he was tired of waking up suddenly at other people's houses.
It was a strange, random subject to hate, but recently, he had been in quite a few eventful days.
all the blacking out was taking a toll on him too.
he knew exactly where he was this time though. last night it took him way longer than expected– despite the obvious clues and familiar atmosphere.
perhaps he had only fallen asleep this time.
he could tell by the iconic marble walls, which were overly costy, in his opinion, but memorable. dreamland had been a sleepy and generally inexpensive town. although the houses were still very nice, they usually used as little resources at possible.
even though they were cold, blank, walls, he felt comfortable with them surrounding him.
of course, it being a castle, and knowing the king, it was one of most expensive buildings around.
a guest room.
it was still moderately dark outside through the curtains, but he could see the faintest sunlight fading through.
he pondered what time it was.
he was obviously still out of it; he had recognized the room, not why he was in it.
until the realization hit him like a truck.
he pressed his back against the cold wooden bedframe, his breaths growing heavier as he gripped onto the sheets.
everything hurt.
every angle of his body writhed with stings of torment, a leftover feeling of soreness wrapping around his body. he didn't know why the aching had taken him over so suddenly, nor did he care anymore.
he pulled the covers over his body, crossing his arms to keep the heat in. he noticed that it was something he had been doing recently.
he wondered once more– what exactly happened. he craved the full story, how he came to be in the castle.
what he'd do alone in the big room.
what if they came back, searching for me..
he could feel the weight of his eyes start to ease their way back in, though, it would be impossible to slip back into sleep with his back straightened against the hard wood.
not to mention all the morbid, paranoia induced thoughts shafting through his mind.
what if they come to the castle, just to hurt me again?
surely... surely they wouldn't let him in.
he was betrayed.
all his kindness, all his trust, all his love, wasted.
it was just a game to them.
seeing how far they could push him, how far they could manipulate and control him.
and they won.
he hung onto every word they spoke. every little thing they did, or said, or the way they acted, it only either enamoured him more, or killed him even further. but was it all a façade? just a sick way to disorient and hurt him? was it just.. who they really were, behind their words of flattery and general likability.
if they had hurt him, why couldn't he stop thinking about them.
it was more traumatic, than anything. unlike anything he had ever experienced. something that shouldn't happen to anyone.
his relentless naïve trust got the best of him in those first moments. two years ago, in that flower field.
all his innocence crushed in the build up, one of their worst, of many, episodes taken out on kirby alone.
he had never known such evil. he grew up strictly in dreamland, shielded by the castle walls. none wanted his innocence to be tainted. so soon atleast. he was training to be a star warrior, after all, it would happen eventually. it would've been protected; for as long as possible.
just a little longer.
he was only sixteen.
his hand slid up to his neck, despising the contact, but a bandage suddenly stood in the way.
just one of his many wounds.
he hated this one especially. this one would stay with him.
he couldn't get the idea out of his head, any passing thought that managed to cross his mind he believed.
he was ashamed of himself in so many ways. this was his fault.
maybe if he was a better person they wouldn't of done this to him.
if he wasn't so ugly, perhaps? maybe he wasn't good enough for them at all.
he never thought he was.
never.
throughout the two years, he never got to the level of worth they desired.
he sniffed. trying to blink away the slow paced arrival of waterworks.
don't do this.
he let out a choked, quiet noise, his own body resisting him; wrenching from the back of his throat, as his lips parted slightly.
you can't cry.
he could feel himself becoming weaker with every thought. he sank down into the pillow he seated himself on, teeth baring. he could feel the hot tears build up in his eyes, drifting down his cheeks in a repetitive motion.
everyone will see you.
they'll know that you cried.
they'll know you're weak,
know that you're selfish.
you don't deserve it.
there are much worst things happening to people, yet they don't cry over it.
so why are you?
the despair washed over him, a sob choking him as a numbness started to grow throughout him. reaching to his spine, starting from his legs.
he gasped for air. it was hard to breathe through his weeping, which had grown rather loud.
they'll know. stop crying. wipe your face and get over it.
but he couldn't. he couldn't bring himself to do it, his arms were stuck crossed, shaking. his whole body was trembling, back starting to arch as he cradled his legs up to his chest.
he ached, watching droplets of tears hit the white cover beneath him.
his breath hitched, a shushed, painful wail escaping him, stuttered by his crying.
the worst of all.
a quiet knock sounded on his door, they had obviously heard them.
he could tell only by the knock who it was; it managed to be polite yet alerting at the same time, a strange combination that only fit him, to be honest.
he brought his arm to his face, and not having his sweater, or any knowledge of where it was, he was forced to wipe it all away with his bare arm. yes, he had cooled his crying for now, but his red eyes and cheeks managed to obviously give it away.
he tried to make a response, so desperately, but could only make an ugly sob sound from his throat, presumably from the pre mentioned bawling.
he didn't even know if he wanted him to come in or not and see him like this. he didn't know what he wanted anymore. he didn't even know if he deserved to want anything in the first place.
perhaps,
it was loud enough for him to hear. he couldn't get anything else out anyways.
the brown, more simply styled door creaked opened slowly.
"kirby?"
meta knight.
mentor, friend, caretaker.
it seemed that he was always there for him. to support, train, or even protect him.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
...kirby didn't want to see him.
he didn't want his pity, his sympathy.
he didn't deserve it.
not after what meta knight had been through himself. compared to his mentor's past experiences, his own problems meant nothing.
still, not being able to answer, the other, taller male persisted. slowly.
he knew a situation like it needed to be treated with great care. delicacy. one mistake could ruin everything, be the final straw.
meta knight didn't approach yet, staying at the doorway to try and calm kirby.
surely, he could do something, right? he wanted to help him, unbelievably so.
he was a child. innocent, unstained youth corrupted by the dark side of this cursed planet.
he didn't need it yet. meta knight knew... one day, he'd have to be the one to ruin his childlike view of the world. he was his mentor after all, it would be expected of him. only to prepare him, nothing more than that.
but meta knight wasn't ready for it so soon.
he realized how weak he was; how attached he had become to kirby and his naïveté, how protective he had grown of the boy.
dare he say it, he was almost like a son to him.
almost.
he believed his heart had grown too cold for the type of attachment, that he should've learned countless times over and over to not get connected.
you're nothing more than peers, he'd remind himself, nothing more.
it seemed he had failed this time.
after all, his greatest fear was losing more of his companions in life.
too many.
he had grown too close to them.
so seeing kirby hurt like this. it was almost too much to handle, and he hated it. he had grown far too soft. he needed to be strong, for kirby, of all people.
but he couldn't think of what to say.
'are you okay?' of course he wasn't.
'can I come in?' he probably wants to be alone.
'do you need anything?' obviously. but, the answer could be anything.
but, considering the fact that those were the only options he could fathom, he had to choose one.
or,..
"...Are you.. okay, kirby? may I enter?"
may he enter. was he okay.
no. he wasn't.
and he knew that meta knight knew that.
he let out a shaky sigh.
he couldn't bring himself to grow angry towards meta knight. he was trying to help.
but kirby couldn't think straight anymore, his mind was extremely scrambled. everything seemed like a blur, all happening too fast.
not believing in himself to be able to speak properly, he gave a silent nod. he breathed slowly, desperately trying to calm himself.
it felt as if any word he tried to speak would be hoarse and inaudible, or quivered and weak.
meta knight approached slowly, taking a seat at the edge of the bed.
"I know you're...not okay. It was a thoughtlesss question," he started.
kirby had no idea where he was going with this. he quickly peered down, trying to avoid as much eye contact as humanly possibly. his mask gleamed from the faint light hitting it.
he had never seen his face.
"but we're.. always here. whenever you require assistance"
yes I know.
but what if I don't want your help?
I can't stand this.
I don't need--
I don't deserve your help.
nobody's.
he clenched his legs, arms wrapped around them, a common comforting tactic of his. once again it was unsuccessful.
he let out a hitched breath, a sob threatening him from his throat.
meta knight's gaze softened, seeing the boy gradually begin to break down again.
"there's no shame in crying."
yes there is.
he wished he could tell him.
"really,–"
meta knight began to extend his arm out to the boy, nearing, and causing kirby to flinch, a flight or fight reaction surging through him. he hit the back of the bedframe again, grimacing.
"d-don't touch me!"
his words were weak. louder, yet stuttering almost throughout the whole sentence. his state of wide-eyed hyperventilating had returned, his arms immediately going to up to his chest out of instinct. his eyes narrowed as more pathetic teardrops constructed in the corners of his face.
"d.. don't.. please–" his last words had been so much more shushed, breath hitching for a moment at the reaction of tears.
he despised crying this much.
but he couldn't help it.
of course, the last time someone reached for him, lead to last night's incident.
meta knight's immediately took his hand back, feeling sorrowfully sympathetic, but guilty.
he was too eager.
moving things too quickly.
he had a vague idea of what happened– he prayed to nova that he was wrong, but judging by the obvious clues, his speculation was most likely correct.
that was such a wrong move.
"kirby– I... I'm sorry, truly. For frightening you, it wasn't right for me to do that" he tried to keep it formal, but, looking into the now fearful blue eyes the teen carried, he couldn't help but let his serious demeanor crumble in and deteriorate.
"I can leave, if it'd make you more comfortable."
kirby just wanted to be alone. even if it meant mindlessly walking into the trap of his own thoughts.
he breathed heavily, the shaking returning to his body. he could only swiftly nod, eyes squinting wearily.
meta knight gazed away. he felt so horrible– there was no other way to make up to him or comfort him. he just wanted to be left by himself. he couldn't change that.
he begrudgingly chose to respect his decision.
meta knight left the bed, cape falling just above his ankles as he stood. straightening himself, his head turned gently,
"You're positive you do not need anything?" he asked, trying to pry only a little further into the situation.
nod.
meta knight didn't speak anymore, swiveling his head back around at a nonchalant rate. he managed out a hushed sigh, returning to the doorway with his heavy steps.
he looked back only once to kirby.
the door shut silently behind him.
kirby's very own quote rang in his head.
'they'd never lie to me'.
he laid down again, breath shaky as he could feel a numb, tingling sensation begin to spread through him. his eyes clenched tightly, turning over to the side with a choked sob.
he put his hands to his ears, trying to block out all the noise from his head.
he wanted it all to end.