How long Dedede wandered, he could not really tell.
At least the evening air was cool. Dedede had never told anyone, but he'd always liked the night better. Looking at the stars made him peaceful and oddly nostalgic. And the temperatures never rose to the sweltering heat that often seized the day in that seaside kingdom of his –
Dedede stopped in his tracks, his stomach twisting. It's not my kingdom anymore…
The sounds of the waves crashing upon the rocks grew louder. Dedede was getting closer to the sea. He'd decided to get as far from the castle as possible. When he pictured in his mind the masses of angry faces staring at him, judging him, shivers still ran down his spine. He'd been thrown out of his home by his own subjects, the people who had sworn to obey his every commands. What else would they do to him if he happened to get too close to the village?
Soon, Dedede reached an outcropping of rock that overlooked the sea. His coat whipped back and forth as he approached the ledge. A strong wind whistled in his ears and cold drizzle dripped down his face, soaking his feathers and clothes. The clouds were not as dark as they had been back in the castle; here and there Dedede could see stars peering through the gloom.
Dedede looked down at the stormy sea and scowled, stomping on the ground in a sudden fit of rage. "What am I supposed to do now?!" he raged at the waves below. "Where am I supposed to go?!"
Of course the sea could not answer. Dedede swallowed back every curse that came to mind as he kicked a small rock down the cliffs. There was nothing here for him.
Dedede was alone.
He slumped back the way he came, shuddering in his now wet coat. He had thought seeing the ocean would make him feel better. The farthest he could remember he'd always loved the sea. It was the only thing he recalled about his childhood anyway, and even then, it was only a vague impression, as faint as a half-forgotten lullaby. The only other thing that existed beyond that was the memory of a world of blue and white. Nothing else remained.
Dedede sighed, hugging his large frame to stave off the cold. He was halfway through the path that had led him to the seaside cliffs when he heard the distant whirring of a motor. Dedede stiffened, whipping his head towards the source of the sound. There were only two people in Dreamland who happened to own a car: Mayor Len and –
Dedede squinted his eyes. Yes, he recognized the beige and gold coating of the vehicle speeding towards him. He felt his feathers puffing out in outrage. Someone had stolen his car! And they were taking her out for a joyride!
The sheer nerve left him frothing at the mouth. Dedede roared, whipping out his mallet out of nowhere, and charged at the incoming vehicle. The tires screeched as the car came to a grinding halt.
Dedede gave another bellow as he leaped forward, hammer poised for the attack. Gravity was starting to pull him down when a very family screech found its way to his ears. Dedede froze in the air, his growl of rage quickly turning into a surprised yelp as he started to arc downwards. He collided with the driver in a violent swoop, squashing the poor sod under hundreds of pounds of wet, shivering penguin.
A wheeze of pain came from under Dedede. The latter reeled back to the other side of the driver's seat. Escargon was squashed flat against the car door; to say he looked a little dazed would have been an understatement.
"Escargon!" Dedede growled, "the moment I'm gone, you start stealing my stuff?! You ungrateful little – !"
Escargon responded with a scowl of his own. "Ow! You nearly crush me to death and that's the first thing you say to me?!"
"Well, then maybe you shouldn't steal from me!"
"I didn't steal it from you!" Escargon said. "Well, technically, I did, but… that's beside the point! I was looking for you!"
That wasn't what Dedede had expected. "What? Why?"
Escargon rolled his eyes. "Don't be absurd, Your Majesty! I couldn't leave you on your own." Under Dedede's scrutiny, his cheeks turned a bit pink. "You can barely take care of yourself! It wouldn't have been the responsible thing to do!"
Dedede crossed his arms against his chest. "Oh, so you're here 'cause I'm too dumb to take care of myself. Yeah, no thank you."
"Well," Escargon fumed, "do you think the villagers will allow me to stay? Do you know what usually happens to the people who collaborate with tyrannical rulers?!"
"Tyrannical?! I wasn't tyrannical!"
Escargon stared at Dedede. The king's aide seemed unable to form words.
"Okay, so yeah, maybe I was a bit of a tyrant sometimes – "
"A bit?! One of your biggest hobbies was threatening people with the death sentence!"
Dedede pouted. "It was just for a laugh, I wouldn't have gone through with it…"
They glared at one another for a long moment, the only sound being the soft pitter-patter of the falling rain against the car windows. Finally, Escargon sighed.
"It's all moot anyway," he told Dedede. "We'll be leaving soon, after all."
"'We'?" Dedede said, eyes narrowing. "We're leaving?"
"Well, I am," Escargon spat. "You can come with me if you want. But…" The next words seemed difficult for him to say, "But if you want to stay, I won't stop you."
Escargon's words were like a bucket of ice cold water. Dedede looked behind him; the stormy grey sea was crashing on the rocky cliffs in large, violent surges. He stared in the opposite direction, where Castle Dedede loomed over the whole of the kingdom. Big black clouds still swirled over the only home he'd ever known – the only home he could remember. Something stung his eyes: it took Dedede some time to realize that tears were threatening to roll down his cheeks,
"Alright," Dedede said. He did not dare meet Escargon's gaze. "We'll go."
It took the efforts of the entire village to clean up Dedede's messes the next day.
Fumu and the others told Kirby they'd take care of everything, gently advising him to take the day off.
"You already beat up that jerk Dedede for us," Fumu had said. "We'll handle the rest, don't you worry."
Still, Kirby was bored out of his mind by midday. The villagers beamed at him as they worked to dismantle the booths they'd set up for yesterday's celebration, but their smiles seemed a little forced. Kirby knew they were trying not to worry him. It wasn't exactly working.
Nobody had seen or heard of Dedede since he'd been kicked out of the castle the preceding night. Escargon had disappeared as well; they had found his chambers to be empty this morning. The deserted room had left Kirby with a strange, lingering sadness.
"Who cares where they've gone?" an exasperated Bun had told Kirby upon seeing his unhappy expression. "Escargon was as big of a jerk as Dedede. You should be glad that they're finally out of your hair."
The memory made Kirby frown, and the puff stopped in his tracks. To his right, Kawasaki was giving some instructions to a couple of Waddle Dees who were taking down a series of colourful pennants. Not far away, another group of Dees were rushing past, carrying a few crates and other assorted parts. They did not pay Kirby any mind as they busied themselves with their tasks.
The Waddle Dees had acted rather peculiar last night, but they'd gone back to their usual self since then. No one save for Fumu and Kirby seemed to have noticed just how odd their sudden bout of cruelty had been. As usual, the people of Pupu Village had been quick to forgive. It just wasn't in their nature to hold a grudge.
"Good afternoon, Kirby!" a voice called out to the pondering puff, taking him out of his daydreams. Mayor Len and his wife were approaching Kirby. "I trust you've had a good night of sleep?"
Kirby nodded. After he'd defeated Dedede, Fumu and Bun's parents had allowed to sleep in their quarters. Kirby had been too winded out from his fight to go back home anyway.
"Oh! I'm glad, then!" the Mayor said. "We were all so worried about you." The surrounding villagers chimed in to voice their assent.
Kirby responded with a joyous "Poyo!" Still, an uneasy feeling remained in the pit of his stomach. Kirby paused to gather his thoughts. Was it because he was simply hungry?
The Mayor had started speaking again, but Kirby listened to him with an inattentive ear. He had made his decision. Yes, maybe he'd feel better if he found himself something to eat.
Mayor Len and the rest of the villagers gave startled cries as Kirby broke into a run. He dashed through the rest of the village without stopping, only slowing down as he climbed up the hill where they'd build his house. He burst into his modest little home and rummaged through his closet to find what he'd been searching for: an old fishing rod Fumu's father had given him for the second anniversary of his arrival to Dreamland.
Kirby sang a tuneless little ditty as he made his way towards the river. The sky was not as clear as he would have hoped – the thick clouds that had hovered over Castle Dedede last night were now casting their gloom over Whispy Woods' forest. Still, Kirby's spirits remained high. The air smelled sweet, the grass was green and there was a song on his lips. Once his stomach would be filled, even the dark clouds would not be enough to drag him down.
Soon, Kirby reached the riverside. He plopped down in the grass and threw his line, still humming his little song. The wind blew past, making leaves twirl around Kirby. He giggled when one landed straight on his nose. It was hard to keep his attention on the float as it bobbed along the flow. There was a pretty butterfly on a flower not far away; the way the sunlight caught on the glittering green of its wings was mesmerizing. Strange and interesting noises were coming from Whispy's forest, not far away: birds singing, various grunts and growls, the distant sounds of claws scratching against the ground…
And so when Kirby began to feel a tug on his line, he nearly rolled over from surprise.
Kirby got to his feet, furiously towing back his line. The pull was so strong he nearly fell on his backside three times throughout his struggle. Kirby's efforts were rewarded when the fish popped out of the water with a satisfying 'plop!' The puff beamed as his future lunch described a perfect arc through the air. Kirby opened his mouth in giddy anticipation.
And then something long and red snapped the fish out of Kirby's reach.
Kirby could only watch with open-mouthed horror as the fish disappeared from his sight. There was a loud gulp, and Kirby had to hang onto his rod for dear life so it would not slip from his hands as something began to pull from the other end. The little puff twisted on his heels to see where his line was leading: what he found completely stumped him.
The creature was round, black, and limbless, only standing at an inch or two taller than Kirby. Its edges were a bit fuzzy, almost as if it was covered by a perpetual mist. A speechless Kirby could only stare as the blob chewed on the fishing line. It was impossible to tell if the creature was gazing back at Kirby; both of its eyes seemed to be stuck in different directions.
Kirby was about to cry out in outrage when the rod finally flew out of his hands. The creature gobbled it down in one gulp. For a moment, Kirby could not find his voice. It was only when the black blob started to move that he was startled out of his daze.
"Poyo!" Kirby loudly protested. The creature was speeding away towards Whispy's forest. Kirby ran after the thief, puffing out his cheeks in anger. "POYO!"
In the midst of one bounce, the creature turned to face Kirby. Its expression was quizzical.
"POYO!" Kirby called out once more. They had now reached the edge of the forest. The Star Warrior got another look at the creature's face. This time, it seemed worried, almost… fearful.
Before Kirby could process just what it could mean, he slammed into something large and fluffy.
"Oof!" said a familiar voice. Kirby turned his gaze upward and met a pair of brown eyes. "Kirby?" Rick the hamster asked, handing out a paw to help the little puff to his feet. "What are you doing here?"
Next to Rick, Coo the owl was flapping his wings madly to stay midair. "Kirby! Thank goodness we found you before you rushed off all by yourself!"
Kirby shook his head at Coo's words. The little puff gestured wildly towards where the black creature had gone.
Rick seemed puzzled. "What? You're looking for something?"
Kirby nodded so ardently he almost lost his balance again.
Rick and Coo exchanged a glance. The hamster placed his paws on Kirby's shoulders. "Well, whatever it is, you should forget about it! Just get away from here as fast as you can!"
Kirby blinked. "Poyo?" He nearly jumped out of his skin when a deer scrambled out of a nearly bush, rushing past him and Rick in a blur of brown and white. The startled Star Warrior gasped, his eyes slowly widening as he took in the chaos that was unfolding in front of him. Squirrels leaping from branch to branch, flocks of birds screeching as they soared past, racoons and bunnies and all matter of forest critters raising clouds of dust as their paws hit the dirt… it seemed all the inhabitants of the woods were hightailing out of the place without so much a glance backward.
"You see?" Coo said. "Everyone's making a run for it!"
"Whispy's gone mad," Rick continued. As Kirby stared at him, mouth hanging open, the hamster added, "I mean, he's acting worse than usual. He's gone completely cuckoo!"
Once again, Kirby looked at the patch of forest where he'd last seen the fish thief.
"Oh, come on!" Rick said. "You're not thinking of going deeper in the forest?"
Kirby's brows furrowed. He gave the hamster and the owl a grim look.
"Alright, alright!" Rick said. "We'll let you go!"
"It shouldn't be a surprise, really," said Coo. "This is kind of your thing, isn't it?"
Kirby replied with another nod.
"Be careful out there, okay?" Rick said, "We'll go get some help! Just wait for us, okay?" The hamster then took off, pausing only to add, "I mean it! It might be dangerous! Wait til we get back, Kirby!" And with that, Rick ran off, followed by his feathered friend.
Kirby waited until the hamster was well out of sight before he took to his heels again. The forest paths were not well-lit. Usually, a bit of sun filtered through the canopy, illuminating the way, but now, with all the clouds covering up the sky, the vivid green of the woods had turned to a washed-out grey. The wind hissed as it passed through the leaves; now that all the other animals were gone, it was the only thing Kirby could hear other than the soft squeaks of his footfalls. It wasn't the summer breeze Kirby had learned to love so much – the summer breeze he'd been enjoying only moments prior while he'd been fishing. It was as cold and piercing as the gale that sometimes rose when the sea whipped to a frenzy during the monsoons.
Kirby could not tell how long he wandered the winding maze of paths that crisscrossed Whispy's forest. He stumbled upon at least three or four roots, landing flat on his face each time. By the time he realized he'd passed by the same tree more often than he could count, his face was scratched raw and his eyes were itching with unshed tears.
It was hopeless. Kirby could not find his way back to Whispy – not without the help of some forest inhabitant, at least. As the cold wind blew past, Kirby plopped down in the dirt, shivering. Some hero he'd turned out to be…
The sounds of leaves rustling came from a nearby bush. Kirby jumped to his feet, eyes now riveted on the suspicious shrubbery. There was another flutter, and the creak of a branch breaking in two. Kirby inched closer. Before he could utter a sound, the leaves were parting and a ball-shaped creature was rolling out of the bush with surprisingly high velocity.
And so for the second time that day Kirby collided headfirst with something round and soft.
With a squeal, the creature rebounded off Kirby. It flattened like a pancake as it hit the ground, but regained its original shape after a few little bounces. Kirby stood still with shock as the creature rolled back to show its face. Kirby tilted his head as they locked eyes. The red, dopey grin that broke on its face stood in stark contrast with the black fuzziness that enveloped its body.
The blob's cheer was contagious. Soon enough, Kirby's apprehension was melting away. "Poyo?" he addressed the fish thief, a question and an introduction all rolled up in one word.
The creature's long tongue dangled out of its open mouth. "Poyo?" it – he? she? – repeated after Kirby. Their screw-eyed stare expressed some puzzlement.
"Kaabii," Kirby said, pointing at himself. The little Star Warrior knew better than to forget his courtesies – after all, Fumu would have been very disappointed if he had. "Kaabii, poyo."
"Kabipoyo?" the blob said.
"Nooo." Kirby waved his arms up and down. "Kaabii! Kaabii!" He struggled to pronounce the words right. The sounds always fumbled in his mouth and never came out right. "Nay – nay – naymu!"
"Oh!" the black creature said. Their mouth quirked into another grin.
"N – n – naymu? Yuu?" the words stumbled out of Kirby's mouth.
The black blob stared stupidly at Kirby. The puff scratched his head, wondering. Did they even have a name? Where did names come from, anyway? The little Star Warrior wasn't even sure why the people of Dreamland had begun to call him Kirby in the first place. He would have to ask Fumu for clarification.
The creature rocked back and forth on its spot. Kirby took a tentative step forward. The blob bounced closer. Kirby racked his brain, trying to remember what else you had to do when you first met someone. Shake their hand? Then, what was the best course of option when none of the party involved had hands in the true sense of the word?
Kirby was about to ask his new bizarre companion if he knew the answer when a long, profound growl rumbled out of the dark expenses lying in wait at the end of the path. Goosebumps prickled Kirby's skin. The black blob seemed to shrink down. Without their red grin, only the white of their eyes stood out against the black mist that covered their face.
The air vibrated once more with the same, mournful clamor. To Kirby's ears, it seemed half a wounded animal's wail, half the snarl of a beast of prey. Yet, there was something oddly familiar about the sound. Almost as if he knew the one responsible for these noises –
The realization hit him like thunder, and Kirby took to his heels, not wasting another second. He was soon surprised to find his new unlikely friend bouncing by his side as he ran. Kirby stared at the black blob, mouth agape, but the creature's face was unreadable. The puff tossed his questions aside. He had to find out why Whispy was acting this way. The tree never had what could be called a good temper, but hurting the denizens of his own forest was something entirely out of character.
The deeper Kirby went into the woods, the denser the air seemed to get. Yet, the breeze hitting his cheeks as he ran remained cold and dry, a far cry from the sticky humidity he'd learned to expect from his country of adoption. Shadows loomed over him and his companions as they rushed through the woods, leaping over roots and brooks and rocks with an agility that was at odds with Kirby's earlier clumsiness. The wailings were growing in intensity. They were getting closer, Kirby could feel it.
Whispy's clearing was ominous in the lack of sunlight, the colours that normally brightened up the ancient tree's abode appearing deadened under the grey skies. The white and pink and yellow flowers seemed to shrink back under the darkness that reached out from the depths of the forest. Kirby could not see Whispy's expression, but he could hear his wheezes. The little black blob let out a whimper.
There was a long, chilling creeeak as the tree trunk twisted to face Kirby. Whispy's eyes were blank, two great holes had held none of the warmth that usually lit the ancient protector's gaze. Kirby backed away, slowly realizing he'd seen the same kind of eyes not long ago, on someone else's face. Dedede had him given a vacant, indifferent look as well when they had fought last night.
A hiss escaped Whispy's open mouth. The leaves fluttered about the clearing, caught in a cold wind that soon rose in intensity. The ground rumbled from under Kirby's feet; the young puff braced himself, knowing well what was about to come.
When the root burst out from underneath Kirby, the young Star Warrior had already leaped through the air, evading the sudden assault not a moment too late. His strange new companion was not so lucky. The blob cried out in surprise as the root whipped at them, knocking them back into the trunk of another tree.
"Poyo!" Kirby exclaimed. The moment his feet had touched the dirt, he was rushing towards the black blob. More roots erupted from the ground; they surged skyward, twisting like the limbs of a mad octopus. Kirby dodged their attacks with a few swift sidesteps and slid towards his unfortunate companion. The creature had jumped back to their – well, not to their feet, since they obviously didn't have any.
"Poyo?" Kirby asked, the single word heavy with worry. The creature seemed to understand Kirby's intent and they flashed him a quick grin.
Kirby's relief was short-lived; not a second later, the roots lunged forward, swooping low to knock both Kirby and his friend off the ground. The puff made himself as flat as possible; he watched with wide eyes as the roots swept only an inch away from his face. Next to him, the black blob had flattened their body as well.
Whispy finally drew his roots back. The ancient tree huffed and puffed and Kirby yelped as he was brushed off his feet by a great whiff of air. A stray root swerved towards the young Star Warrior: it would have struck him if the black blob had not chosen this moment to jump and push Kirby out of the root's trajectory. Kirby looked on in horror as the root instead smacked his new acquaintance right on their nonexistent nose.
"No!" cried Kirby. He hit the dirt running and saw stars for a moment. In the distance, he heard someone call out his name. Kirby's head was swimming; had he imagined that voice? Perhaps he had –
" – irby! Kirby!"
Someone helped Kirby to his feet. His heart swelled with happiness as his eyes met a pair of familiar gazes. Fumu was grasping his shoulder, a wavering smile on her lips, while Bun stood not far away, holding a long stick as a sort of improvised weapon.
"Kirby!" Fumu said. "Are you alright? What happened?"
Kirby heard a flutter of wings and saw that she was also accompanied by Coo.
"Whispy!" the owl said. "Stop this madness! Please!"
"It's no use, Coo! He's not himself!" another familiar voice added. Rick the hamster scurried into the clearing. "Is it the work of another of those Demon Beasts?"
Before Kirby or Fumu could answer, a deep rumble rose through the air. Whispy's wooden cheeks puffed out. His roots emerged from the ground, whipping the empty space with renewed violence.
"Sis!" Bun cried out. "He's about to attack again!"
Fumu's grip tightened around Kirby's arm. "Oh no!" She rummaged through her bag and handed something to Kirby. It was… a simple, frilly parasol. Kirby stared at her. "Oh, don't give me that look!" she growled. "Mrs. Hana gave it to me! It was the only thing I had on hand when Coo and Rick found us!"
"Maybe we should have taken one of Kawasaki's knives!" Bun said, exasperated. "Or, y'know, a torch!"
"A torch?!" Rick said. "What, so you could have burned the whole forest down – whoa!"
A vine flew a hairsbreadth away from his furry nose. Rick tumbled on his behind with a yowl. Another root headed straight for Bun. The boy swatted at it ineffectively with his stick and the wooden appendage knocked him back almost effortlessly.
"No!" Fumu screamed.
Whispy puffed out the air he'd been inhaling. Fumu gave another shriek as the rising wind lifted her off her feet. Kirby shielded himself with his stubby little arms, managing to hold his ground… except the parasol slipped right out of his hands.
The frilly abomination would have swung out of sight and out of reach had a long and now familiar red tongue not caught it right as it was about to disappear in the dark depths of the forest. The tongue reeled back to its owner with such speed that the parasol smacked the little black blob right in the face. Kirby's new friend seemed a bit dazed for a moment. Then, they whirled on their spot, hurling the parasol towards Whispy with great force. The shaft bent a bit as it hit Whispy's face. To Kirby's surprise, the tree squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing in pain and ceasing his rampage if only for a moment.
Still, it was all Kirby needed to act; he rushed forward, opening his mouth to inhale Mrs. Hana's poor mangled parasol.
From the spot where he'd been unceremoniously thrown to the ground, Bun gave a whoop as Kirby twirled in the air to show off his new weapon. The grip of the parasol in Kirby's hand was familiar, almost comforting. Kirby nearly returned Bun's smile… but then, he caught Whispy's empty gaze staring back at him. Kirby recalled Dedede's frightened and tearful pleas as the villagers dragged him away from his castle. The memory made him cold all over. He couldn't let something like that happen ever again. He could not.
Kirby offered a mental apology to Whispy as he charged, thrusting with the tip of his parasol almost as if it was a sword. A wild tangle of roots thrashed in-between Kirby and his target. Kirby could not tell how he managed to escape their violent sweeps: he simply did, sidestepping and jumping and crouching with a level of skill that went far beyond his young age.
The parasol slammed into Whispy's wood visage. The impact was not strong enough to break the bark, of course, but it left the tree roaring with rage. One branch came down to swat at Kirby, but in a surprisingly graceful movement he sprung to his right, grabbing his parasol with both hands to swing it at Whispy's nose. Cloth and metal collided with wood with a nasty crunch. Whispy pulled back his roots and vines, and the clearing was now filled with the low thrum of his howls of pain.
Kirby flipped back on his feet, his parasol ready for another attack. Whispy moaned and thrashed in apparent pain. Kirby frowned. Whacking the ancient tree a couple of times with a parasol was nowhere near enough to cause him real damage.
Bun seemed to think the same thing. "What's going on?" Kirby heard him say. "Why has he stopped attacking?"
"It's almost as if…" came Fumu's voice, "almost as if he's fighting off whatever's controlling him!"
"C'mon, Whispy!" Rick shouted. "Snap out of it!"
"One more!" said a voice Kirby did not know. The little black blob had rolled next to him. "One more!"
"Wait, what?" Bun blurted out, at the same time his sister cried, "What?! What is that?"
Kirby had no time to marvel at his friend's newfound voice. He propelled himself forward, deflecting a few incoming vines by opening up his parasol and hiding behind the red and white fabric. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spied a blur of green and brown speeding towards him. The vine was but an inch away from Kirby's face when the black creature's tongue snagged it, halting its course. Whispy's branch strained against the force of the blob's pull. The round creature offered Kirby a wink before finally letting go. The vine swerved back towards Whispy, hitting him square in the face with a resounding thwack!
Not a moment later, Kirby was sliding towards the great tree, swinging his parasol with all the strength he could muster. The metal shaft twisted as it struck the poor forest protector. Kirby jumped back, panting, as tremors began to ripple across Whispy's trunk.
The canopy above fluttered with each of Whispy's shudders. His face froze up in a soundless scream. A dark mist came out of his open mouth. The black cloud thickened, its edges turning denser, sharper. Through the fog, Kirby glimpsed a bright orange eye rolling back into its socket. For the briefest of seconds, Kirby met its one-eyed stare; the fiery iris flashed red at the sight of the little puff. And then the black mist was gone.
