First Life Lessons Are Always Confusing

The first ever fight Cuphead got into was when he was eight years old. It had been during sundown and one of the other boys on the playground during recess had been talking about his brother. Calling him a wimp, big nose,the usual asshole-ish remarks of bullies. Now, for a short, yet long, time Cuphead had surprisingly managed to stay out of trouble. He still talked stuff straight up in front of the teachers and a few mischievous pranks were pulled here and there, but in terms of actual trouble the cup had been mindful to stay away from all that. One would call that the golden days of Cuphead's life.

Back when the boy didn't make brash and bold decisions on a whim with small mutterings of, "idiot" or something of the like.

But, on that fateful Thursday Cuphead had made his mark as the troublemaker of Isle 1. Actually, he became the child that would totally be up for a fight if you gave him a reason to which earned him the title of bold child wanna get into fights for no reason (he got his ass handed to him on multiple occasions after these events).

The porcelain headed boy stepped up to the metaphorical plate handed to him ready to "settle the score".

Or at least...in the cup's mind that was what he was supposed to be doing right? Like, that was thing, yes? Big brothers do that all the time...right?

And besides, if anyone asked him why he thought it would be a smart idea to do a one versus three fight he would simply say:

"I mean it seemed like a pretty good idea at the time and come on, I've won plenty of fights!"

Cuphead had in fact, never won a fight in his short life.

His little brother had finally been dealt the brutal fist of reality, he had been bullied and therefore everyone had to die - NO EXCEPTIONS. After all, as the older brother, it was his duty to dutifully beat the crap outta those who dare to taunt his little bro. I mean sure, no one was sure who was older but he was because he could be and Elder Kettle said he could be whatever he wanted to be and he wanted to be the older brother, nothing wrong with that.

Honestly though, now that the boy was here it only occurred to him then that perhaps he shouldn't have involved the bully's friends in this fight…

And maybe, he shouldn't have agreed to fight on school grounds. Technically speaking there were still teachers in the building and tutoring was still going on, too.

Crap.

On the plus side, he'd sent Mugman home so he wouldn't have to watch this totally PG-13 battle that was about to go down.

And rather quickly things did go down.

Cuphead lost which was to be expected.

Apparently when you've crafted a sword so majestically above the blazing fire that dances and spits forth fiery Furies from its mouth like only the best swordsmith could accomplish; handed so precariously down to only a knight worthy of using such a crafted sword to serve justice on those who deserved it; doesn't officially mean you were bound to win. In fact if anything Cuphead was a little shocked and perturbed by this, not fully understanding the ramifications of what had just taken place.

Sporting a bruise worthy for a boxer champion than anything and a small chip on his head (his brother's bully sure was being awfully generous!) the red clad boy lay in the dirt contemplating on just how things had gone wrong so fast. He had been in victory's reach - he was sure of it!

And then the sound of giggling and snickers caught his nonexistent ears. He turned his head and found himself in a much more surreal situation than previously thought. At first the defeat he was handed was small, not so bad, a sting to his ego but nothing more. Now though…

The girls had seen his ultimate failure!

Now thatwas unacceptable by Cuphead's standards.

So like the empty headed idiot he was he demanded a rematch.

To bad the teachers had caught him, and the bullies, in the act otherwise he would've gotten away with it.

School was technically officially out for the day, so the teachers could do nothing but let a snickering bully and his gang go along with a frustrated Cuphead who for some reason had been reprimanded more than the group of four had.

Up until now Cuphead had never, ever, been humiliated in such a blatant and blunt way. Never had he lost to someone.

It was…

Infuriating.

He hated it.

This feeling of complete disgust at himself for such a fail. The fact that he couldn't even bring himself to have an actual comeback for the jeers that had rang through his head as he had passed those girls yet again. He could barely face them with the weight of the...the…

Embarrassment.

Which isn't to say that Cuphead had never embarrassed himself before - he had done so plenty of times, but...this - this was sooo different and so much worse.

It was like a sinking feeling in his gut that threatened to eat him whole. It tore at his insides making him squirm at the undeniably thick sensation trying to settle within him. Because somewhere in the depths of his conscious he could hear the soft whispers of failure and you failed your brother! And it hurt...it hurt a lot.

So much more than it should have.

"It was just some stupid fight, though.." Cups muttered under his breath even as his cheeks flushed a light coloring of salmon-pink. A part of him hissed at him, liar, it wasn't just a fight - it was more than that, but the heavy sensation of the welling emotions he felt that threatened to spill over; that pricked sharply at the corners of his eyes and made his nonexistent throat feel heavy making it uncomfortable to breathe; how it made his tongue feel dry and mouth parched, and how he was doing everything in his power to keep it together made him push that small, antagonistic voice aside in favor of looking up at the sky.

He was now off Isle 3 and on Isle 2, and of course, as to be expected most of the amusement rides an venues were closing down as the sun began to settle for the night and the sky began to become a dark indigo blanket covered in glitter.

Cuphead winced.

Elder Kettle would probably be having steam streaming out of his top by now. And what's worse, he would probably end up not getting dessert after dinner either. Then again there was also the fact that Mugman never slept until Cuphead was settled in. It was an odd, yet comforting, thought that his little brother put the effort into making sure he was comfortable in his own bed before taking care of himself.

Truly it was adorable.

The cup found himself stopping as he looked on with wide eyes at the bridge that connected Isle 1 and 2 together. Or the lack thereof said bridge that was in the middle of...construction?!

"What the…"

Well...this was a predicament.

Now Elder Kettle was most likely having a stroke by now!

So not only was he humiliated today, not only did he get scolded, and he was late for dinner, but now…

Now he was gonna get scolded twice. TWICE. No child ever got scolded twice on the same day!

There were still some wet cement patches covering the construction site, and on normal days he would be writing his name in the concrete. But due to the unfortunate circumstances that wasn't to be the case today.

The cup took a look around before carefully plodding his way over the slightly torn down bridge.

Also getting his foot stuck in cement.

Well he can add that to his list of problems as well.

The sky was vast and empty from the view that the small cup had as he ascended up a grassy hill finely trimmed along the sides and decorated with vast amounts of flowers. He could see about three red roses, and a few dozen blue tulips, which then was finely complemented by the rows of gardenias lined in the back. On both sides of the path he walked the flowers were symmetrically balanced. Of course, there was only one person who took time out of their day to tend to the flowers, that person being Mr. Redwood. He was a weird kind of guy, and kind of creepy, too - he had an apple for a head which made him extra creepy.

Cuphead was glad it was nighttime because now he didn't have to run into the guy. That would be horrifying!

However those thoughts soon left his head as he came upon the cottage of which resided his guardian and little brother. The cottage in question had a very homely feel about as one should expect from a little house upon a hill surrounded by deciduous trees of all kinds. With one look at its mushroom like appearance one already could smell the homemade cooking and delicious dinners that would await within. It was a place of tranquility and serene. Something that you would never find within the crazed filled, sweet-toothed, fairgrounds of Isle 2 or within the arduous workaholic, late night jazz filled air of Isle 3 where you were more than likely to get robbed blind than be treated to a good drink and a great time.

However, within the walls of this house things were constantly moving at a fast pace. Cuphead and Mugman's arrival having destroyed the thoughts of cozy comfort completely. Now it was just the sound of screeching, crying, and the ever increasing sound of what could be considered plates crashing (it was actually just Mugman and Cuphead's splendid ability to run, knock, and fall into things). Cuphead approached the house with trepidation snapping at his heels and pushing him ever closer to the warmth the house emanated. He had barely stepped on the porch before the light itself came on and there was a thunderous CRASH! As the wooden door slammed into the hard cobblestone of the cottage. Standing in the firm light of the livingroom was none other than Elder Kettle himself (who had not had a stroke at how late Cuphead was) huffing and puffing and Cups wasn't sure if that was because of the amount of energy it took to slam the door open like that, or if he was genuinely that mad at him. Although Cuphead noted the fact that the kettle didn't have steam protruding from him so...it was a start.

"Your brother's been crying.." Elder Kettle stated in a calm voice as if scolding was too much, and that a simple statement would be enough to suffice.

And it did as the red porcelain cup idly scuffed his feet on the wooden planks of the porch and rubbed his arm awkwardly staring at everything, but his guardian.

"What happened to your face?"

"I...hit something…" Cuphead mumbled, panic screaming in his mind about how he hadn't thought this through at all and Cuphead promptly told it to shut up.

Elder eyed him cooly, "Looks like it hit you back hard." He squinted a bit more at the toon who flinched at his response. And it was only as he did this that he realized that the child also had faint scratches and scuff marks, along with a chip in the shape of a 'v' embedded deep within his white handle. He also noted the cement caking the bottom of his right shoe but decided not to mention it.

There was a brief moment of silence with the steady crescendo of crickets breaking it.

"You look tired." Elder Kettle's voice had lowered to a soothing rumble, one that reminded the small cup of being four, and snuggling against his brother, both dressed in their respective color coded PJs, sitting next to the teapot as he told a story lulling the siblings to sleep all while the fire crackled in the background. He was being nice. He knew exactly what Cuphead had done and he was being nice about it.

Cuphead wanted to cry.

And he very nearly did.

"Am I in trouble…?" The kid sniffled, feeling both vunerable and dumb.

"Yes," the kettle answered still in that soothing voice of his.

There was a deep sigh let out before the elder was ushering the smaller one in. Cuphead did so obediently, head down, feet dragging across the floor. His gaze was half lidded as he realized he was tired.

The cup would have made his way to his room where he was sure Mugman was pretending to sleep so when he walked through the door he would get a fierce hug and a scolding. Of course that wouldn't happen, as Elder Kettle took a hold of his hand and led him to the kitchen which was to the right of the livingroom in a little alcove. There were small steps that led into the kitchen, the same steps Cuphead and Mugman had tripped over when they were sippy cups.

Elder Kettle had just about fainted all while Cuphead cheered and Mugman clapped giddily as if it was the best day of his life.

The kitchen was spacious and yet somehow small. Now that Cuphead was older it certainly felt smaller. The sink and cabinets all pressed together tightly against the stovetop and oven which sat in the middle. The dining table was placed in a small corner simply because there were only three people living there. The house itself was just as warm and cozy as it had always been, the peaceful ambience that always settled comfortably around the house broken by the cackling of the fireplace.

Cuphead sat down at the kitchen table, fully aware that he hadn't eaten in a whole hour. He could smell pot roast, and the boiled onions and carrots and potatoes. The smell of minced garlic teased him with the smell of cooked meat. He inhaled sharply as a feeling of apprehension and excitement rushed through his being, for it wasn't everyday the toon got to eat solid food.

Of course, rather than a full plate he received a smattering of what was left over which immediately dampened his already sour mood.

You would have had a full plate if you weren't picking fights you can't win, a scathing voice in his head hissed. His hands clenched at his sides, tightly balled to the point of almost cracking. He glared pointedly at his food and properly, for the last time, told the voice in his head to shut up.

"Did you want to talk about it...or rather - why you got into a fight today?"

Cuphead blanked for a moment, his sharp glare vanishing just as quickly. Why had he done it? A few hours ago, he would have been so sure of the answer, but now….

So he went with the first thing he could think of, and surely, Elder Kettle would understand to some degree.

"It was payback," the cup winced instantly as his voice sounded so small and fragile which immediately turned into indignation. He wasn't weak and the reason for what he did were justified.He just hoped Elder Kettle saw it the same way," they were talking nonsense and stuff about Mugs! I wasn't gonna let that slide!" He slammed his hands on the table a fierce look in his amber eyes as he glare pointedly ,now, at the sitting kettle.

To Cuphead's relief the old toon nodded sagely before responding with something that made the toon freeze up once more.

"And where was Mugman in all of this? Hm? You went and fought off a bunch of bullies, I expect nothing less of you - but, then where was your brother?...more importantly...where were you, Cuphead?"

Cuphead balked at the man, mouth hanging open a smidgen and the fire ignited within him at a simmer. Where had he been? Teaching mean people a lesson, what else! The cup said as much to the elder which was met with harsh scrutiny.

A weary sigh escaped the gray kettle. "Cuphead…" He started as he felt a headache coming along.

"What you did today, to anyone else, would seem noble, but! - your brother needs you Cuphead. Not fighting for him, but for you to be with him." He paused there hoping the toon was understanding of where he was going with this.

"I know, you want to help, and be a good sibling but you left Mugman to fend for himself on his own on Isle 3 and 2 while you were fighting; your brother has been crying, Cuphead because it was approaching nightfall and you didn't show up for dinner."

Silence once again fell over the table. Cuphead spooning in as much roast as he could get in his mouth so he could delay his response, Elder Kettle watching solemnly with weary olive eyes. Swallowing, the boy noted the elder watching him still, awaiting his response to the lecture, if one could call it that…

Finally the silence snapped.

"Cuphead."

The boy let out a noncommittal grunt in response, pushing food around on his plate which had grown luke-warm. Elder Kettle sighed once more before heaving and pushing himself out the chair which scraped along the wooden floor.

"Cuphead...please understand I don't want you to think you have to prove yourself to be a good brother. Because you are, but Mugman needs you and you're all he has…"

Gently, the man placed a hand upon the toon's shoulder lightly, pat it twice, before hobbling his way out of the kitchen.

Cuphead stared down at his food amicably, that feeling, the one he had felt after the fight came back with a vengeance mocking laughter filling his head and cruel words spit forth venomously. Now Cuphead had truthfully been listening to Elder Kettle, it just so happens he heard what he wanted to hear, and so for the red cup he did not hear the sound of a gentle voice, but a scathing tone complete with disappointment. For it could be nothing else, he had failed as a brother and now, possibly as a son. It hurt a lot, he didn't even know how he was gonna look at Mugman after this but he hoped he wasn't going to be scolded again.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He should have won that fight, he should have been able to get home in time for dinner and not fall into wet cement and tell his brother all about how amazing he is and how his big bro was looking out for him.

He shouldn't been scolded twice in a day…

Frustrated, he shoved his plate to the side and pushed himself roughly from the table.

He was tired. He didn't want to feel bad about what had happened. He knew what he had done and that was...fine. It was fine, right?

...Right?

"This is so dumb…" Cuphead muttered under his breath, as he proceeded out the kitchen into the living room, and up the stairs to his bedroom where he was sure his brother was waiting for him.

Except he wasn't.

The blue mug was bunched up into the thick comforter Cuphead had made for him - with Elder Kettle's help of course - with intricate patterns women onto the fabric. It had been a birthday gift…

"Hey Mugs? Sorry 'bout missing dinner…"

Gentle snores were his response, but that was okay...he didn't really need to know did he? So that down on the edge of the bed simply watching his brother's still form under the cover for a moment.

"Elder Kettle said you were crying when I didn't come back, but I was! I was coming back! I wouldn't leave you and I won't."

"..."

"..."

"But you probably already knew that, you probably want me to shut up and let you sleep and dream about cotton candy rainbows...or whatever younger siblings dream about."

More snores.

"Good night, Mugs…"

And that was that.