Kirby stood outside his house and looked up at the stars.
The stars were so beautiful tonight. There were many more of them than there usually were; so many that he could see. Some were different colors—red, yellow, sparkly-bluish—
…
…
What were those stars? Were they planets? Somebody's home, far away? Popstar was supposed to be the brightest star in the universe—well, at least, his galaxy. It was a beacon of light for all those who felt lost. It was the signal light for those who needed a refuge. Kirby was proud to fight for it. Without his home, he would be lost. He would have no home. His birth planet was destroyed…he wondered what it looked like as a star. His gaze was brought back to the night sky, the stars glittering like jewels on a velvety surface. The hotter the star, the brighter it would burn…Kirby didn't want his planet to look reddish or yellowish because any star got old and cooled eventually. But he didn't want it to burn and spark like Popstar…then it would feel like Popstar, not his lost home planet. There weren't many green or purple stars; he wasn't sure he liked those colors for a star's color anyway. What color would he pick…?
Blue! His eyes flashed, and the stars inside them sparked. He wanted it to be blue, like his eye color and soul color. Blue was a happy color. Blue was the sky's color. Blue was the color of water, something that could take on any form. Kirby liked blue for all of those reasons and then some, so he hoped that his planet had been bluish with a spark of white in it as well. That would be a nice color for his planet. Now where would it be in this great sky?
Kirby's eyes searched it critically. Upon looking, he could find no place it would fit particularly well—there were lots of open, crowded, or just-right spaces in this night sky. It pained him to know that he wasn't even looking at the big picture—this was a mere fraction of the night sky; what he could see now would change every month and every season. It would change when he looked at it from another place, as well. When he was away from his home on an adventure, wouldn't he want to be able to look up at his planet, and be reminded that he could return home soon? But when he was at home, hadn't he wanted to look up and see where his planet was, and imagine what it was like?
Kirby looked down for a brief moment to ponder that. Which would be better for him? He loved to wander, but he couldn't deny that being home was wonderfully soothing to him. He didn't wander too far unless it was on adventures, either. Which would be better—to see your comfort only to keep you going on adventures, or to be able to look outside your house every night and know that you could see it there in your darkest hour?
Perhaps it was best left undecided; perhaps his home star still existed somewhere. Kirby didn't want to imagine it as something it was not. Instead, he turned his focus back to the sky. Stars littered the sky like shells on a beach, in no particular arrangement, but imperfectly perfect nevertheless. The night was cloudless, the breeze was cool, refreshing, and occasional, and the crickets were the only background noise. Nothing was out…he had the night to himself to look up at the stars.
He was called a star, you know. It wasn't just because of the stars that blinked in his eyes occasionally. Was it because he was partially a black hole—no, a black hole was a collapsed star, and he didn't want to think of his life as someone else's death. It was because his heart, his very spirit, was shaped like a star. The cool breeze that wove around his body and tickled his cheeks made the star inside him spark a little more, and a small smile crossed his lips. The night was perfect. If he could live like this for the rest of his life, he didn't think he would ever have the time to be sad because he would be too busy thinking about happy things like he was tonight.
If there was no darkness in the world…no evil…he would be a lot happier, right? He wouldn't have to fight and risk his life defending something that should not have been attacked in the first place. Light always pierces through the darkness, correct?
But no. Just because things went wrong…just because there was darkness in the world…it didn't mean that it had no place. Hardships improved people's lives and strengths. It turned people into better people. Kirby was willing to work to become a better person, to keep improving and helping people when no-one else would. Besides, nothing was promised to be easy. In the end, each creature decides their own fate.
Kirby stared back up at the stars. There were so few of them compared to the dark sky that represented outer space…but if there were only stars filling the sky, they wouldn't seem as special as they did now. With darkness, the stars shone twice as bright. If there were millions and billions of stars, they would drown out each other's light. Kirby smiled at the sky, hoping that the stars could see him doing so before he back to his bed to sleep.
In the darkness, the stars shone twice as bright. Each one was unique; each one had its own color; each one sparked at different times, but they all twinkled at night in an innocent manner. They were so close, but Kirby knew they were so far. What were the stars like, if each one truly did have its own special personality?
The pink puffball shivered and wrapped his paws around him. The stars were pretty, but perhaps he should have brought his star blanket out here with him…