A/N: Wow! Now the story is really picking up! I'm a sucker for slow burns, so I aplogize for such a long build up. I hope you enjoy this chapter! It was a lot of fun to write and I promise that more chapters will come soon. Thank you for the kind words! You encourage me so much, lol! Have a great week!
Peach tried to make her footsteps as light as possible, but she would be lying if she said she was being flawlessly stealthy. She hadn't had time to grab a source of light, so her only sense of direction and guidance were the mere shapes she could decipher amongst the darkness. Her body ached with pain from constantly bumping into obstacles but refused to hesitate.
She only had four minutes; she refused to waste any time.
Peach's right hand trailed against the coarse wall as she attempted to run in a straight line towards the phantom's chambers. She had the path memorized: it was straight down the corridor away from her room. In the dark, it was difficult to make out any guiding landmarks underneath the opera house, but she knew she would come across the candle light of his study.
That was, if he even had his candles lit. All she could do was hope that his room was noticeable to the human eye.
After a few minutes of clumsily stumbling and tripping over every obstacle in her path, Peach was thankful to notice light peeking through the bottom of a large door to her left. The gentle light barely lit up the surrounding area, but gave Peach enough room to see where she was.
She had found his study.
Peach paused in front of the door, her adrenaline rushing through her limbs. She could practically feel her heartbeat on every inch of her skin as she stood before the closed entrance, terrified of the fact that he had just crossed paths there and that he would likely be returning very soon.
She didn't have time to worry or hesitate, so Peach carefully pressed her shaking body against the door. It gave out its familiar cry as it squeaked open, and the full light of the room poured into Peach's face.
Peach yelped at how bright the room was. Though, she knew it only felt blinding due to her time in the dark corridor.
Peach didn't bother analyzing the phantom's study even though she rarely found herself among his belongings. As much as she wanted to pry and venture into his personal secrets, she didn't have time to allow herself to get distracted.
Peach walked towards the closet door to her left with the large, worn key in her right hand. She hesitated as she held the key in front of the closet before shoving it in, thankful to hear a soft click as it unlocked.
Peach placed her hand against the handle and leaned backwards, trying to open the door. It was jammed and made of rather heavy solid wood, but it was manageable and creaked at its rusty hinges.
Peach groaned. No matter how accustomed she became to the Darklands, she would never get used to how most doors were formatted for koopa strength rather than human ability.
She wanted to rush and slam the door open, but she knew any suspicious noises would alert the king in an instant. She didn't have any proof, but she was convinced that he had an incredible sense of hearing. At least when it came to her.
Peach poked her head into the dark closet and coughed as her face was met with a thick mist of dust. It was as dark as the corridors outside the phantom's study but littered with far more filth and debris. Everything and anything the king didn't want to bother with anymore was locked away, destined to rot amongst what he wanted to forget.
The light from the study leaked into the abandoned room and illuminated the random piles of furniture, papers, and other unexplainable belongings.
Peach coughed as the dusty air coated her mouth. It was a familiar taste that she was not happy to find herself recognizing.
The time she was locked in the phantom's closet was blurry and she hardly remembered the room. Looking from left to right, she found herself unfamiliar with the layout and didn't know where she should look.
Instead, her memory was filled with dots and missing pieces of the night she tried to escape.
All she remembered was how quickly her heart raced when she had finally breathed fresh air. How the rain felt on her skin and how she had finally seen the sky again.
It had all happened so quickly and violently that the adrenaline seemed to have blurred her memories of her time locked in one of his rooms. She didn't mind, though, as being a prisoner was not exactly at the top of her list of favorite experiences.
Peach shook her head as she tried to regain her focus. The closet started to bring out those hazy memories, but she wasn't one to look back to them with good taste. Instead, she had a goal with a very limiting time window to focus on.
She took a step inside and instantly looked from side to side, trying to see if anything matched the small iron key in her hand.
The room was like a time capsule; nothing seemed to have been touched since the phantom had roughly thrown and locked everything away. However, there were small signs of life, such as small, fading handprints on one of the large dining tables amongst the thick layers of dust. Peach frowned, realizing they were remnants of her…'stay.'
Peach's stomach fell as her gaze rested on one of the familiar objects in the room. The large, elegant dresser was covered in signs of somewhat recent contact and several of the objects had been moved around; it was her dresser, the one she had investigated.
It was worn due to the lack of care and the dust made it look like it belonged on the side of the road, but it was a dresser she recognized. The familiar engravings and patterns were dulled from age.
Peach quickly made her way towards the piece of furniture. She had no idea what she was looking for, but she had a very limited time window, so she decided to start with the one object she recognized.
Peach yelped as her foot landed on something that made a painful crunching noise beneath her. She quickly clamped her hands over her mouth as she looked down, realizing she had stood in the remnants of her broken mirror. Peach shuddered at the unwelcomed sensation, as well at the chilling memory.
Peach's eyes returned to the dresser and eyed it cautiously before looking at the two shelves.
Each shelf was filled with random personal items, many of which she didn't have any memories of. Though, some felt eerily familiar.
A small jewelry box sat on the top shelf, surrounded by pens, hairbrushes, and other feminine objects. The box was elegantly engraved with small words, jewels, and seemed to match the opal mirror she had just stepped on.
Peach gasped as she noticed the small trinket had a lock in its center. She eyed it for a few moments before pulling the iron key out of her pocket and holding it in front of the locked box.
She sighed after realizing the lock was far too small for the key. It was probably for the best, as a music box would surely alert the king the second she opened it.
She turned to the only other shelf with hopeful eyes.
Just like the one before it, it was littered with random objects that were likely placed there with little to no thought. Peach frowned as none of the objects seemed to resonate with her and none of them had any locks or indications of interest.
Confident in the fact that there was nothing she needed amongst the shelves, Peach crouched down, turning to the drawers at the footing of the dresser.
Peach gently opened and closed each drawer of the dresser, growing more and more frustrated after finding nothing but random objects such as scissors, hair ties, and a few items of jewelry. The jewels were beautiful but failed to grab her attention for more than a few seconds at best.
Peach groaned as she was most likely far over her time limit but continued the search regardless. It wasn't her fault if she took advantage of the fact that the king's errands were taking longer than usual! She gave a quick glance over her shoulder and looked into the phantom's study at the thought of him.
Her stomach fell as her anxiety rose at the sight of the king's living space. It seemed to lack any signs of life besides the crackling flames, but the emptiness taunted her. He could show up any second. For all she knew, he could be waiting for her to get caught in the act to warrant him punishing her, after all.
Peach turned back around, crouched down to her knees, and focused on the bottom rows of drawers amongst the dresser. The bottom of the piece of furniture was black from dust and a lack of care; it was filthy. Peach hesitated to touch the drawers because she had no doubt her hands would turn an unflattering color, but gave in after she swore she heard something outside.
Though, it was probably just one of the candles flickering and crackling. That's what she had to convince herself, anyways.
A large, cracked mirror sat beside the dresser and aided Peach in her worries, as it pointed directly at the entrance. She constantly found her eyes lingering at the mirror, desperate to comfort herself with the fact that she was truly alone.
Peach clamped both of her hands over the left drawer's handle, frustrated to find it was jammed shut. After a few seconds of wiggling the sturdy nob, she impatiently leaned back and pulled her body against it, resulting in a large poof of smoke to escape the depths of the drawer as she fell backwards onto her back. Peach coughed as she wafted the cloud of dust out of her face.
She cleared her throat and shook her head before sitting back up. Looking up, she fixated on what seemed to be, quite literally, hidden treasure shoved towards the back of the drawer.
A small, metal box sat at the back of the large drawer. It was roughly the length of half of her arm and its slick surface was covered in subtle, elegant engravings of roses. She frowned, feeling distantly-familiar with the trinket, just like she did with several objects in the room.
However, unlike the rest of the hidden treasures, the box was in amazing condition as it had been locked away from the deteriorating exposure outside of the drawer. It seemed to have been thrown away without a second thought and hadn't been touched since.
Peach crawled back up and placed her hands around the box. She quickly tried to lift it up with great effort, expecting the box to be heavy, but nearly fell backwards again after realizing the box felt...empty. She released an annoyed frown at the miscalculation as she was already covered in dust and was not looking to get more filthy.
Peach continued sitting on her knees, facing away from the closet's entrance, and suspiciously eyed her only exit through the mirror before giving it a few gentle shakes. The chest was not empty but she couldn't figure out what was softly rattling inside.
She placed it on the floor and fumbled for the small, iron key. She compared the two thoroughly.
Peach squinted as she eyed the key and then looked at the box. They seemed to be of a similar material, but the box was much thinner and easy to lift. The box and key were both dainty and similar in material.
Peach held her breath as she placed the chest on the floor and turned the lock towards her form. With the key in her hand, she placed it in front of the box. She failed to fit the key inside of the lock as her hands were too shaky, but finally managed to slip it in after another attempt.
Click.
Peach's stomach fell at the confirmation.
The box that sat in front of her held whatever the phantom was so desperate to lock away, but was sentimental enough to hold onto the key in his room. Wherever she had found was surely important to him.
Peach took a deep breath before gently placing both of her hands on either side of the chest's lid. Ever-so-carefully, Peach lifted the top, revealing the hidden treasures within the box.
Peach frowned as she was met with...stacks of paper. Most were roughly crumbled and the rest were neatly stacked amongst the chaos. However, Peach's eyes fixated on the only letter that remained in its envelope, the seal broken, but handled with great care, unlike the rest.
Peach's eyes lit with a small flame of frustration as she felt the urge to launch the papers into the air.
That was what she was risking her life for? Paper? Random scraps of paper stuffed into a dirty box?! She had practically thrown herself into the king's claws for his thrown away garbage!
Peach had a deep frown practically engraved onto her face as she tried to make sense of her bizarre findings.
Without much thought, Peach shakily reached her hand into the chest with her eyes closed, afraid it would bite her or she would find herself hexed; she knew something was off with the random collection of papers and was worried it might be some sort of trap. Even so, she didn't have the time to contemplate what she was doing.
Her hand hovered for a few moments before she gave in. When her hand gently brushed against the loose paper, nothing happened, so she sat in silence. It was just...paper.
She opened her eyes after realizing she wasn't going to be harmed, now much calmer, and lifted the carefully preserved letter. She eyed it carefully before gently pulling the letter out of the envelope. She felt a wave of shame, realizing how she was most likely not going to find answers, but instead cross boundaries she never would have considered before meeting him.
The shame faded as Peach read the first lines. She snickered to herself after reading the first line, realizing it was...some sort of sappy message to the phantom, surely while he was still the king in the public's eye.
The letter read,
Bowser,
You haven't written me back in a week now. I can't lie, I'm a bit worried for you. You haven't found yourself in more trouble, have you? I would say that's unlike you, but we would both be lying, wouldn't we? Please let me know that everything's alright. You do know I worry for you very much.
Peach felt a bitter pressure in her chest as she read the words. They were written in beautiful cursive that seemed to flow across the paper, but it was a bit rushed, almost as if the writer was quite anxious. She frowned as she examined the message, realizing it was surely some sort of fan letter and reading such a personal note felt like an invasion of privacy.
Whoever had written the letter wrote it with clear worry and, most likely, was cut out of the phantom's life after his disappearance. Peach frowned. What a sad ending.
She continued reading.
I know that it has only been a few weeks, but I miss you. I can't help but hope that you're missing me, too. That's silly, isn't it? I think it's rather silly. You probably have a lot of important things to focus on outside of a mere human pleading for your attention.
Human?
Peach's eyes widened as her eyes traced and analyzed the word over and over, trying to understand why a human had been seemingly writing back and forth with such a terrifying being. Peach's hands began trembling as her eyes seemed to be stuck on the word 'human.'
Was this the human the king had tried to run away with? Was she holding the last piece of evidence of her existence? Her grip on the paper intensified.
She continued reading.
You said it didn't matter, but it still makes me feel a bit silly. I want to believe the things you've told me, but I can't help but feel like you can't be seen with me or that you -
Peach squinted as the next sentence was roughly scribbled away with ink. She couldn't make it out, so she continued.
Is it because of her? Did she say something to you? Look at me, behaving like this. I really am silly. I'm sorry, but please don't forget about me. I will always care about you, Bowser, no matter what trouble you throw yourself into. I won't forget about you.
Peach felt the letter gently fall to the floor as the last line repeatedly echoed in her head as she felt her body tremble.
I won't forget about you.
Water welled up in her eyes and pooled onto the letter, but the tears were foreign; they didn't belong to her. She heard them patter against the loose paper, but the sorrow she felt was distant and unwarranted. It was as if someone's emotions flowed through her and their tears fell through her eyes.
Her tears pooled out of her eyes and seemed to bleed through her. She felt as if she was remembering something from a past life, but couldn't recall what she was supposed to remember or what her mind had locked away.
Looking down at the note that rested face-up on the floor beneath her, she read the signature that began to fade under her thick tears dampening the old paper.
Love, Peach Toadstool.
Peach's eyes blurred from the tears that sank into the letter, disfiguring the words written in ink as the lines faded. She sat still, unmoving and unflinching, for what felt like a great period of time as she attempted to process the familiar signature.
She had no doubt that her four minutes had become upwards of thirty.
The longer she stared at the letter the more familiarities she deciphered, such as the I's being dotted a certain way and the broken seal on the envelope being one she often used; all qualities she, herself, had seen first-hand.
She...wrote this letter.
Amongst the confusion, frustration and a feeling of deceit bubbled within her. While her heart ached at the sight of the note, her mind raced with thoughts of annoyance at the fact that, while it was clear that she had some role in the creation of this letter, that the king was also well aware of its existence and her lack of memory.
Seeing as the seal was broken, it was shoved away next to his study, and she had supposedly written his name, he was hiding any evidence from her. He was hiding the fact that they had known one another.
Peach's initial emotions regarding the letter had made her overlook the fact that...they did know each other. They had supposedly written to one another, if the note she had found held any truth between the lines. No matter how hard Peach squinted her eyes and tried to pull out a single memory of the king, she was met with a haze of nothing. The only words that brought out a drop of distant familiarity was her promise to never forget...him.
Suddenly, it clicked, and Peach's body froze. She gazed down at her ring finger where the ring used to rest and extended her fingers. Her palms were black from opening the drawers and touching all of the dusty objects. Her hands shook as she raised them, trying to remember any context of the jewelry she had received a long time ago.
It was impossible! She had never found out the identity of her pen pal and she, surely, had never been that close with him to write a letter so openly longing for the recipient to acknowledge her. She was never that pathetic, was she?
She put her hand back down, realizing she had removed the ring quite a while ago and it instead rested in her nightstand's drawer. If the phantom was the one she had been writing to...did that mean he had given her the ring? He had said all of those things?
Peach's face flushed with color.
What else had he said or...or done to her?! If she couldn't remember the note she had just found, how many other conversations and experiences had faded from her mind? If she had known the king, why did she no longer have any memories of him? Why did he seem to remember?
What did she do to make him despise her? Did he wipe her memories? Abandon her?
When he looked at her, it was clear he had some specific memories of her. Whether it be good or bad, she was unsure, as his eyes seemed to shift between longing and pain quite frequently when he looked at her. He was difficult to read and hid his emotions quite well, but when he slipped up, which was quite often around her, she was able to question the idea that he knew her.
She was right. Somehow, he knew her, and she might have known him, too, if the note was truly written by her hands. Yet, he had hid their relations from her for a reason, and she had no memory of him…Was this some sort of sick fantasy of his? None of it made any sense.
Had something tragic happened? Was there a reason behind her memory loss and his hatred of her? Was any of it even true?
Peach slumped over the letter, unable to find the energy to run away and avoid expected punishment. She wanted to leave, to run far away and abandon any confusion linked to the phantom, but her body remained hunched in defeat, empty of any possibility of escape.
The more she cried, the more she found exhaustion catching up to her.
As she rested, the light that had pooled into the room started fading around her, just like a wave of clouds blocking out the sun. Peach shuddered as the warmth from the king's study seemed to be replaced with a chilling, uncomfortable mist that seeped around her.
Peach raised her arm and wiped her tears with her sleeve as she looked up from the letter. Fear built in her chest, but her body remained limp, sitting on the floor, waiting for whatever fate she would be met with.
She gazed over her shoulder, her eyes half closed from exhaustion, and her gaze full of sorrowful confusion towards the monster that glared down towards her pathetic state.
Her time was up.