionally bright stars above what appeared to be her house and Picky's house. Were the stars connected...? No. That wasn't possible. But still, Tracy had learned that the universe had strange ways of communicating, and technically stars were a part of the universe and is something many people think of when the word is brought up.
Tracy was starting to finally get drowsy after a good, long forty five minutes of stargazing, a new record if one was counting shortest time for Tracy to get to sleep recently. "Finally..." Tracy murmured. She would have fallen asleep right there, but she would never hear the end of it from her mom in the morning, so she stood up slowly so as to retain her drowsiness.
The wind suddenly picked up to extraordinary heights, like, could-sweep-a-ninety-pound-girl-off-her-feet-if-she-was-wearing-an-outfit-that-would-catch-easily hard wind.
Guess what? Tracy's dress was like a sail and she was eighty pounds and was standing. Tough luck, Tracy. Tracy was pressed toward the cliff by the wind, and try as she did to fight it, she was slowly being pushed toward the edge of the cliff, the churning, white-capped waters crashing against the bottom of the steep slope.
Tracy tried making herself smaller by pressing herself against the dry ground, but the wind was literally trying to lift her up. The few street lamps that were still aglow in town fizzled out, leaving Tracy with little to no light.
Tracy flipped over and dug her heels into the ground but only succeeded in tearing up the once nice lawn. Tracy grabbed everything she could to stop herself from sliding off the cliff, and she thought she had a chance if she just held on to a thistle until the wind died out, but no, the thistle just had to wrench itself from her hands and leave her to slide some number of feet down the cliff.
With her feet dangling below her, her arms reaching for anything and her heart racing, Tracy tried screaming for help, but even her voice was pushed back by the wind. Her hands were quickly slipping and soon she was hanging off the side of the cliff, eight fingers the only things keeping her from falling to the churning water below. Tracy screamed for help again, but she knew no one was near enough to hear her cries.
Just as Tracy was about to slip, her eyes closed in prayer thought futile, she felt two soft hands on top of hers and looked up from her prayers only to see a dark silhouette whose form blocked out some stars. Tracy could not tell who this person was, but they were about her height and had some not-so-strong arms as the stranger had immense trouble lifting Tracy up from the cliffside.
Even so, Tracy could feel herself being slowly being lifted from the cliff, millimeters at a time, which was a major improvement compared to what Tracy's condition was before. After what seemed like an hour, Tracy's foot finally reached solid ground and she noticed the wind had stopped blowing completely. Strange.
Tracy disregarded the still atmosphere as the stranger helped her get her other foot on the ground. "Are you okay?"
Tracy just hugged the hero and nodded into his shoulder, shaking like a leaf and trying not to cry from terror. She felt a gentle, comforting hand on her back rubbing light circles around her shoulder blades. "It's okay, you can cry if you need to."
The hero's words made Tracy's tears finally flow onto his black tee shirt, tears of terror and grief and worry and heartbreak. She had to stifle a sob many times, but the soft, thin arm around her helped her collect herself. One of the hero's hands reached up and wiped the tears from Tracy's face with careful, tentative, almost hesitant strokes.
This calmed Tracy down very quickly. She pulled away from her hero and wiped her eyes, although she still could not see him because the lights from the city had gone out because of the wind. "Thank you for saving me... If not for you, I'd be dead right now."
Tracy's hero looked down. "I couldn't just let you fall. I'm thankful I woke up and walked around the tree right then, or else I wouldn't have seen your fingers on the cliff. Your life is important to me." He sat down against the tree Tracy was doing so against earlier.
"Why would my life be important to you?"
Suddenly, the lights flicked back on in Onett and Tracy saw her hero's face. "Picky?!" Tracy had just been hugging the younger brother of her brother's enemy? Tracy was not sure how to feel, but she felt something she had a few times before swirling about in her heart, something that felt nice.
Picky looked confused and somewhat flustered. "You didn't know it was me?"
"W-Well, no, I didn't, but it didn't change how I think of you..." Tracy sat down beside Picky and felt herself blush and was immediately jealous of Picky's blonde hair covering most of his face, concealing his emotions- for the most part.
"And... How do you?"
Tracy's face turned a shade pinker as she stuttered, "As... As... Uh... I'm sorry, I've been so worried about you over the past few weeks! I didn't know where you went, if you were even still alive... I missed you so much, Picky!"
Seeing Tracy was on the verge of tears again, he quietly wondered to himself if that was how it felt to have a real family who worried and cared. 'If my family isn't going to properly care for me, I want at least want Tracy to feel wanted.' Picky reached over and held Tracy's hand in his own, squeezing it gently to give her reassurance. "I'm here now. Don't cry. I promise, if you need me, just call. I'll be there for you."
Picky missed Tracy's reaction to the contact because all the emotions Picky had been suppressing for years seemed to resurface when he said that, all those times Porky had beaten him up, Lardna and Aloysius yelling at him for no reason, being trapped within his own home, his own room, the fridge, even.
The memories added fuel to the fire and the theme remained; 'Why couldn't my family be more like Tracy? Why couldn't I have had a brother like Ness?'
Picky had to look away from Tracy and make it look like he was yawning and rubbing his eyes from drowsiness instead of crying. He apparently was not hiding it well as Tracy reached over and gently turned his head toward her with her finger.
"Picky... You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." She wiped a tear that escaped from his hidden eyes onto his cheek with her thumb. "It's not me who needs the most help, I worry for you every day, you know. You can come over to my house any time you need to get stuff off your mind. No one should have to go through what you do, especially not someone as innocent and kind as you are, Picky... I..."
Tracy trailed off, trying to disguise the start of her next sentence as a sigh. It seemed to work.
"Tracy, I've come to realize that with the world's animals and people being possessed, that we could be imprisoned or worse at a moment's notice. I want you to know that... You're the closest person to family I have, and that I couldn't be luckier to have you be my friend."
Tracy leaned over and hugged Picky. "Thank you. That means so much to me."
Picky leaned his head on Tracy's shoulder and delicately wrapped his arms around her waist, his breath tickling Tracy's neck. Both children knew that in a regular boy-girl relationship, hugs were rare and saved for special occasions, but both knew that this could possibly be the last time they saw each other. Every moment had to be special then.
They separated and looked into each others' eyes- technically hair for Tracy. "Hey, Picky?"
"Hm?"
"Why do you wear your hair like that?"
Picky's posture shifted to a slightly more tense position and he appeared to be surprised. "W-What do you mean? I've always worn my hair like this."
"I mean, why do you always keep it hung over your eyes? Is there something wrong with them?"
"I... Don't like how I look without my hair in my face. I think I look really dorky with my hair to the sides. You wouldn't like it, either..."
"Show me anyway. I don't think it's possible for someone so nice to be dorky, physically, mentally or anything else of the sort."
"Okay... Only because you're sure." Picky turned around and started messing with his blonde hair; parting it with his fingernails and whisking it to the sides, running his long, thin fingers through it.
"Finished." Picky slowly turned back around to face Tracy with eyes turned down.
Tracy was shocked at what she saw. It wasn't so much his forehead or his eyebrows, but his eyes... Picky's eyes were really shiny and mirror-like, and she could see the city lights reflected from them.
What really intrigued Tracy was the unique color.
Picky's eyes were very large and a very, very red shade of purple that suggested secrets and mystery, although his personality and behavior said otherwise. The only thing that marred his eyes was the sad, tired aura they gave off.
Not hearing any reaction, Picky slowly looked up and locked eyes with Tracy, who was trying to take in every detail of the face she hadn't known before, but could not wrench her gaze from his to do so.
"They're pretty bad, aren't they?" Picky looked down again as he began to fidget with the bottom of his shirt with the hand that wasn't holding Tracy's.
"No. They're the most beautiful pair of eyes I've ever seen. What made you think you look bad without the hair in the way?"
"Porky always teased me about them, saying things like, 'Why would a person have purple eyes? People should have everything BUT purple eyes! You should hide them so no one sees how strange you are.' I didn't believe him at first because he's Porky, but soon I started paying attention to everyone's eyes. They were either blue or green or brown. Not once did I ever find a person with purple eyes. So I hid mine."
Tracy felt bad for Picky. "Just because no one else has purple eyes doesn't mean you're strange! If more eyes as pretty as yours... You wouldn't be the Picky I've come to know. I think your eyes have a lot of potential in them, much more than anyone else. I believe that once we reach adulthood, you will be one of the most successful men in Onett, if not all of Eagleland!"
Picky looked up from his fidgeting. "You think so?"
Tracy nodded. "Of course I do! Awesome people retain their awesome and expand on it over age. Who knows how famous you'll be or how many fans you'll have. That is, if that's what you want..."
"I dunno, don't famous people usually get killed? I, personally, have always had a fear of being famous just to keep myself alive. And the fans? Being stalked doesn't sound like a good match for me."
"That makes a lot of sense, actually. I had never even thought about that... You're smart, Picky. What's your grade again? A plus?"
Picky chuckled for the first time in a few weeks. "Actually, ninety nine point nine percent overall. In my opinion, I still have a lot of work to do. I don't believe in A pluses unless the percentage is one hundred or more."
"So you've really built your grades up to high standards, haven't you? I've seen how fast you get done with math problems when you get up to turn the paper in... I usually have three quarters of the lesson left for homework! My mom once said that if 'blush' is a contraction of 'blood' and 'rush', and 'don't' is a contraction of 'do' and 'not,' then 'studying' is a contraction of 'student' and 'dying.'"
Picky ignored what she said about studying. "You just used a fraction! There's step one; application." Picky smiled at Tracy as it dawned on her that she used math to calculate how much homework she had per night.
"Okay, Math Guy, how many stars are in our line of view right now?"
Tracy and Picky turned their gazes to the sky, as if just staring at the sky would pierce the fabric of the universe; behind which the answer may lay.
"Hm, that's a good question. For me to figure that out, we would have to be away from any light source, the city lights, for example, then take our hemisphere and note all the constellations and any other miscellaneous-"
"Okay, okay, I see your point. Stars are for looking at, not counting, apparently." Tracy shrugged.
"Pencils are for writing, not throwing."
"Earrings are for wearing, not eating."
"Glasses are for wearing, not running."
"Pickies are to be treated kindly, not bullied." Tracy glanced at Picky out of the corner of her eye. He looked so pale and fragile; his many-sizes-too-big, hand-me-down black shirt did nothing to block out the cool night air, but somehow he didn't have goosebumps or even look cold, not to mention he was wearing shorts.
Tracy realized that Picky wasn't just pale; it was like he was always anticipating something, like how one's face drains of color when their angry parent says, "The principal called me today," or when one has just seen what they thought to be a ghost.
How did Picky live like that? It seemed like he was always on edge; never calm, always tense, like he was waiting for something. She wanted to tell him something; something that had been occupying a space in her mind for months; if not a few years.
Tracy, at her young age, was scared to try to tell him what she truly thought of him. But, after all those failed attempts at school, she knew tonight would be the night.
It had to be. No takes-backsies.
Tracy rubbed Picky's knuckles with her fingers and watched his eyes flick back and forth between stars and constellations. The stars were reflected in his eyes, glistening so perfectly as to be a separate universe altogether. Tracy almost forgot what she was going to tell him, she was so entranced.
"Picky..."
"Hm?" He turned toward her, and in the reflection of herself in his eyes, she saw every reason he would turn her down. Weak. Ugly. Dumb. She looked down at the base of their tree. The reflection was just too much. What if that was what Picky was really thinking, not just some sick mirage her mind came up with? She didn't want to think about that.
Tracy felt gallons of nervous jitters surging through her veins, staining her cheeks a rosy color she was aware Picky could see. She swallowed the lump in her throat, which only made it worse, so she took a deep breath as well as Picky's other hand.
Because of the lump in her throat, it took Tracy a minute to realize the words she was saying weren't heard by anyone. She cleared her throat and tried again, and her voice was weak and shaky.
"Picky... We've been n-neighbors now for a long time... And... I've seen you grow up over the years. You've become stronger against hurtful things, but I want to make sure you don't take this the wrong way. Picky, I... I... I..."
Tracy paused for a few moments, wondering why she couldn't advance in her sentence.
It was like the feeling a teenager had when they tried to read to their friend this awesome romance short-short they wrote, but could not continue because a strange feeling filled their head, making them only able to say the word they left off on.
A breeze started blowing with faint, whispery voices floating on it.
Tracy coughed and swallowed hard. This was much harder than reading about people saying this dreaded line. "P-Picky, I- I... I'vehadacrushonyouforsolongnowIjustcan'tstandnottellingyouIloveyouPickypleaselovemeback!"
Tracy closed her eyes and pressed her lips tightly together. Her blush burned her face an inch from physical pain, and she could swear all the blood in her body had drained into her face, the most obvious place for Picky to see her embarrassment. Why did she do that? She had just made the rest of their lives awkward at one mention of the other's name forever.
Tracy was met with a complete silence which she kept her eyes and mouth closed during. Why wasn't Picky saying anything? Was he mad? Was he embarrassed? Would he say something mean? Would he just abandon her right there on the cliffside where he saved her from death? Weak. Ugly. Dumb.
The breeze turned into a forceful gust in the time it took Picky to wipe away the single tear that had slipped out of Tracy's closed eyes.
"Tracy..." Picky gently squeezed both of Tracy's hands, bringing them just below shoulder level.
Tracy nervously opened her eyes and let her mouth relax, albeit the latter with a quiver, as she stared into Picky's eyes which sparkled with happiness.
"Tracy... I love you too." Picky cupped the right side of Tracy's face in his left hand and delivered a long, silent, sincere kiss to her other cheek, all the while her face continuing to heat up.
He pulled away slowly. "Ouch." Picky ran a finger over his lips. "Your face is really hot, Tracy." It took a few seconds for Picky to realize what he just said and his own face acquired a red tint.
"... Ah, tempurature-wise... B-But if that's something you... Like me saying... Um..." The blood roared in his ears, and he could have sworn a part of his right eye was visibly pulsing to the rapid beat of his heart; at least, it was visible to him.
Tracy was silent, though not on purpose. The kiss Picky had given her had rendered her speechless, even if the inside of her was rejoicing like a fangirl on caffeine, and the more Tracy listened to Picky stammer, the cuter he seemed to her. She cracked a small smile as the wind picked up again. She could literally feel Picky's pulse course through his fingers and wrists.
"Picky?"
Picky stopped trying to fix his mistake.
"... You talk too much." Tracy lightened her comment by leaning in and touching her and Picky's noses together. "... And... Thank you for the compliment."
Picky's pale face was getting a lot of pigment that night.
The wind suddenly started blowing with the same force as it was before Picky woke up from behind the tree, and Tracy's dress yet again caught the air. The wind separated her from Picky, whose clothing was either tucked in or clinging. "Picky!"
Tracy was literally in the air and about three feet from the cliff when Picky lunged forward and snagged her flailing wrist, falling face-first on the ground but successfully keeping Tracy from the cliff. The wind picked up again, and Picky struggled against it with Tracy to get to the tree.
The tree was just out of reach! Picky strained as hard as he could and finally grabbed the lowest branch. He pulled himself along it, almost forgetting to lower Tracy so she wouldn't get snagged by any branches.
The merciless wind increased, then both Picky and Tracy essentially were kites. Picky's scared words were almost lost in the howling wind, "Use this branch to get to the trunk!"
Picky strained the arm with Tracy's hand forward until she could reach back and grab the branch and shimmy backwards toward the tree trunk, then he pulled himself up onto the branch quickly, the ribbons of Tracy's dress licking his face. Picky practically leapt to the base of the branch in fright; wrapping his arms around it with his eyes courageously shut was the only thing on his mind as Tracy was caught between Picky and the tree.
Tracy had been saved by Picky twice that night. She wondered where in the world all the wind came from all of the sudden! It didn't seem natural for wind to go from still to horrendous in less than five minutes, three maximum.
Whatever the case, they would have to wait until the wind let up until Picky could stop supporting himself and Tracy on the branch via being a tree-hugger.
Tracy didn't know what else to do; she felt she was the damsel in distress that night, so she wrapped two arms around Picky and shut her eyes against a sudden leaf; Picky who returned the love Tracy had for him just before the windy assault.
The branches above them bent and shook like... Well, leaves. The branches seemed to be trying to work out their gymnastic routine, doing back-bends and multi-spin twirls and leaping from one point to another. Now imagine a caffeinated zombie or a fully-charged Clayman doing that.
The tree crackled dangerously but did not seem to be ready to break anytime soon.
Just as the wind seemed to die down after a few minutes, Picky lifted his head from Tracy's shoulder, glancing at her eyes shut tight and trying to tell her that he wouldn't let her fall. Tracy opened her eyes and nodded sheepishly, but just then the wind drastically changed direction, albeit with the same windspeed somehow, and Picky was blown into Tracy's face.
A few seconds after the wind blew Picky and Tracy into their awkward yet somewhat desired moment, both children heard voices yelling, even though no one within the range of Onett or Twoson were anywhere near awake. The voices were clearer than the whispers they had heard earlier; this time they could make out words and one of the voice's owners.
"I'm getting dizzy...!"
"Are you sure this is safe?"
"Of course I am! I have studied and trained my entire life to do this!"
"I wish I knew Teleport Beta..."
The last voice sounded strikingly similar to the voice of Tracy's brother, or so she thought with Picky being pressed tightly against her lips, filling her mind with heat and cobwebs and sending her heart throbbing rapidly.
If Tracy was blushing before, now she looked like her head was about to explode; minus the bloating, of course. Tracy's first impulse was to push Picky away, but since she didn't believe in cooties and the wind was too strong to move Picky's entire body any further away from her, she didn't bother.
For at least a minute and a half, the wind pressed Picky's lips against Tracy's and his shoulders and knees against hers. The wind molded his hair back into place over his eyes. Both knew exactly what was going on but didn't dare make it seem like it was wanted; just a mere coincidence. Not anything they would repeat any time soon.
She felt Picky's warm breath against her face a few times and thought about another phrase her mother often said as she became aware of the temperature of Picky's hands on her lower back; cold hands, warm heart. Freezing hands, warm breath?
Picky had a full view of Tracy's eyes up close. He could feel the tails of her dress licking at his back and occasionally his neck... Wait, what? But shouldn't the wind have pushed the dress against the tree? Picky decided with a cloudy mind that the tails were trapped against his back, not pushing against the wind to him.
The wind abruptly stopped and Picky flopped onto his back on the skinny branch, panting and still blushing. "If someone found out..."
Tracy didn't move. Her lips tingled. She used to think this kind of thing was gross, but now she knew why adults and teens Ness' age kissed.
... Kissed?! Her first (accidental) kiss was with the cute next door neighbor? Tracy didn't know what to think of that. Kissing was always something that sounded so ADULT to her, and for her at her age to do it with someone of equivalent age just sounded so wrong...
But she would not mind if it happened again, now that she knew why people did it.
She did not know what to say. She did not know what to do. She did not know whether to thank Picky or apologize to him. She did not know whether to pull Picky up and repeat the last few minutes or pretend it never happened. So she just sat and stared at him as he regained his breath, trying to decide what he would do next.
For Picky, that was possibly the most unexpected, most confusing thing that had ever happened to him. Why did his heart pound so insistently? Why was his breath stolen? Where did the wind come from? Was Tracy okay with him being her first...? Would she hate him and accuse him of doing it on purpose? If she did think he did it on purpose, would she find fault with him?
Picky couldn't think of anything to do or say, so he just laid there waiting out his blush and wondering if it was okay for himself to like the way it made him feel.
The two sat in a too-awkward silence for a long time, around five minutes. Finally, Tracy couldn't stand the quiet anymore. "... Are you o-okay?"
Picky didn't move but replied, "Yeah... Just a little..."
Tracy waited for a continuation.
"Exhilarated. I didn't... Y'know... S-Scare you away, did I?"
"Of course not. If anything... I feel more drawn to you than ever before." Tracy scooted closer to Picky as he sat up and looked at her with eyes again covered.
"Really?"
Tracy held Picky's hands. "Yes."
Picky lurched forward and hugged Tracy tightly, burying his face in her shoulder, his soft-spoken words barely audible, "I love you so much!"
Tracy hugged him back and kissed the top of his head. "I love you too."
"So what do you think we do now? Do we tell someone, or keep it secret, or...?"
Tracy hadn't thought about that, but she replied, "I think we should keep this our little secret, then maybe we wait until someone trustworthy figures it out for themselves."
Picky nodded and withdrew. "You are the nicest girl I've ever met, Tracy. I hope one day I can be as kind as you."
Tracy chuckled, "But that's not going to take much effort, is it?"
Picky smiled at Tracy warm-heartedly, then Tracy's eyes shifted to the area behind him. Following her gaze, Picky saw a meteor shower that took up half the sky.
Lacing and weaving within each other and sometimes even crashing into each other, Picky was somewhat saddened that no one else in Onett could see the meteor shower; never before, not even through his bedroom window, did he ever see this many specks of rock hurtling through Earth's atmosphere, never enough to cover at least half the night sky.
Now he finally had someone special to share a special time with, someone who understood him, someone who loved him, someone who supported him. What more could he want in a (girl)friend?
The two sat in silence: The aura of the fallen meteor behind them seemed to send radio signals to the falling stars up above.
What wonderful luck! The very night feelings were confessed, a barrage of eye-candy-like celestial wonders shone bright like snowflakes pushed by a breath.
The shooting stars ceased their movements after about thirty minutes, during which the couple silently sat side by side on the tree limb, hand in hand. One by one, the stars stopped their descent, fizzling out almost unnoticeably like birds swooping away from their flock to snag a fish, the rest continuing to move in uniformity.
Once the shooting stars did stop, however, the children continued to stargaze... That is, until Picky saw the moon.
"Tracy, it's almost MORNING!" Picky whisper-shouted.
Indeed, the moon was just about to kiss the horizon.
Picky got in a position to hop off the branch. "We'd better hurry home before-" he was cut off by the wind again, still rushing to the cliff. Tracy's dress began to flutter again, so she held fast to the tree.
The wind was incredibly strong this time, but it did not last one minute. One minute of panicking about if the tree was going to fall over. Even with Picky's grip around Tracy and the tree, both were scared, anticipating the worst.
Luckily, the wind died down, and just as Picky was about to remove his arms from around Tracy, he heard his name being called from below.
"Picky? Picky, why are you in a tree?" Ness walked around the trunk of the tree and saw Picky, but Tracy was still flattened against it so he did not see her right away.
"It's like, four-something in the morning! You should be getting ho- WHATTHEHECKWHATAREYOUDOINGWITHMYSISTERGETOUTOFTHETREENOWWHATISWRONGWITHYOU!"
Picky realized the situation he was in and hopped down quickly after removing his arms from around Tracy, only to flinch against Ness yelling at him.
"I knew you're his brother but I didn't expect you to go that low! You can mess with me, but not with Tracy. Understand?"
Where did Ness even come from?
Picky swallowed a rock as Tracy got off the branch herself, landing in front of Ness, who lunged and hugged her tightly. Tracy pushed away from him then noticed the three people standing behind Ness. She ignored them and told Ness about the crazy wind that night and how Picky had saved her life a few times, omitting of course all the romantic pieces for Picky's well-being.
"There was a wind just before you got here, bro. He was only holding me so I wouldn't fly off the cliff like the first time." Tracy finished. "How did you get here so fast, anyway? Last time you called you were in a foreign country, which was, like, this evening."
Ness replied less aggressively, "Poo teleported us here, and to a few other places too. He did use the Beta version... Which I heard was called the tornado teleport. Maybe that's where the winds came from? Poo? Can Teleport Beta do that?"
The last of the three people that came with Ness, an Asian boy with a long ponytail and a white gi, looked Ness in the eye, looking very annoyed. "I tried telling you, baka. But no, you just HAD to beg me to use tornado teleport without listening to the side effects first."
"Besides nausea?" The second person, a nerd with a British accent, blonde hair, thick glasses and a green uniform muttered quietly.
"Phht." Ness blew air through his teeth.
"Um, Ness? Are they the other Chosen Four you told me about? Who are they...?"
Ness looked behind himself at his friends then back to Picky and Tracy. "I haven't let you meet them, have I? This is Paula. She uses PSI, just like me, but she also has a mean frying pan," he gestured behind him as he rubbed what appeared to be a small lump on his head to the one girl in the group with a light pink dress and a red bow.
Her icy blue eyes seemed to flicker to fiery red, then to an electric yellow, a soothing green or pink, but her eyes were distinctly blue. "Hello. Paula Polestar, nice to meet you! You must be Tracy. Ness has told me all about you."
As Paula stepped forward to shake Tracy's hand, she couldn't help but look over her shoulder and see Ness blushing slightly.
"This is Jeff Andonuts. He likes to build various weapons and machines and is good with a gun. He claims to have a friend who-"
"You don't need to tell them about Tony!" Jeff interrupted with a shudder. He stepped forward and held out his hand for Tracy to shake, but she didn't accept it right away. "Hm? What's wrong?"
"My mom told me not to go near people who use guns on living stuff..." Tracy murmured nervously.
Jeff nodded with a look of understanding. "Of course. As every parent should."
Paula shook Picky's hand and commented on how adorable he was and how huggable he looked. Picky actually shook Jeff's hand.
"And this is Prince Poo of Ranma, Dalaam. He uses PSI and lives off water alone." Ness finished.
Poo silently approached Tracy and bowed. "Prince Poo. It is my pleasure to meet you, O hero's sister."
Poo bent and kissed the top of Tracy's hand, making Ness tap the prince's shoulder and withdraw his attention from Paula. Poo straightened up, taking note of the cultural differences and Ness's whisper in his ear.
"So you guys are really going to save the world? And you can teleport? What else can you do?" Picky stood next to Tracy and addressed the four teens.
"Well, I think Ness covered all of what we can do, but I've been working on a little trick that should impress you two." Paula answered.
"Can you show us?" Tracy asked with puppy dog eyes.
"Sure!" Paula summoned fire from her fingers and Tracy and Picky gasped just from that.
"Wait, hold on, I haven't started yet!" Paula laughed.
Paula encased each of the three balls of fire in ice that didn't melt or quench the fire within, then spun them around in midair, like psychic juggling. Paula performed several tricks with them, like throwing the icy fire way up high, then regaining control just before it hit the ground as if playing with a yo-yo.
As a finishing act, Paula tossed each ice-fire into the sky about thirty feet, then quickly crouched down with closed eyes, arms crossed over her chest with palms facing out and fingers in peace signs. As the three ice-fireballs came into sight, she snapped up facing them and random lightning that came out of nowhere struck the ice-fire, turning it into green and light pink snowflakes.
The snowflakes seemed to have restorative power, so Ness, Paula and Poo felt their health increase with their psychic power while Tracy, Picky and Jeff felt just their health become healthier.
The snowflakes fell on the group and Tracy and Picky stared at Paula, jaws dropped in wonder.
Tracy tried to speak, "That..."
Picky continued for her, "Was..."
Both started quietly applauding at the same time because it was the middle of the night, "Awesome!"
Paula curtsied in thanks as the two kids raved incessantly about her PSI.
Ness chuckled quietly to himself. "You might be able to expect more of this in the future."
"Why's that, Ness?" Tracy asked, suddenly curious on what her brother was so starry-eyed about.
"Oh, you'll see after we beat Giygas! We have to go now, though. We came to get a part of this meteor to bring to Jeff's-" Ness took a hint from the way Jeff was glaring at him and tried again, "-To our friend Dr. Andonuts. Our adventure doesn't have many more steps, and we'll all return home soon. I promise I'll fill you guys in on the details later, but the Mr. Saturns might be going to sleep soon! We have to go tonight to end the war. I'll be back for you."
Tracy tackled her brother in a hug. "Come back safely!"
Ness hugged Tracy back and stroked her head. "I will."
Tracy backed off after a few minutes and Ness, Paula, Jeff and Poo went to the meteor and picked up a nearby rock.
Picky and Tracy went over to the tree because they knew how nasty the teleportation winds were.
As Poo used Teleport Beta and the group swirled around and Picky pressed himself and Tracy against the tree, Ness waved goodbye to them, and at the last second shouted, "I'm sorry I doubted you, Picky!" Then Ness and the party were gone.
"They're gonna save the world!" Tracy whispered.
Picky smiled. "We should get going if we want to make it home before sunrise. I don't want to go, though. I want to stay with you, Tracy."
Tracy held Picky's hand and parted his hair to look into his eyes. "I'll always be with you right here." She placed a finger on his shirt above his heart. "And... I come out here at night really often. Just so you know."
Picky nodded at Tracy's promise and her contact, both of which made him feel nice. He looked off the hill and saw the sun's rays peeking up over the horizon. "We should go..."
And so, the trek back to the houses began; staying as far away from the cliff as possible, past Lier X. Agerate's house, down the slope past the bushes... The bushes rustled as they passed. Tracy stopped and peered into the shrubbery, and a pair of eyes stared back. "Doggy?"
A white dog with large eyes crept out of the bushes and laid down in front of Tracy as if asking to be pet. She spoke softly to the runaway dog, "I'm sorry, doggy. I have to get home before Mom starts worrying. Maybe tomorrow night?"
Tracy was about to continue walking, but Picky was staring at the dog intently. "Ruffini?"
"You know this dog?" Tracy asked incredulously.
"Of course! She was only the best dog ever. She's been missing for weeks!"
"She?"
"Yeah! I'll bet Ruffini still knows commands. Ruffini, home!" Picky commanded his found dog. Ruffini dashed towards Picky's house.
"All kinds of awesome's happening to you this morning!" Tracy remarked as she and Picky walked up the final slope.
Just before they got to the top of the incline, Picky stooped and collected a daisy which he put in Tracy's hair behind her ear.
"D'aaaw, thank you, Picky!" Tracy thanked.
"My pleasure. You look really pretty with that daisy in your hair."
"I'll bet it's because you touched it that it looks that pretty," complimented Tracy with a childlike lilt to her speech.
The path split into two roads leading to Picky's house and Tracy's house. They did not separate immediately, however, and ended up facing each other holding each other's hands.
"I guess this is goodbye until we wake up and go to school, then?" Tracy asked.
"Lardna actually pulled me out of school, saying that because I was such a smart aleck to her I didn't need any education. But... I've got some free time by the meteor after school or at night if you wanted to see me..."
Tracy kissed Picky's nose. "You can count on me being there. See you, then..."
Before Tracy left, Picky pressed his lips against her cheek as long as he could hold his breath. As he pulled back, Picky whispered, "Love you, Tracy."
Tracy fingered where he kissed her. "I love you too, Picky."
And so, the newly realized couple parted ways and went back to their own homes. Tracy barely remembered sneaking back upstairs and collapsing in her bed, sound asleep.