Hello once again.
I am here to say that I am now a college freshman! Should be fun.
Updates will be far less frequent (obviously) but I'll be trying to write even more words per chapter now and overall have a higher quality of writing, so this should be interesting.
Without further ado, here is my second Kirby fic. It is going to serve as a prequel to the first one, Trapped Together, and reuse the title of an older story I abandoned called Left Alone when I was still learning the ropes of this site.
Hope you all enjoy, review, and follow the story. PMs reviews are welcome appreciated.
When someone says something that sounds too good to be true, it almost always is. That was just the way people talk about things; exaggerating the good or bad in something as if that were the only thing that mattered, as if there was a universal objective filter on morality that separated people and things into two mutually exclusive categories because nobody is willing to admit nor take the time to comprehend the truly complicated topic that is morality. Some things are definitively good or evil, true, but more often than not it's a complex mixture of various greys that ask too many awkward questions.
Dream Land, situated on Planet Popstar, certainly appeared to be and advertised itself as an eternally sunny paradise. And sure, it was certainly very sunny and peaceful in Dream Land compared to the likes of the Outer Territories, but a paradise? Debatable. There had been a routine in Dream Land: the big baddie from who-knows-where shows up to destroy/enslave the kingdom/world/universe, and the great Kirby of the Stars with his band of friends defeat the villain and secure peace and tranquillity until the next one shows up and the cycle continues. After so many repeats of the same plot line, one can't help but feel that something about it seemed just a tad bit manufactured.
Again, there certainly were some definitively evil beings that fell at the hands of the star warrior, but there were certainly too many of them for the narrative to make sense after a while, right? Just how many incarnations of darkness and evil were there, exactly? Surely not all of them were the equivalent of or worse than Nightmare, right?
The Dream Landers, whether they be Cappies, Dees, Fringers, or Kapps; they didn't really mind. Perhaps Dream Land was so peaceful because no one inhabiting it's lands were really all that bright to be able to cause a cataclysmic war or anything of the sort. Unfortunately, their blissful ignorance only served to do more harm than good; they were easily manipulated, allowing anyone with enough foresight and wit to easily influence them with little resistance. That wasn't to mean they were all stupid; many were talented and/or intelligent; but nearly all were willing to go on with their lives without worrying about who ruled them until there was a tangible detrement to their routine. By then, it would've been too late to revolt against their new, usually mal-intentioned, overlords, and they would call upon Kirby to save them, which he quickly, and gladly, did.
The result was that Kirby was praised as a hero after the big baddie was begone, but after the wounds were healed — and the wounds healed healed quickly, mind you — they would go back to their usual business. With little regard to previous events, they would grow suspicious of the puffball that had just saved them, at times being egged on by the realm's self-declared king, of Dee origin, who at the time thought that if Kirby did receive the respect he deserved, he would get big ideas. He would want the top job! So get him before he gets you, and preferably do so behind the scenes to appear innocent enough for him to keep supporting you. Then, the next time business was interrupted, the hero, shunned just weeks or at times days before, would be called upon to save them and all would be forgiven! For at least a little bit.
Sure, this interpretation of Dream Land's shenanigans is in some ways overly cynical, but it did make some fair points about the backward situations its hero found himself in, and it probably helped to explain how Dream Land's golden (or, ehm...pink) boy, despite all his praise and heroism, often found himself so lonely. It had been this way since day one, when he mysteriously crash landed near Cappy Town when the realm's famed and magical Fountain of Dreams found itself under threat. He did ultimately find some initial friends in the form of the children of the king's cabinet minister and a mentor in the form of the ever-mysterious Meta Knight, but as the years passed by and the young Kirby acquainted himself with this life, he started to desire something a little more personal. Fumu and Bun were too busy with schoolwork to hang out much, and Meta Knight was more of a father-esque figure and was always unpredictable, so it made sense to yearn for a new source of moral support during down time. But who would want to hang out with him? He was childish, too suspicious. He didn't even know how to talk all that well quite yet, so who knew what he was hiding!! (No really, that's what some in Dream Land at the time legitimately believed)
Nah, it was easier to just run around in the green fields, chase butterflies, and eat stuff. Kirby really liked eating. He did have an endless stomach to fill, after all.
It should have been a normal day. It should have been another usual, non-suspecting day.
He had wandered off to the eastern corner of Greeny Greens, imagining all the delicious things Cappy Town's Chef Kawasaki would have prepared for him on his return. He was on an "expedition" of sorts, seated on the side of a hill, relaxing and taking in the breeze when he heard footsteps approach him.
At first, the puffball internally panicked. Usually, when someone approached him without announcement, it meant they were accusing him of something he often wasn't responsible for. Confrontations weren't exactly his strong suit. But quickly, his perception shifted. The person that approached him very clearly looked distressed, but not at him. They were a purple-colored ball-shaped thing, with two large blue eyes looking straight at him, wearing a red-and-blue jester's hat, a red bow tie, and two non-matching brown shoes, one of which had a patch in it. Whoever this was, they clearly weren't of any sort of noble or upper class status.
"H-hi..." the stranger stuttered. Their voice was somewhat squeaky and lacked confidence.
Kirby nodded back.
"I-I lost my ball and I...I think it's, uh..." they continued to struggle. "I think it's somewhere around here."
"Poyo?" Kirby inquired.
The purple one's state of discomfort was immediately replaced with that of confusion. "Huh? Wh-what're you saying?"
"P...poy—" Kirby now was the one struggling. Why is talking have to be so confusing?? "B...uh—"
"Are you oka—"
Kirby raised his stub to interject. No! I've got this! "B...ball, poyo?" Aaaaarrgh
They snickered at the puffball's challenge for a short bit before responding, "Y-yes. My ball. I'm trying to find it. Have you seen it anywhere?"
"Kirby no—" He slapped himself before proceeding. That's not the right grammar! Remember what Meta Knight taught you.
The observer was taken over the edge with that goof and broke out in all out laughter, pointing at the puffball and falling over and everything. He had definitely made their day, as all the stress from earlier was now mostly forgotten. Kirby, however, didn't take it as well. The laughter broke him out of his thoughts and brought his train of thought to a part of his mind he didn't like to think about. He liked being happy and making people happy, but this... He was being made fun of.
He had suffered from similar treatment multiple times in the past, ridiculed for his toddler-es que behavior and the weird partners he found himself teamed up with during his adventures. It was just another part of the routine, but it cut deep. Perhaps not as deep as when he thought the whole of Cappy Town abandoned him, nor as deep as times when other towns unironically chased him away, but it hurt nonetheless. He wasn't in the mood to confront these deeply buried emotions right now (or ever, to be honest), but for some reason, right there, the fact that even a Dream Lander from the Fringes was making fun of him and his aphasia (which was no fault of his own; he was still young and still learning, and was very very difficult to learn) somehow managed to break him at his core.
He got up and started running, running as quickly as he could from the laughter, from the complete ignorance that was chasing after him. He couldn't stop himself from crying; already there were tears rolling down his cheeks. He closed his eyes tightly, not wanting to even see the ridicule. He ran and ran and ran as fast as his feet could carry him. Everything was a blur. He...he just needed to escape...
He tripped and fell at some point, and even though his collision with the ground wasn't all too extraordinary, it felt as though he had fallen down a cliff. Every part of his body was aching with pain. Voices all around him were insulting him and laughing at his pathetic showing and how much of a fool of himself he had made. Kirby didn't want to get up. He wanted to bury himself beneath the ground to escape this torture. His usually unsatisfied appetite no longer existed; he instead felt on the verge of vomiting.
Leave me alone. he cried. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone.
"Yeah! Go away!" a voice chanted.
"Nobody wants you here!" another joined in.
"Just go ahead and die already!" yelled a third.
Leave me alone Leave me alone Leave me alone Leave me alone Leave me alone Leave me alone Leave me alone
"You're nothing but trouble!"
"Look at all what you've done!"
"You're a monster!"
"You're worthless!"
"DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE"
Please just leave me alone
Please just let me die alone
There was a quiet voice in the distance. He couldn't hear it at first, but as it got closer, all the others started to quiet down until they were all completely silent.
"Hey! Wait!"
Please just leave me alone
"Come back!"
Please just let me die alone
Someone was breathing heavily, panting. They clearly were running after him, but why...?
Put me out of my misery please and let me die
"I...I-I'm sorry that I hurt you, alright...?"
Everything froze.
"...I...I didn't mean to hurt you, okay? I...I don't know what I was thinking..."
"...Poy...?" Kirby muttered. He was so tired and weak.
"I just wanted to know if you've seen my ball anywhere..." The voice sighed. "But I...I just did what I always do... I ruin everything..."
Kirby looked up worryingly. It was the purple one who was speaking, and the puffball was now left wondering where the follower was going with all this.
"That's all I ever do..." Their eyes were reddened and their face was full of shame. "I just hurt everyone..."
"Poy...i-is..." Kirby didn't know why, but now he felt obligated to make the jester stop their self-loathing. Maybe it could help stop his, too. He stopped to take some time to put the right words in his mouth, but his first attempt had led them to face in his direction, puzzled. Intrigued, even?
"Poyo...is...is not your fault." he squirmed out.
"..." They were somewhat stunned having heard Kirby pronounce that. He responded shortly after, "...but I made you run off."
"K-Kirby—me—I...don't want you...t-to be sad, poyo."
"That doesn't mean you have to be."
Kirby's eyes widened. That statement rang a bell within himself. Did the other care about him? Like...truly care about his emotions? This was unprecedented! Only Fumu and Bun has previously been—
"...m-my name's Marx, by the way." they said, smiling somewhat uncomfortably, but smiling nonetheless. "I'm guessing that yours is Kirby, right...?"
Kirby suddenly again started finding it hard to speak to the oth—Marx—in a semi-coherent, but no longer due to his limited speaking experience. Rather, he realized that one of his deepest pleas for a new companion was potentially about to be realized. He didn't want to screw up this golden opportunity, so finding the correct words to say to Marx and respond in a timely manner was proving difficult. He chose to nod instead.
"Kirby..." Marx started getting used to saying that name. "Kirby, Kirby, Kirby. ...I like that name. Yo definitely look like a Kirby, to say the least."
Kirby chuckled. He didn't know why, but he did. This guy was funny. The jester hat now made a bit more sense.
"Real quick, um...h-have you been hurt by these sorts of things before?"
Kirby nodded. It didn't even make him feel any less comfortable; in fact, it didn't matter at all anymore. He was about to make a new friend, and that was all that mattered in the moment.
Marx leaned in close, perhaps a bit too close. Kirby's face went red.
"You're not alone." he whispered.
He leaned back and starting to turn around, leaving Kirby bewildered. "I gotta start heading back." Marx said. "I'll try to find my ball myself. It...d-despite our hiccup, i-it was a pleasure meeting you, Kirby."
He faced away and started waking due east, back toward the hill they had met on minutes before. Was it minutes, though? It was starting to grow a little dark out...
"A-again?" Kirby called out.
Marx turned back around. "What?"
"C-can you and K-me m-meet again, poyo? Oth-other day?"
Marx smiled again. "...Yeah. That would be nice."
And from then on, Kirby was no longer alone.
TBC
What? You thought that would be the ending? YOU ARE MISTAKEN
There's a lot more to unpack! A lot more plot to thicken! A lot more angst to write! Stay tuned for more...