~Prologue~

I was eight when I lost my twin brother.

After mom's death, Claus wanted to run away from home. He refused to let me follow him.

"You have to stay here," he said, pushing me back. "I'm the oldest. That's why I have to go find mom."

"But mom's dead..."

"Mom's not dead. She's not! I-I'll prove it! I'll bring her back! So don't cry, Lucas. Don't cry, okay? Stay here and look after dad."

I can still remember his hands gripping mine. The desperation in his eyes. Capable, courageous Claus was scared.

I'm sorry, he'd said.

I can still remember the way he hugged me. The way he crushed me tightly to his chest. Like he knew that he wasn't ever coming back.

Promise you'll return? I asked.

He cracked an easy smile then, and ruffled my hair. I promise.

Claus never returned.

I was eight years old. Eight years old, with no mother and no brother. Eight years old, with a family that had been torn in half. Eight years old, with nothing but empty hopes and a broken promise on my ears.

I was all alone.

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~Chapter Two~

The Boy with the Loud Voice

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Wild, chaotic, and unpredictable, Ness is the textbook definition of Social Butterfly. He appears, then disappears. One second, he's blasting practice dummies in the training rooms, then not five minutes later, I'll spot him dorking around in the cafeteria. It's, therefore, very normal for Ness to pop in and out of my personal bubble whenever he pleased.

Summing it up in one word, Ness is talkative.

Recently, he's been anything but.

It all started with the nervous ticks, I think. Maybe about a month ago, maybe even longer. The way Ness would cram his lunch into his mouth in one bite and dash out when I arrived. The way he'd shy over and mumble under his breath whenever we were alone together in a room. Even when we trained together, Ness easily got distracted over the tiniest things. During the battle fray, his eyes kept wandering around in my general direction before I had to yell at him to move out of the way of an impending KO.

The changes didn't stop there.

Dorm life had also become an eye-opener.

Ness never barged into the bathroom these days without knocking, even when it was clearly empty. Whenever he had to wake me up, he'd stopped dive-bombing me from the ceiling by yelling Geronimo! up the top of his lungs. Instead, he quietly sprawls over my back with his legs dangling over the side of the bed and stays there like an extra blanket until I decide to get up. Other times, he'll do all of the above, then stammer out a rapid questionnaire - a hey how are you doing, is everything okay, I wonder what's for lunch - before sprinting out like a wild tornado on the loose.

Ness has developed a routine.

Weirder still, it's an... odd routine. Or rather, it was odd, because his new-found quirks were so un-Ness-like that it forced me to pause and rethink his behavior.

Was I scaring him off? Possibly. I guess it is weird when your roommate grows a foot over the past year. Also doesn't help that we're polar opposites in almost every way. Sleeping habits. Battle tactics. Socializing. Definitely socializing. Ness attracts attention. He's loud, but loud in an overly-friendly way, slinging his arm over my shoulders and happily shouting into my ears whenever he felt like it. Even that though, has been happening less and less. His cheery charm has all but evaporated into nonexistence.

Maybe my antisocialness is rubbing off on him. Admittedly, I like to think that I'm not entirely socially incompetent, but public speaking is a nightmare, second only to awkward elevator silences, and small talk is hard to start. Ness only makes both look easy.

We arrive at the gym before the announcements start. I've always wondered why we've had a gym, when we have an arena, a full floor of training rooms, and plenty of warm-up mats. Samus tells me that the auditorium's only here for appearances. Apparently Master Hand appreciates the high school aesthetic.

On the podium, Mario tests out the new mike. "Testing, a-one, a-two-"

Taking advantage of this distraction, Popo waves us over. "Yo, peeps. Join the party."

"Where's Master Hand?" Toon Link asks, tip-toeing to peek through the crowd like a lost kid looking for his mom. "I swear I saw him yesterday for room inspections-"

"Chillax, Toon. He'll come whenever he comes."

"Well, I really hope he comes quick-"

"That's what she said." Popo breaks into an obnoxious cackle, and beside me, Ness snorts at the crude joke. Poor Toon. Popo set him up from the very beginning.

"What?" Toon demands after looking at our faces. "What's so funny?"

With a dramatic sigh, Popo slings an arm around Toon's shoulder and gives him a rough noogie. "Oh, sweet summer child. One day when you grow up, you'll understand-"

"And regret it," breaks in another voice.

Letting a sputtering Toon go, Popo flashes a cheeky grin at his new arrival. "As congenial as fuck, Red."

Red rolls his eyes. Restless from waiting, Ness scuffs his shoe, not in the mood to continue the conversation. Concerned, I shift my gaze to the back of Ness's head. Ness is the kind of person who can't keep things in. On any ordinary day, if I'd upset him, I'd know.

But this is no ordinary day.

As if sensing this, Ness finally meets my eyes. He forces on a grin. "Mike problems, huh? That's jank."

There it is again. The lack of eye contact.

The squeal of the mike cuts off my thoughts.

"Attention, Fighters!" Satisfied with the test, Mario proceeds. "Master Hand had to-a leave the Mansion for an urgent city council meeting. He entrusted me to-a run you through the next match-ups-"

Ness isn't the only one tired of standing around. More than ready to hogtie someone and slow-grill them in his fire pit, Bowser snorts with impatience, shooting twin pillars of flame out of his nostrils. "Hurry up, old man. We aren't getting any younger standing here."

"Yeah!" Bowser Junior echoes, forever an avid supporter of his dad.

Ignoring the father-son duo in favor of upholding his duty, Mario turns off the lights, cloaking the auditorium in darkness. A spotlight flashes onto the stage. "Please-a listen closely. The PREVIEW matches are-a up on the projector-"

"...And these matches are aired LIVE," Megaman guesses, but he's been through PREVIEW season before. He's only waiting for a solid confirmation.

"Yes, PREVIEW matches are aired LIVE. Don't forget to fill-a out the paperwork-" The auditorium reverberates with a collective groan. No one likes paperwork. Mario frowns in disapproval at our unenthusiastic display. "All of-a you are veterans. You-a know the drill. It's PREVIEW week of the Winter Championships. This is the-a chance to shine in the public eye-"

As Mario rambles in the background, Ness and I share a knowing glance. We've trained together for months. Even if we don't place first, at the very least, I have high hopes that we won't make a complete fool of ourselves.

Mario taps the mike again for attention. "So... ehem, instructions for PREVIEW week. The-a prep teams should tell you when to arrive before each-a match for make-up and warm-up. Moreover, we will-a be hosting the PREVIEW interviews. Do not-a forget. I will-a be coordinating with the camera crew tonight. All of you should-a check out your times."

I grimace.

I forgot about the interviews.

Right in the heart of the city itself, Smash Square broadcasts LIVE interviews during the hype of PREVIEW week. Despite decent Privacy Protection Acts, I'm not ready for the slew of invasive questions the reporters have up their sleeves. My fanbase is so obscure that my questions are reused every year. There's only so many ways I can answer the same question without sounding like a tape recorder on repeat, and while I like to keep my answers short and simple, I risk Master Hand's ire for refusing to engage in conversation. Short and simple answers don't fly well. I have to fluff up my answers. Pour forth eloquent Shakespearean poetry on the spot like I'm giving thee mine fucking soliloquy. Somehow.

Talking on stage isn't easy. No matter how many times I've faced the cameras, it doesn't get any easier.

I glance over in time to catch an oblivious Ness in mid-yawn, and stifle a grin.

At least I won't be alone.

"-and finally, your PREVIEW week match-ups. Please take-a note of your scheduled opponents. Also, a last reminder to show up-a on time! After all, the-a Stylists need time to work their-a magic on you before your-a debut on stage. Thank you, all clear!" Mario claps his hands once, and light re-floods the auditorium.

The Blue holographic projector flashes. Ness and I... are pitted against Villager and Red.

A sigh of relief escapes from my lips. They're fair fighters. I don't need to worry about causing potential grudges. It seems like such a small concern, but the competitive air here changes some people for the worse. Things can get ugly fast.

Ness must've noticed, because he slaps me in the back with a smirk. "Ha! Ready to wreck some freshmeat?"

I flash him an identical smirk. "Ready when you are."

"Ten points I'll spam PK Fire like a filthy casual-"

"Twenty, you PK Spammer."

"Hold the fuck up. Spammer?! Who are you talking about, you fucking hypocrite-" When Ness wrestles me into a playful headlock, I grace him with an elbow in the ribs. A burst of happy feelings explode from our brief contact, and involuntarily, I relax. Whatever funk Ness was stuck in, it seems like he's getting over it.

Or so I thought.

Then Ness quickly pulls his arm away. "I f-forgot," he stammers. "Laundry detergent. Ran out of shirts."

"What-"

"See you later!"

I open my mouth, but he dashes off before I can edge a word in. Feeling like I've been cheated of my voice, I close my mouth. Is doing laundry another running fad? Maybe it is. How the times change. Last week, it was the viral Tide pod challenge. This week, I guess it's the let's-actually-use-the-laundry-detergent-right challenge. It's incredible what moronic things people will do to gain Internet fame. Humanity disappoints me yet again.

"Wow. That's the fifth time he's ditched us for laundry." Toon Link remarks like an awed biologist, watching Ness retreat with the grace of a flailing seal. "He must really like his chores!"

"(No. I'm sure Ness just had to take care of other business)," Villager signs.

Popo raises his eyebrows suggestively. "Other business."

Everybody gives into a collective groan. Popo is the kind of person who swore that he fell in love every time he saw a new girl. He has no shame in being too open about everything... even in admitting things that shouldn't be said out loud.

I suppose that there's a strange kind of bravery in that.

"Aw, don't give me that face-" Beaming, Popo tugs off the hood of his parka. "A guy has to jerk off every once in a while-"

Enter damage control.

"Popo, are you traumatizing everyone again?"

"I plead the fifth," Popo starts with a grin before his older twin sister drags him away by the ear. A classic hothead, Nana's temper at the worst of times could give Bowser's a run for his money.

"Come on, lazybones. If you have time to crack lewd jokes, then you have time to train with me-" Nana casts us an apologetic look, which is somewhat diminished by the headlock she had sprung on her brother. "How long did he keep you guys hangi-"

"Not long! Not long at all! A-Are you two off to train too?" Toon blurts out, blushing a furious red from Popo's lewd suggestion. I'm not surprised if I am too, even though I'm no stranger to witnessing sex escapades around the mansion.

Brightening up at Toon's suggestion, Nana swings her mallet over her shoulder. "Good call. We're about to book an eight-player practice match at Final Destination, if you guys wanna join."

Toon gratefully leaps on the opportunity. "Sure! Lucas, are you-?"

I'll pass.

Don't get me wrong. With the right people, multiplayer brawls can be fun. Crazy fun.

But as much as I appreciate the prospect of a sweaty, eight-man free-for-all in a cramped arena, why should I if I can instead dwell in my own quiet corner of the training room without the background noise of hammers thudding against each other and loud Hyaahs! reverberating against the stage and deafening roars of Charizard's flamethrower ringing in my ears?

There's a difference in being alone and being lonely. Conversation and crowds can get stressful after a while, so I tend to recharge and let other people do the talking - "Other people" usually meaning Ness. Not speaking up for myself is a bad habit that I have yet to break out of, but so far, I'm comfortable with Ness taking the initiative.

So when Toon looks a little too eager to wheedle me to stay, Red rests a firm hand on his shoulder, startling Toon enough to close his mouth.

Saved.

Relieved, I spare Red a look of gratitude, and Red gives me a rare smile. It went without saying. We ran on the same wavelength. As cathartic as brawling is, with all the fighting and chaos, peace and quiet are sometimes hard to stumble upon in the Mansion.

Instead, Toon nervously glances at the swinging gymnasium doors. "Um... What about Ness?"

As if triggered, Nana's nostrils flare up in anger. "We've got to talk to him. He's acting like- like-"

"Like a girl dumped on her first date?" Popo sports helpfully.

Nana stomps her foot in an impatient fit. "Exactly! If he's not stuck in this depressed slump where he doesn't give a shit about anything, then he starts pissing people off left and right! He's been like this since the start of November. That's weeks ago. Weeks!"

"Wasn't Ness supposed to go home for Thanksgiving...?"

"Yeah, Toon. Ness's Leave of Absence was supposed to last two weeks. He cut the vaca early," Popo agrees.

"Maybe he's homesick!"

"But that doesn't make sense! Isn't it odd that he's still here? Since when does Ness stay for Thanksgiving? He always goes home! And his empathy link-" Nana cuts herself off with a deep breath. "I tried to pry anything out of him, but he's flat-out refused to spill. Popo, are you sure he hasn't told you anything?"

Caught examining his nails in fake fascination, Popo jerks his head up. "Hm? Nope. Told me to fuck right off."

Nana's expression contorts with frustration. "Not. Helping. Seriously, why is Ness acting so moody? Is this another psychic thing I don't understand?"

"Maybe he's on his period."

"Laundry, my ass. Let's follow him next time he ditches us. I want to see what the heck he's so busy with-"

"Follow Ness? I doubt that'll help much, sis," Popo yawns, dropping his hammer against the floor with a pointed thunk. "And I think you've noticed, but Ness has always been kinda moody-"

"Not to the point he's lashing out at everyone," Nana snaps, and I wince, remembering Ness's encounter with Wario in the elevator last month. Needless to say, the elevator reeked of garlic for days.

I'm brought back by the sound of Toon Link's voice. "-shouldn't be a problem. We've got Lucas," he says, sounding hopeful as if all of his worries had evaporated into thin air.

Everyone stares at me.

Unnerved by the sudden attention, I blink. "Huh?"

Nana brightens up. "That's perfect!" Grabbing hold of my arms in a death grip, Nana shoots me her best totalitarian dictator glare. "Lucas, we hereby command you to talk to Ness."

"About what?" I echo. I hope none of them have noticed that I'd accidentally zoned out. "I don't follow-"

"You know," Nana flaps her hands. "About how he's feeling, what's got him down in the dumps... you're the psychic, question him!" Nana looks excited. "Why didn't we try this earlier? I mean, Ness practically tells you everything-"

I massage my sore arms with a grimace. "That's not true-"

"You'd have better luck than any of us combined."

"He's been spazzing out around me-"

"At the very least, he won't lash out at you."

"He's been avoiding me-"

"He's been lashing out at everyone except you," Nana says carelessly, and shoves me in the back. "So stop chickening out and give it a go."

"Nana, you- I can't-" I cut my strangled voice off. Since when was I get elected for handling emotionally-charged situations? Nana must be insane. Or plain desperate. Sending me in to clear up social disagreements is just as bad as dropping a nuke right on top of the White House. I think about the way Ness has been avoiding me. The way he'd twitch and jump and spazz out whenever I'm nearby.

Ness doesn't behave that way around other people.

He's only antsy around me.

A horrible feeling resurfaces up my throat. My hands turn numb, so I stuff them into my pockets. "I'll try," I mutter.

Villager tilts his head. "(There might be a misunderstanding. Talk it out.)"

"Yeah! And while you're at it, tell him that he's been a major jerk," Toon Link huffs, furiously blowing hot air through his nose. "It's not cool of him to ignore you-"

Off to the side, Popo tosses his head back in a sudden laugh. "Oh no, guys no," he chokes out. "The problem's not going to end there."

"What do you mean?" I say sharply. Popo knows something about... whatever Ness is struggling over ... that I clearly don't.

Popo shakes his head in sympathy. "Poor kid. I'm glad I'm not in his shoes. Like bro, he's definitely stuck between a rock and a hard pla- ow!" Popo cries out in mock hurt when Nana pinches him in the ear again in warning. "Geez Nana, I got it. No lenny jokes, I'll behave-"

"We'll see you later, Lucas," Nana says, glancing at the gymnasium doors a last time before returning to scowl at her brother. She's worried about Ness too. In fact, if everyone's noticed Ness's weird behavior, then my previous hunch is correct.

Ness is upset, and somehow, I'm involved.

I flashback to anything that I could've said, anything that could've been a possible trigger, but I come up blank. Right now, I'm probably the posterchild of some ad, because this sure seems like the perfect way to advertise my lack of social awareness. "Awkward teenager found new way to max repel his roommate! Scientists hate him for this one weird trick! Watch this shocking video to find out how he did it!"

It's not magic.

It's a straight-up fact: I'm not good with people.

I jerk out of my reverie when someone gives me a pat on the shoulder. "Not your fault," Red speaks, breaking his daily word quota. He's released Squirtle from its pokeball, because the blue turtle is now nipping at the bill of his cap.

"I hope so. Thanks, Red," I say gloomily.

Giving me a nod, Red whistles once, low and short. Perking up, Squirtle jumps into his arms. With another reassuring pat on my shoulder, he lifts his hand, and we part ways.

Smash Mansion lives up to its name. Adorned with magical windows that glow and reflect off the city lights, it's easily the tallest skyscraper downtown. Even with the arena deep underground, the Mansion itself reminds me of one of those dazzling New York hotels you'd see on a glossy cover of a fancy magazine. It's got everything the mind can imagine: Arena on B1, Glass elevators in the lobby, training rooms and meal hall on the ground floor, library on the second, Smart laundry machines and tech around every corner, and a pristine swimming pool at the penthouse that shoots up into the clouds.

Something about its surreal luxury bothers me.

The glowing buttons buzz when I press them, and the elevator trickles to a stop after a blur of ear-popping color. The dorms are suite-style and separated by gender. Girls stay on the 9th floor, guys on the 10th. The only exception is Nana and Popo - twin siblings who prefer to room together - and the Assist Trophies who claim the 11th floor.

Warm, buttery lamp light illuminates the walls. As I pass the first room (Room 1001), the delicious aroma of ovenbaked rotisserie chicken hits my face. I hear laughter and boisterous yelling: Cloud's hanging out with Ike and his buddies again.

Arriving on the doorstep of Room 1010, I twist the knob, but it refuses to budge. I check my pockets. Sure enough, no key. I'm locked out again. I groan. Just my luck. First I can't people, and now I'm forgetting my belongings all over the place.

Thankfully, as I wait by the door a flustered mess, Ness quickly answers the door. He never leaves a friend hanging for long.

Though judging from his forehead sweating bullets, his expression looks oddly uncomfortable, as if he's stepping on a pile of red-hot coals.

Cracking the door open wider (barely enough space for an ant to fit through), Ness nervously peeks at me. "Hi."

"Hey," I automatically respond.

Cue awkward silence.

I think you get the hint.

Clearing my throat to gloss over the moment, I scramble forward with a mumble of 'scuse me,' but stop in my tracks when Ness misreads my hesitation, already closing the door. Now fumbling over his mistake like a slippery football that's escaped his hands, Ness swings the door open but accidentally trips over the doorframe and hits himself with the knob.

"Ow, fuck-"

"You okay-" I start, reaching for his hand before something explodes in my ears.

I retreat, my eyes stinging from smoke just as Ness flounders around in an even greater panic. "Ah shit!" He hurries out to check on me. "Sorry about that-"

"Don't worry, I'm all right," I cough, waving away the smoke.

"Oh geez, why does this keep happening to me - IT'S OKAY, NO ONE DIED," Ness adds hastily when curious heads poke out of the corridor. Scrunching up their noses in distaste at the smoke, the Brawlers shut their doors with a disgruntled complaint.

Safely out of the blast zone, I warily watch Ness's fingers spark yet again of their own accord. "Did you catch a cold? Dr. Mario could prescribe you something-"

But Ness shakes it off, running over to pull me upright. "No need, no need, I can control my- whoops-" he hurriedly jumps back when he electrocutes me with his hand. "Static electricity-"

"Ness," I interrupt. "Your powers are getting out of hand. You should see Dr. Mario-"

"-But I'm not sick," Ness protests.

"You're not well."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

I pointedly pause to take in his appearance. His hair sizzles upright from his electric discharge. The bottom of his heat-resistant t-shirt is slightly scorched at the edges from his PK Fire. "Because normal people don't blow up like electric sockets every day."

Ness now glumly stares at the floor in defeat. "...okay. You got me. It's just a little spark here and there-"

"You've been exploding into flames and electrocuting anyone who touches your hands," I say matter-of-factly, and Ness flinches. Admittedly while not a sympathetic approach, I can't sugarcoat the truth. Not when his condition seems to be growing worse. "You can't help anyone if you can't help yourself."

"But I'm okay!"

"Ness."

Caught in the act, Ness's shoulders slump over. "Listen... I really am okay. So believe me when I tell you not to worry about it," he says quietly.

He sounds so miserable that my expression softens of its own accord. I don't have the heart to push him. This is why Nana's reasoning is flawed. Ness involuntarily tells me things on his own accord, and whenever I sense his discomfort, I don't push the matter.

"We should still talk. It's not that I don't believe you," I add gently when Ness stiffens up as if to shoot back a defensive retort. "But everyone wanted me to check on you. Believe it or not, you have been acting a little out of it for a while-"

"You know I get stressed out near the tourney-"

"But that's not the only thing on your mind."

"I'm doing fine. Swell. Really." Ness twitches like a dying spider. Clearly he's not fine at all. "Lucas, knock it off. Let's talk later, I'm kind of busy-"

"With what," I ask, genuinely curious.

"With stuff, okay? Leave me alone," he snaps back, stunning me. While Ness has a short fuse, he's never taken it out on me before. This only reinforces my suspicions.

Something is bothering him.

Something big.

I raise an eyebrow.

As if instantly regretting his outburst, Ness looks at me in horror. "Shit, I didn't mean that-"

On an ordinary day, I would've dropped the subject. I'm not a confrontational person, and everyone has an off-day. That said, people and emotions are a can of worms that I'm less than willing to open in the morbid fear that they'll eat me up alive.

But Ness is the opposite. He's a people person. As an empath, he's constantly bombarded by the feelings of others. He doesn't have space for his own emotions, so what he can't keep in, he keeps out.

Which then leads to him finding me and spilling the beans.

Why Ness seeks me out for emotional advice is a mystery, considering that I'm the furthest person from wise and experienced in the area, but the arrangement works out surprisingly well for both of us. Whenever someone or something ruffles up his feathers the wrong way, Ness will tag along my heels, excitedly chattering away in an indignant sort of manner - seething, venting, fuming - before trotting back to my side with a sheepish, good-natured grin ten seconds later as if nothing happened. Ness doesn't let himself wallow in self-pity. He can make anything sound funny. He takes a crack at his own misfortune, and twists even the most horrible of situations into something to laugh about. He gets over things as quickly as he gets riled up over them.

And it's nice, if not slightly comical in itself. The best part is that I don't have to do anything. All I have time to do is watch, blink, and listen before Ness would dash away, leaving me in the dust with a yell of a Thanks, Lucas!

Which is why his sudden outburst gives me reason to pause.

Ness's behavior isn't improving. Whatever's been bothering him is still bothering him now, and the past month of his sudden aggression is only the icing on the cake. Whatever it is, it's making him frazzled, nervous, and stressed to the point that he's losing control of his powers.

It's time to step in.

From down the hall, another round of muffled laughter bursts out of Cloud's dorm.

I lean against the front door. "Hey. What's going on?" I say softly.

Looking deeply ashamed of himself, Ness stares at his shoes. He won't meet my eyes. "I can't find my laundry card," he says meekly. A pathetic excuse, but Ness can't lie for his life. His feelings show up on his face like a Christmas light.

Still, I applaud him for trying.

"We can talk another time...," I trail off, offering him a way out, but when Ness quietly shakes his head, I take that as a cue to proceed, and ease the door out of the way.

The living room's scattered with boxes, strewn over every inch of floor. Is Ness unpacking more goodies his mom sent him from home? That might explain his defensive attitude. Ness hates other people calling him a mama's boy, but in all honesty, I think that his strong attachment to his mother is commendable. Not many people call their parents on a daily basis at this time and age.

Ness stumbles into my line of vision. "I know, it's a huge mess. I'll clean it up-"

"Here," I say, reaching for the box-cutter in his hand. "I can help you unpack-"

As if that's turned on a switch, Ness jumps backwards, his hand flying away. "Don't!" Ness suddenly shouts, frightened, and the words die in my throat.

Realizing his mistake too soon, Ness raises his hands up in a hasty attempt to cover himself. "Don't... come close. Because erm... I... I might be sick. Lots of germs, you know. Dun want you to catch whatever I'm getting..." He gives a forced cough, but I don't join in on the fun.

Ness isn't someone who scares easily. He's pulverized long-standing arch-nemeses, defeated an alien warlock, and taken down opponents three times his size without batting an eye.

But it's hard to miss how badly his hands are trembling. He's jittery, and it's not because of battle nerves.

This frightens me. I'm not good with people. I'm not good with feelings, or with understanding feelings for that matter, but Ness is different. Ness is my best friend. I gave him space in the hopes that it's all he needed, but now, I've come to realize that "just space" wasn't enough. There has to be something else that I can do, something else that I can do to fix whatever is upsetting him, because Ness is unhappy, and that thought is starting to make me unhappy too.

Even after taking a deep breath, Ness's voice still sounds shaky. "Ah fuck. Lucas, I know this might sound really weird, but I need to tell you something."

Concerned, I wait for him to speak, but Ness cuts himself off.

"I'm scared that... I'm scared to- no, of telling you- of you-" He looks constipated, as if he's straining to dislodge something unpleasant out of his throat. His eyes wildly flicker up to my face in search of an unknown answer, but when he finally parts his mouth, all that emerges is a small squeak.

Oh. He's scared of me.

Hurt chokes the words back into my throat, but I force it down. Now isn't the time to be upset. I lower my voice into an even tone. "Right. Well, I'm sorry I pressured you. Let's talk later."

"It's not - Lucas, wait!" Ness reaches for my arm, but I've already veered into the corridor. If Ness doesn't want to see me, then it's best to make my leave as soon as I can. Staying only imposes trouble. I don't want to impose that burden on my best friend.

Because I'm not the solution.

I'm the problem.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Emotions are messy. People are messy. I don't know how to how to handle other people's emotional troubles, much less my own, because I simply don't deal with them. I'm no Ness. I can't go around hugging people. I can't magically make people feel better. I can't bring myself to whisper false lies and sappy it's okays, because the truth is, it's not okay, and whatever I say won't change that. I can't treat people right, I know can't treat people right, and suddenly I feel so stupid for believing that I could cheer Ness up.

Because eventually, I hurt everyone around me. My missing twin brother is a true testament to that.

Ness grabs hold of my arm. "Lucas, let me explain-"

"You aren't obligated to explain," I reassure him, because it's true. Ness owes me no obligation, and it's none of my fucking business to pry.

But Ness's grip remains firm. "I don't feel obligated to explain," Ness says, lowering his voice.

"It's okay, I was being inconsiderate-"

"Inconsiderate?" he blurts out, confused. "No, Lucas. I - gah! I was sorting out my junk because it was getting old, and okay, I know this sounds like a bad excuse, but I've been in a trashy mood lately and didn't want to tell you so I got all snappy because you started distracting me-"

"Sorry," I mumble, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

"-fuck! That's not what I meant! You weren't distracting me, I was - dammit, I'm rambling again-" Frustrated, Ness shoves a hand into the messy hair under his cap. His cheeks turn bright pink. "Fuck it, I don't even know anymore! I've been stressing out because of my dad for a while. We've been fighting a lot lately, a-and I wasn't ready to tell you that I-" Ness takes a shaky breath, and his grip on my wrist tightens. "Lucas, I'm sorry for treating you like shit. You don't deserve that. Honestly... everyone's been sticking their nose in and asking if I'm feeling all right because it's not all right, but you've been giving me space and it's been a big help. Really. I just have to sit down and deal with some things on my own, but it's not because of you. It's not you, okay? Don't ever think that."

But I feel worse. Ness was going through some rough patches at home, and as a friend, I didn't see that. I'd doubted Ness and jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Some friend I am.

Shame prickles the back of my neck, so I avert my eyes.

As if knowing how to dissipate the awkward tension, Ness bites down on his bottom lip. "I could use a hand in unpacking," he says hesitantly, his eyes trailing up to my face to ask an unspoken question.

Unpacking. I can do that.

My shoulders relax. "I'll help."

And Ness smiles, his cheeks dimpling deep crimson.

Author's Note:

*Onett, Twoson, Threed, and Fourside are all cities in a country called Eagleland in Earthbound.

*In Earthbound, Ness lives in Onett.

*In Mother 3, Lucas lives in a place called Nowhere Islands. In this fic, it will be said that Lucas lives in Onett instead. This reason will be explained in due time.

*In Mother 3, Lucas has an older twin brother named Claus.

Happy reading! :)