Leech

Chapter 10

When he woke the next morning, before consciousness had fully returned and with his thoughts still ensnared in the slow-fading kingdom of dreams, he didn't know where he was. Dreamland, because he never was anywhere else but Dreamland. In his own circular house, because he never slept anywhere but his own circular house with no corners.

Rather, there was someone with him, which must be wrong, because he always woke alone; someone with their arms around him, like they were afraid to let go, should he leave. So, he didn't let himself wake yet; couldn't remember the last time he'd caused that sort of reaction in someone.

The birds outside were really loud. Inevitably they pulled him from sleep as hard as he clung to it.

The arms around him never left. It was only as his eyes blinked open that he recalled why. Of course - Marx had once again refused to go to the floor. His annoyance from the previous night surfaced, though his comfort currently overrode it. Later he could be annoyed. Now he could go back to sleep (assuming those birds would give him enough peace to).

Kirby shifted to get more cozy. Unfortunately, this motion caused Marx to twitch and make a small noise of protest. Kirby froze, waiting for him to go back to sleep. No such luck.

"Nnn... You're too warm," the drowsy Marx whined. He withdrew his arms and prodded Kirby's back. "Go away."

"Stop, that hurts. Can't we sleep more? It's early still."

"Nuh uh." Since the prodding had not produced the desired results, Marx fisted him hard in the center of his spine, causing Kirby to yelp out and arc his back.

"Ow, fine, fine." He hastily got up, rubbing his bleary eyes, and peered down to find the other had curled back up by himself and closed his eyes. "Hey!"

"What? My bed my rules."

"Not this again..."

Marx opened one eye and met his gaze while keeping the other firmly shut. "You're the one that won't stop bringing it up."

Kirby sighed. "C'mon. You said we'd go to the tailor. Don't you want to do that?"

"Five minutes."

The tailor ended up being an unpleasant trip, what with Marx incessantly squirming and snapping at the lady sizing him, then her trying to scold him, which led to Kirby privately trying to talk Marx out of "sticking her full of her own damn pins like a nice pin-cushion-voodoo-doll, see how she likes it!"

Then Marx got over-excited about the shade of purple cloth he found in the store. Kirby thought it was exactly identical to the color Marx already wore, but according to him, it was significantly different in his color spectrum. And significantly important. Kirby decided not to question why Marx's color spectrum was different than others.

The tailoring escapade ended only when his clothes were designed to his great satisfaction: they were essentially the same as what he'd worn before, except that the sleeves actually reached his wrists and there were no random patches of mismatching fabrics. Unfortunately, Marx complained vehemently to the lady about her service anyway, and she kicked them out of the shop very upset-like.

Marx was pleased: he'd gotten his outfit.

Kirby was feeling unnecessarily stressed, however, and guilty about irritating the tailor. Somehow he should've prepared Marx for going to the shop, since he'd known Marx wasn't good at social things like that. He also was concerned that Marx now only had one outfit that fit him properly, though he kept quiet on that so as not to ruin Marx's mood. He could bring it up later.

They also dropped in on several other stores, one for toiletries. Marx went around the entire shop smelling every single kind of shampoo before selecting the very same one Kirby usually bought.

At lunch time, they went to Kawaski's again, even though Marx didn't seem to like his food. It provided a good opportunity for Kirby to inquire about the war again, where Marx had left off before, as he ate his own meal.

"So, you were talking about the GSA and Nightmare..." Kirby prompted.

"I was?"

"Don't you remember? You said that people weren't sure what side they should be on, and I wondered why."

Marx grinned. "Ah, yes. I remember now. That everyone you'd call 'good' sided with the GSA at the start."

"Exactly! Why did it change?"

"Simple." Marx rested his chin on his hands. "The GSA is going to lose. And Nightmare has a poor chance of winning."

Kirby paused mid-bite, raising an eyebrow.

"Zero," Marx uttered. "Zero is going to win - that's my bet, at least. You see, the GSA may be the whole righteous cause, fighting for their independence and freedom as they are... But, righteousness doesn't count for much if you're dead. The GSA can hardly afford shoes for their soldiers - and interstellar travel?" Marx laughed. "Not so much. They're almost all grounded now; the ships they do use are outdated, the-"

Kirby looked up abruptly. "Ships?"

"Sure. War ships. Big vessels."

"Like... the boats that go on the lake?" Kirby tried. He knew it wasn't what Marx was referring to, but at the same time... Ships that could travel across stars?

"Like the boats that go on the lake, except a lot bigger. And they fly. Anyway - they can't afford their own war, and between death and deserters, they don't have all that many soldiers either. If they did win the war... what then? They don't have jack to rebuild a single country, forget a bunch of planets."

"Why doesn't their king fund them?" Kirby said in confusion. He knew, of course, that the king might be like Dedede, and unwilling to extend favors... but still, for the GSA's cause, you'd think he'd do something.

"You really don't know anything," Marx replied flatly. "There is no king, Kirby. No money wrapped in cute little bundles to drop everywhere."

"Oh..." He quietly went back to eating, trying to fathom how such a large place could ever get along without a king.

Marx drawled, "You could almost say... Nightmare would be the king, if he would win the war. And if he wins - well, he has the resources and power to boost all the planets screwed up by war. He could bring order upon the galaxies. Unite them under one ruler. He promises wealth, order - a dictatorship where everything is decided for the people by him. An absolute dictator certainly seems promising after such confusion and devastation in leadership, that the GSA has."

"So, you're on Nightmare's side?" Kirby inquired.

"No, I hate the guy. I'm only telling you why the GSA isn't looking so pretty any more to people."

Kirby nodded to show that he understood. "Okay, I get that. But you mentioned someone named Zero?"

Marx's expression darkened. Normally as he spoke, he was animated and got into the topic with gestures and comparisons, or at least had a look of mischievous glee in his eyes. All that was completely gone. "Yay. Zero."

He let his hands rest on the table, task-less.

"What's wrong with Zero?" Kirby was almost afraid to ask, since he'd never seen such a reaction from Marx. He didn't even realize that he'd set down his fork; so absorbed that he'd ceased eating.

"Everything," Marx spat. "But, he'll win."

"Why?"

Marx scooted his chair back slightly so he could draw his legs up to his chest. He rested his arms over his knees and stared sightlessly at the table. "Zero can't be defeated. He's not like Nightmare or the GSA. They both have weaknesses, see? Everyone has a weakness; something that you can manipulate or control. Something you can exploit. Zero doesn't."

Dread and fascination had their mixed effects upon Kirby. He longed to question Marx for every single detail of who and what Zero was, and everything he knew of him. At the same time, Marx's reaction by just talking about him was unnerving. If anything, he'd interpret it as fear... But he'd never seen Marx afraid.

Marx ended up continuing on his own, and Kirby wasn't even sure he was talking to him anymore. "See?" he said softly. "Zero doesn't wait for anything. He gets a plan and he sticks to it exactly until the end, and he's effective and unavoidable. Once he decides something - you can't do a single thing. He'll never gloat, he'll never give up, he'll never get distracted. He just does."

"If he's that good, why hasn't he won yet?" Kirby said in amazement.

Marx shrugged. "He'll win once it suits him."