"Ness."
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"You tried to play the hero. You tried to save the world. You tried to save the world and everyone in it. But look at me now. Here in the future, I'm more god than mortal. I have riches beyond your greatest imagination. I have an entire army under my thumb, more servants than the eye can see, thousands of loving subjects who cater to my every whim."
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"Don't you see? I won. I beat you in the end."
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"Aren't you jealous? Ha, I bet you're jealous. I bet you're seething in your grave. I stole your stupid victory away from you, right under your nose. I kidnapped the famous Doctor Andonuts. I took away everything you cared about. And all those mementos, your yo-yo, the photos from your silly adventures... they're mine to keep! Because I'm a king, and you're just a lame loser. Haha. Ahahahaha! Spankety, spankety, spankety!"
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"...Don't look at me like that. You have no right to- You're dead! So stop looking at me like that! Stop haunting me! I did nothing wrong. It was you! You made me do this, you... left me..."
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"Huh? That thing standing over there? That's my adorable little monster."
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"Its name was... Claus? Haha, that almost sounds like a person's name! But now it's my robot. Not even a fragment of life remains inside it. It's Master Porky's slave robot! It does whatever I say! It acts on my will alone. It's my double. It doesn't know anything about who you are! It's just a broken piece of trash. Aha. Ahaha!"
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"Ness, let me ask you... When a toy breaks, do you know what I do with it? I... what? Fix it? Don't be stupid. I replace it with a new one. Lucky this model came in a twin pack. So here's my new toy. What do you think? Do you like it?"
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"Say hello, Commander."
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~Chapter Twenty-Six~
The Things That Matter Most
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Drunk on euphoria, I lie awake, a stupid grin on my face and the faint memory of fireworks crackling, popping, and whizzing in my ears. At some point, I swore that time has sped up, because the past day has elapsed in fast forward. Past colors, sounds, and impressions blur together in no meaningful order. Ness's laughter. The taste of strawberry pops on my lips. New Years Eve seems to have passed into New Years in the blink of an eye.
I can't remember having so much fun on this day.
It's hard to believe that exactly one year ago, I'd stood beside my father in the Buddhist temple, eyes downcast in silent vigil. Every year, I'd refused any of Ness's offers to hang out over Christmas break. I'd refused help. I'd refused to be happy. My mother had died so that I could live; being happy on her deathday seemed like a sacrilege to her memory.
Yet this year, I had the audacity not to return home and disrespect her name.
I uneasily fidget in my sheets. A nagging feeling tells me that my mother would've wanted me to be happy, that my mother would've wanted me to move on... but I have no real way of knowing for sure. I catch Ness sleeping in the corner of my eye, and my smile fades. I have a strong suspicion that my dad would disapprove of our relationship. Would my mother have thought the same?
I wish she were alive to answer.
With a gentle hum, my phone vibrates on the bedside cabinet. Reaching over, I turn it off.
"Happy New Years, mom," I say softly.
Ness snores on.
I shut my eyes.
We have different ways of showing affection to each other. Ness is freely affectionate where I'm reserved. I question everything I feel, because it's easier for me to break my emotions down to the heart of the problem. I guess I like to think that there's a reason behind everything I feel, because it gives me control over my life.
But above all, I'm afraid to love. Because I've learned my lesson early on. Because I've learned that all relationships are temporary. There's no point in forging new friendships when nothing is permanent. It hurts too much whenever I lose someone. My mother. My brother. Even my father in a distant sense.
Something bad always happens to the people I love.
So when Ness falls asleep, I shake because I don't know how this particular relationship will end. I don't want it to end. I'm happy because Ness is happy, I'm happy because Ness is here, and I want this feeling to last.
I've already lost so much.
I don't want to lose any more.
As if this can shield him against the forces of evil, I involuntarily curl around Ness tighter. He's mine. I want to make him happy. I want to keep him safe. Above all, I'm not going to let anyone take this smol bean away from me.
This smol bean is mine.
Ness stirs. "Hiii," he says sleepily. I glance down at him, but stifle a grin because Ness is half-asleep, clearly delirious and not-so awake. He flops his arm up to ruffle my hair, except that his hand falls short and clumsily paps me in the cheek. "Dun worry, Lookas. I protecc you... buh lemme smash first...zZZ..."
...Did he just quote an old meme?
I laugh under my breath. Ness sleep-talks about the strangest things. With the Year of the Dog around the corner, I guess the doge memes ARE fitting for the occasion. Careful not to disturb him, I nudge his hand off my cheek, but Ness mumbles something else under his breath (so deep much wow) and wraps his arms around my shoulders. Alas, he protecc but he also attacc.
As if on cue, sleep-talking Ness decides to go on the offensive. "...PKAY FIRE," Ness says almost angrily before flopping onto my back like a security blanket. "PKAY FIRE, FIRE, FIRE."
I really hope he doesn't set the bed ablaze.
Something stirs in our empathy link, and Ness squirms around in his sheets. The little flashes I manage to catch are chilling. Another nightmare? Cold sweat beads his forehead, moisture dripping from the tips of his black bangs.
Deciding to intervene before Ness kicks me in his sleep, I gently prod him in the chest. "Stop spamming PK Fire, Ness."
"PGAY FIRE. Ogay." Smacking his lips together, Ness rolls back over to his side of the bed... then jerks awake. Flailing around in a dazed frenzy, Ness mutters under his breath and starts patting around the top of the bed sheets as if searching for something... or someone.
Though I have no idea what his vision was about, we've shared enough nightmares about the Ruined Zoo.
I think I have a pretty good idea of what's going on.
"Hi, I'm here, I'm real," I mumble when he clumsily fumbles for my face. Taking a few seconds to search my eyes, Ness breathes out an audible sigh of relief and lets go.
Funny enough, despite all the mass panic, Ness must not have remembered his nightmare either because he continues sitting on the bed, startled stupid. "Whudd jusd habben," he says groggily instead, the back of his hair sticking up like a porcupine, and I crack up for real because with all that noise, he woke HIMSELF up. It must suck to be a sensitive sleeper.
"You were saying dank memes in your sleep."
The confusion clears up from his face, and Ness groans. "Oh god nod again," Ness complains, but too tired to deal with my laughing, he snuggles closer to drape his arm over my shoulders. "S'op giggling ya derp. C'mere."
He's right. All thoughts can wait until morning.
Still, the nagging feeling refuses to leave, so early in the morning, I tie my laces and go running in the nearby park. It was there while catching my breath, I bump into a bearded old man with thick owlish glasses.
"You!" he bellows, strutting over and startling me with the thunderclap of his heavily-accented voice. "It's about time. Where have you been?"
With no one around, it takes me a while to realize that he's speaking to me.
A heavy frown weighing upon his tanned features, the old man taps me on the shoulder, and I jump upright. Upon closer look, underneath his worn brown-tipped fedora, the old man is built like an aged lumberjack, sturdy but steady. His short neatly-trimmed white beard travels across from ear to ear.
"Well don't stand there. Help me," he says, impatiently thrusting his heavy pail of water in my face.
I try to come up with an explanation that he's got me pegged for the wrong person, but before I can think the words through, the old man's already gone through the forested trail, leaving the pail of water sloshing at my feet. I eye the bucket suspiciously, but something tells me that the old man isn't a threat. Maybe it's the snow white beard. Or the fact that he resembles a fit Santa Claus. Or the Old Man of the Sea.
Something compels me to listen to him.
So I hoist the pail up and follow.
Bare in the season of winter, cherry blossom trees sprinkle the pebble-beaten path with snow. The corner of my jacket sleeve brushes against rough bark when I shoulder my way through the forest of frozen black branches. Up ahead in the clearing lies a food stand erected from wooden beams, where the old man brushes the dust off his hands. A large pink banner with bold white words flaps above the makeshift porch: どら焼き.
When I set the full bucket at the steps of the front porch and make to turn back, the old man nods in the direction of the sunrise.
"When was the last time you saw something like that? Beautiful," he sighs, lighting his pipe. "But that beauty is no match for my daughter's. Now she- she was brighter than the sun. We lived in such small village, so I told her to settle down early. Raise a household. Find a nice Japanese otoko to marry. What does she do? Hah, she refused to listen. Ran off to elope with a gaijin from the White Ship, then had the nerve to return and ask me for my blessing. Bah!" He snorts, and a spiral of smoke escapes from his pipe. "And you! When was the last time you visited your own grandfather?"
"You've got the wrong person. I'm not your grandson," I say patiently, and the old man scowls at me under the brim of his brown fedora.
"The wrong person? My eyes never lie. I haven't seen your mother in years, but I know what you look like," he snorts again. But as if drifting off into thought, the old man quietly smokes on his pipe. "... your mother was right. He was all right, your father. Though I've lost touch with him too. Where is that man, I wonder? Does he not have the time to visit too? Goddammit, I miss my grandsons!" He then glances at my uncomfortable expression and barks, "Why do you look so serious?!"
"This is my usual face," I say wearily, because it's not the first, nor the last time I'll hear that question, but the old man gives me a hearty pat on the back that almost knocks me off my feet.
"You look a little pale. I'm no cook like your mother, but she got the magic touch from somewhere," he says, and hobbles into his store. "We open at ten, so the red bean paste isn't ready, but by the Dark Dragon if I'm not treating my own grandson." Outside the food stand, I watch as he struggles to crack open the eggs and mix the batter, but when I tell him not to go through the trouble, that I have to leave soon, he drowns me out with a loud declaration of his own.
"If you feel bad about me cooking, then you tell your mom to bring her sons to see her pops," he says, threateningly waving his wooden spoon in my direction.
Resigned, I let him cook.
With a sharp sizzle, he pours the dough onto the hot pan in little circles. The mouthwatering aroma of butter intensifies. With a hum and a self-satisfied smile, the old man wraps several golden-brown pancakes with wax paper before he thrusts them into my hands. "Eat while hot."
Something about the forlorn expression on his face does me in.
Piping-hot and steaming in the air, I blow into them and take a tentative bite. Light and airy like a spongecake, the fluffy cakes melt in my mouth. They're a strong contender for my mom's omelettes... or of what little I can remember of them.
I've never tasted anything so delicious.
"You take after your mother," the old man says, watching me closely. "She liked sweets."
While I know that he's clearly mistaken me for his grandson, his words send a warm flutter in my stomach. "Really?" I say softly.
"Oh yes. And her smile. You have your mother's smile. There's no mistaking that." Underneath his brown faded fedora, the old man has surprisingly kind blue eyes. The corners of his sunburnt eyes crinkle in a smile. "My daughter was a rebel, but she faced hard times with her head held high. Proud, yet gentle. She believed that love could overcome. She believed that love could conquer hate and prejudice. What is the point of a life without love?" The old man wistfully glances at the pancake store. "Dorayaki... This was my daughter's favorite snack. I used to make it for her all the time before... before..." His eyes turn distant. "I don't remember... I don't remember a lot of things these days." He frowns, then squints at me through his glasses. "...Who are you again?" He laughs when I open my mouth to respond, then clears his throat. "Just kidding. I can never forget what my grandsons look like. Ahh... Life is too short to worry about the things that don't matter. So why the long face?"
"I told you, this is my usual face," I groan.
He tuts, shaking his head. "So you say," he says, pointing a crooked thumb my way. "But you can't fool this old man. Your eyes don't lie. That's the magic of someone in love." When the back of my neck burns, the old man laughs. "That's love. What a wonderful thing to love and to be loved... a wonderful, wonderful thing. But ah, it's terrifying! When you fall hard for someone, you don't know which way you're falling: Up, down, left, right...!" With a goodhearted chuckle, he motions to the pail of water with a wave of his hand. "But I learned... The things that matter most in life require work. Sweat and toil will till the soil, as I say! You have to work hard and work smart to reap the rewards. That goes for everything in life. Well, except for saving your progress. That one's easy... just find someone who will listen to your story. Whenever I'm lonely, I talk to anything around me. Plants. Animals. Listen carefully, grandson." He crouches on his dirt-stained sandals. "Here, come. I'll teach you a tip - Talk to frogs. Especially baby frogs. It's not too tedious or troublesome, so you should try it out. Talk to frogs as often as you can. Ah, and saving your progress is free. It won't cost you money to talk about the past."
"Er... I'll keep that in mind."
Satisfied by my–albeit baffled–response, the old man lowers his pipe. "Excellent. Nothing is more important than family. So stop by next time with your mother. You'll do that... won't you now?"
"Alec! There you are!"
We turn around. A young man in a pink dorayaki apron skids in front of the porch, glasses askew and clearly out of breath.
"How many times did I tell you, we open at ten, not eight! The sweet bean filling isn't ready yet-" The worker catches sight of me with a groan. "Oh great Ganondorf, did the old man drag you out here? For Christ's sake, Alec, you can't drag every boy off the street and claim that he's your grandson-"
"Does he have a grandson?" I ask, watching the part-time worker push a clueless Alec stumble back into the food stand. For some reason, the sight makes my heart sink.
The worker shakes his head. "Never. I've worked with Alec at this store for the past nine years. He talks constantly about his daughter, her husband, and his two grandsons, but as far as I know, no one's come by to see him. I don't think he's got a family. Poor guy. The old man's brilliant at baking, but between you and me, he's got a touch of Alzheimer's," the worker pants, ushering the lost-looking man back into the store when Alec tries to walk back out. "It's addled his brains. He's really a sweet guy, but he thinks that everyone he sees is his grandson-"
"Listen. This boy is my grandson," Alec says stubbornly, pointing at me. "I'm never wrong."
"If he's given you anything for free, take it as a free sample," the worker says hastily when I reach for my wallet. "But like I said, the sweet bean filling isn't ready, and we're not opening shop until ten, so if you want anymore dorayaki, you'll have to wait-"
"And tell your mother to stop by too," Alec yells hoarsely, waving around an arm as if oblivious to the volume of his own voice.
My throat turns dry, but somehow, the words spill out of my mouth on their own accord. "If.. i-if I see my mom again... I'll tell her to stop by."
The old man breaks into the brightest, toothiest grin I've ever seen him give.
Feeling like my throat constrict, I turn on my heel, retracing my steps through the frozen cherry blossom forest.
In my hands, the heat of the forgotten pancakes stings my fingers.
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~oO0Oo~
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"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention please. SkyTrain One-Nine-Nine-X on Platform Twelve from Smash City to... Street Fighter Dojo, Japan... will be departing in ten minutes. Thank you, and have a safe flight."
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"Welcome to the SkyTrain. Please stand behind the yellow line."
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"Good morning. This is the SkyTrain One-Nine-Nine-X on Platform Twelve departing to... Street Fighter Dojo, Japan. Our next destination... Onett."
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~oO0Oo~
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"-in the living room. It's the black cord, not the red–No, mom, that's the Wii cable-"
"Trace, did you steal my Runaway Five shirt? That was my favorite one-"
"Down boy, down. Mom, I think King's hungry, he's trying to eat the carpet off the floor-"
"No, you can keep it, I was just joking. Aw, so you do love me. What? What d'you mean you don't? Hey, ow, don't punch me-"
"Yeah, that one. Tracy can help you connect the laptop to the tv when she stops abusing me-"
"King, here boy, I got you dinner. Now stop demolishing the furniture you lazy shit–Yeah, I love you too. Hey, stop licking me, noO-"
"Wait, you didn't need to take over the dishes, I was just about to finish them-"
...
"Hey, you okay?"
...
"Lucas."
Just as I notice that I'm squeezing the shit out of the poor detergent bottle in my hand, Ness cranes his head over to peer at the sink. As if sensing my disquiet, Ness presses his cheek against the side of my shoulder, and the tips of his black bangs droop downwards like a corgi lowering its ears. "What's wrong?"
I left my father slaving away at our debt. I refused to honor my mother's name. I let my brother take his own life.
I wasn't trying to hide anything.
I just didn't know what to say.
The words tumble out before I can stop them. "I'm fine. Just zoned out." I twist myself around to escape his grip, but Ness traps my face in his hands.
"Hey. Look at me." Concern radiates in his eyes as he searches my face, and I avert my own eyes. "I know the past few days have been a lot to take in. Like, wooo, parents, people... more people," Ness adds somewhat awkwardly with air quotes, and I can't help but snort along. "And... and I was there when Porky dropped that massive bomb on you. It's totally fine. I get it. Just let me know if you need some space, okay?"
I manage a smile. "Thanks. I'll let you know."
Ness gives me this unconvinced look, but to my surprise, he drops the issue, instead grabbing me by the forearms to pull me into a hug. The whoomph of momentum sends a flurry of rainbow soap bubbles flying from my detergent bottle, floating and popping on his black hair. "Well, like I said, I'm here if you wanna talk," he mumbles, then awkwardly patting me in the back, plods off to help his panicking mother (Ness, do we unplug the Wii? But all these cords look the same-).
Recalling his slumped shoulders and tired eyes after an emphatic healing, I know I don't want to burden Ness with anything else. I don't want to burden him emotionally. Physically. Financially. Not when it's my tragedy to bear... The same way I have to pay off Porky's debt and clear my father's name on my own. The quicker I do, the safer I will be, and the safer Ness and his family will be.
I don't want to be at anyone's mercy.
I don't ever want to feel helpless again.
So I focus on taking off one load off my chest, one at a time. I don't have time to mourn when making money is a more pressing matter, and as horrible as I feel, catering to Ness's needs might have to take a backseat until my father's debt has been paid.
But when Ness scurries back over to sneak in another hug, it eases the constricted feeling in my chest. Just a little. My heart a bit lighter, I stack the rest of the clean dishes into the dishwasher just as Ness's mom hurries into the kitchen with a noise of dismay.
"What are you doing here? Did my son put you up to this?" When I try to tell her that this was all done on my own accord, Ness's mom impatiently pushes me away. "Aiyah, that lazy boy."
"Ness started the dishes, I only took over-"
"I keep telling him not to leave things half-finished. It's bad work ethic," His mother continues as if not taking in my words, but her eyes turn warm. She turns around to glance at me, and lowers her voice. "Ness told me that you're heading home right afterwards... but we'll probably be up late tonight. If you decide to change your mind anytime, you're welcome to sleep over-"
"I'll think about it," I say softly, because despite her good intentions, Ness's mom looks stressed out, with her disheveled blond hair and bags under her eyes. I don't want to overstay my welcome. "Thank you for the trip. I had a lot of fun."
Ness's mom breaks into a beaming smile, a split replica of her son's. "Oh? I'm glad to hear that. Lots of fun is good." She pats me on the cheek, and giving me a stern look, swipes the detergent bottle from my hands. "Thank you, Lucas dear. You've already done enough. Now go brush your teeth, scoot."
Mildly chastised, I grab one of Ness's towels and climb upstairs towards the familiar sound of bickering.
Since I'm over at Ness's place for the time being, I get the rare chance to observe the Wild Ness in his natural habitat.
For whatever reason, Ness is in a good mood, and the signs are hard to miss. He's practically bursting at the seams from happiness, jumping around like he's got no stamina to lose and singing crappy pop songs into his toothbrush. Though when he points at his own reflection in the mirror and starts yelling yOU ARE THE DANCING QUEEEEEEEN, yOUNG AND SWEET ONLY SEVENTEEEEEEN at the top of his lungs, Tracy draws the line and storms into the bathroom to tell him off, because can't he see that she's taking a phone call from Elizabeth and oh my god, how gay can he possibly get?
Amidst the hullabaloo, I finish flossing, wash my hands, and oh... I think they're still at it. Sure enough, here comes Ness's mom fuming on cue with her wrath of a thousand monsoons.
"How many times do I have to tell you two to behave? We have guests over," Ness's mom shouts, nabbing both wincing siblings by the ear.
"What guest?" Ness whines.
"Yeah, Lucas is family," Tracy grumbles.
"If you two behave half as much as Lucas does, then the house would be nice and quiet. Look at him! He's so kind and polite. What a gentleman."
Then the back of my neck burns because I did not expect to be dragged into this mess as a "role model of excellent behavior" yet again, and Ness snickers into his palms. Shaking her head, Ness's mom makes her way down the stairs in a huff.
Dashing to the edge of the 2nd floor balcony, Ness leans over the railing. "It's okay, I'm your favorite son," he chirps after her.
"I don't take favorites," His mom sniffs, but stops to fondly ruffle his hair when Ness clambers down the stairs after her to demand affection.
"Favorite son? Ha, you might as well be good as dead now that Lucas is here," Tracy sniggers after her brother, and I hastily escape from the bathroom before this starts another row with me stuck in the middle.
My escapade doesn't go unnoticed. When Ness finally dives back into his bedroom, he flashes me another one of his stupid dopey grins before marching over to slide my laptop aside.
Recognizing his intentions, I swallow down my nerves when he crawls over my legs. "Not here, your sister's next door-" I manage before Ness grabs me over by the face and kisses me hard.
I think my face is permanently stuck with this stupid flush. Forever.
Then Ness pulls back. "Is this okay," Ness asks breathlessly, his eyes searching my face. He fumbles for my wrists to give them a small squeeze, and I know it's his way of saying, you're in charge, let's do this your way.
I slowly slide my hands up his back and ease him into a gradual hug.
Despite me being an awkward mess of arms and legs, Ness relaxes with a sigh, melting into me when I feel him over his shirt. I can count every muscle underneath my hands. I can feel every hot spark of magic that fizzles and pops from his hair into my skin like static electricity. Upon contact, the glowing circles burst into happy mini fireworks, heating up my face.
Then something catches underneath my fingertips on his back, right under the nape of Ness's neck. With a frown, I brush through his hair over the faint indent. It's an old scar from an empty ink pen, unkind letters that someone cruel carved into his skin, a lasting memento of his childhood underdog days before magic entered his life. The injury is long gone, the words faded away into obscurity, but the scar itself hasn't disappeared.
A lump rises in my throat.
As if reading my mind, Ness twists himself around to catch my hand.
"It's okay," Ness murmurs kindly, even though it's really not, the idiot never should've stood up for me in school, not when he was shit at a fistfight then, so I pull him closer. He breaks into a giant grin, slightly lopsided and a tad bit cocky, before tilting his head. "Hell yeah, I showed them not to mess with us," he puffs up with pride, and I roll my eyes.
"They beat us up, Ness."
"Well, for ten against two, at least we gave it our best shot," Ness says softly, now reaching up to ruffle his fingers through my hair. With a pleased hum, I bury my face into his shoulder. I might've forgotten many things, but this is one moment I don't plan to forget.
Then Ness flashes me a shit-eating grin and pinches me in the inside of my thigh.
"Ow, what the hey," I complain, slapping his hand off.
"Happy St. Patrick's day!"
I press my palms into his stomach in retaliation, and Ness squeaks when I pin him flat against the floor. "It's January, you dolt."
"Time out, time out, your hands are like fucking glaciers," Ness yelps, squirming around in my hold. Satisfied, I let him go, and when Ness cuddles back against my side, trapping my hands in between his, my heart jumps into my throat.
Then Tracy's yell interrupts the quiet with a Ness, you're gonna miss movie time!, and without missing a beat, Ness answers her in a yell of his own, clumsily pulling me up and accidentally tripping over my feet.
Though an unexpected surprise awaits us in the living room.
"New Years is important to celebrate with family, and Ness is turning eighteen this summer, so I decided that we should watch some home videos instead. We've got some short tapes of everybody. That should last us a good two hours," Ness's mom says brightly, hooking the old CANON camera up to her laptop much to our collective horror.
"Sure thing, mom," Ness says with feeble bravado, though his forehead is starting to bead with sweat. Through the corner of his mouth, he surreptitiously leans over and hisses at his sister, who was wearing a painfully fake smile herself, "Heyyy. What's the plan?"
"Easy." Tracy hisses back. "We crawl out the window, you teleport us out, and we make a break for it. Then we'll make our living on the streets as homeless fugitives camping out at the local Kentucky Fried Chicken."
"What about Lucas?"
"I'm sorry, brobro, but we gotta sacrifice him. Someone has to stay and act as a decoy so that mom won't notice that we're all missing."
"Wait, why do I have to act as the decoy?" I furiously whisper back.
"I can hear you three, you know," Ness's mom smirks, and we all clam up. Though the smirk slides off her face as she turns around, anxiously glancing at us. "We're so busy throughout the school year that I thought... well, we can watch a movie instead, if that's what you kids prefer-"
Tracy pretends to give a huge sigh before flouncing into the living room. "Well, if we hafta watch this, we might as well enjoy it- I call dibs on the pink armchair!"
"Oh no you don't," Ness cries, diving into the lone seat, and Ness's mom hurries over to delegate her children. Eventually, after an intense game of thumb-wrestling, Tracy takes the lone armchair, and the rest of us share the couch with Ness sandwiched in the middle. Though Tracy does volunteer to flick the lights off for us, submerging the entire room in the warm glow of the TV.
A whir. A click.
Then the first clip plays.
A boy, no older than ten, happily shouts into the camera. His lopsided cap, too big for his head, droops comically over his dark bangs and tilts to the side of his face. Then he beams widely, showing a gap between his teeth. "Hi mom!"
"Shh, pretend I'm not here."
"But mooom, you are here."
"How old are you, Nessie? How old?"
Little Ness frowns, taking a long time to ponder over the question. "...Huuh?" he says blankly, and his mother repeats the question off screen. Brightening up, Ness proudly thrusts nine fingers into the air. "I'm... this many!"
Next to me, Ness groans and covers his face, peering at the TV between the gaps of his fingers. "God, this is so cringeworthy," he whimpers, and I can't help but laugh.
But when the camera refocuses, it turns out that I've laughed too soon.
"My name is Mess," Little Ness declares loudly, thumping a hand into his tiny chest. "And dis... dis is Lookas. Lookas is my bestest friend. Say hi, Lookus!" The camera runs wild as to my utter mortification, my elementary school self squeaks and hides behind Ness's back. "Lookus doesn't like cameras. I think he's shy," I hear little Ness telling his mom, and next to me, Ness snorts with laughter. My face bright red, I watch the TV for a few minutes as little Ness and his mom try to coax me into view.
Slowly, a small scruffy kid with tufted blond hair emerges rather timidly from behind Ness's back. "...Hi."
"Awww, you were so much cuter as a kid," Ness laughs out loud, and mortified beyond belief, I elbow him in the side.
A click. The camera blacks out into another clip. This time, a playground with bright yellow monkey bars and an obnoxiously red slide. The lens zooms in on two kids sleeping in a jungle gym. When Ness's mom walks closer, her shoes crunching on what sounds like gravel, little Ness stirs from slumber.
His mom sounds like she's trying not to laugh. "Hello Nessie. What are you up to?"
"Shh Mom," Ness says, bringing a finger to his lips and sounding immensely irritated much to my amusement. "Lucas is sleeping."
"He is?"
"Yeah, he's trying to sleep. It's reaaaally important not to wake him up," Little Ness stresses, looking over his shoulder to my face. "See, he's tired."
The camera shakes as Ness's mom walks closer. "Okay, then let's bring him back home-"
Instantly, little Ness turns his back to the camera, blocking me from view. "Noooo," he whines.
"Sweetie, it's getting dark. Lucas has to go home." An arm appears in the side of the screen, but Little Ness fends it off with another loud whine of protest.
"Does he have to go home NOW?"
"You see him everyday at school, honey."
"But we don't have school tomorrow. It's the weekend." Little Ness sulks, turning on his sad pouty eyes onto full max. "Mommy, can't he stay?"
"We don't want Lucas's family to worry."
"But he's my BEST FRIEND," Little Ness emphasizes importantly before puffing up his cheeks.
"Then let's see if Lucas is free Sunday. If you two finish your homework by tomorrow, we'll come out here to play," Ness's mom suggests off screen.
"...with Tracy," Little Ness adds, suddenly looking worried as if his mother's forgotten about the existence of his little sister, and Ness's mom chuckles.
"With Tracy," his mother agrees, and Ness brightens up almost immediately.
Beside me, his eyes just as bright, Ness rests his head on my shoulder, his attention glued to the screen.
We've shared quite a history.
There's some other scenes that follow in no chronological order. Tracy's first day at elementary school. Ness giving his little sister a piggy back around the backyard. Ness bottle-feeding a toddler Tracy at his mother's insistence (...and failing miserably). It's just as prominent as the absence of Ness's father, but for the most part, one thing is clear.
I'm there.
I'm not sure if Ness's mom edited the compilation of videos for our viewing, but the general gist is there. I'm a part of Ness's family, just as much as I consider him a part of mine.
I think back to the crumpled family photos on the mantelpiece at home. Once folded neatly in the slip of my father's breast pocket to keep at all times, those relics are all that are left of my family history. No recordings. No videos. I've all but forgotten what my mother's laughter sounds like, what my father's smile looks like, how my brother used to comfort me when I cried over the smallest things. The smell of my brother's hair. The taste of my mother's omelettes. The sound of Boney's barking, the way he used to wag his tail in welcome and pant with his tongue out of his mouth when my father returned home from work.
But the screen in front of me flashes with Ness's excited face dragging me to the zoo in a field trip, both of us bobbing in the bright yellow plastic hats of our elementary school uniforms, and my heart grows warm like I've drunk a hot cup of tea. I might not remember much about my own childhood before my mother's death, but I have these fond memories.
All too soon, the last clip closes with a sniffling Tracy who's scraped her knee (Tracy puffs her cheeks up and pretends to look away in a huff, though I catch a small smile on her face), and her brother tending to her injuries with his magic. "It's okay, it'll be okay," he says, kissing her on the knee (now it's Ness's turn to groan at the cheese), and on that final word, the TV fizzles out into black.
Tracy sits up from her armchair. "Are you guys done with the popcorn?"
"Yeah, we got some left."
"Fork it over," she demands, flouncing over to stuff both of her hands into Ness's stash, and with a playful frown, Ness yanks the ceramic bowl away.
"Get your own, you fatso," he pretends to complain, and as if setting off a chain reaction, the siblings are rolling around on the living room carpet, squabbling like a pair of geese over a piece of bread.
But Ness lets his sister win.
Always.
Pleased with her status of alpha sibling, Tracy leaps up with her spoils to boast her victory to their mother. Lying backfirst against the floor, Ness catches my eye with a knowing grin, and rolling my eyes, I grin back.
"Mom, you dun hafta drive, I can teleport Lucas home," Ness persists once the dishes are cleared and a satisfied Tracy quits bugging their mother. "It's faster, and you don't have to dress out of your jammies. Please? I promise I'll be quick-"
"Not this time. I need to talk to him about some things. Alone," Ness's mom adds firmly, and I can almost see the dismay crash out of Ness in droves.
Noticing her crestfallen brother, Tracy flounces back over. "...Can't Lucas stay over?" she begs, puffing up her cheeks, and despite my nerves, I have to stifle the urge to laugh, because Ness has started to puff up his cheeks in an identical pout.
Catching wind of my thoughts, Ness rolls his eyes before stepping closer. His fingers are nervously fidgeting at his side as if fighting off the urge for a hug, or maybe for something more, but with his mom and sister here, his courage is shot.
So instead, Ness raises his hands to fiddle with the brim of his hat. "Stay safe... okay?" he says somewhat awkwardly.
"Yeah. You... sleep well," I say just as stupidly.
"Now kith," Tracy pipes up, and when Ness gives into an exasperated groan, his little sister turns to him with an innocent blink. "What? Do you want me and Mom to leave so you two can snog-"
"I'LL SEE YOU AFTER WINTER BREAK, LUCAS," Ness says rather loudly, dragging his sister up the stairs, his face suddenly red.
I mumble a goodbye that goes unheard, equally embarrassed and aware of Ness's mom watching our exchange.
"Well, we'd better get going," Ness's mom says cheerfully, and I give her a nervous nod.
My anxiety rises with the car ride.
Uncomfortably settling into the front seat, I try not to think of Ness's mom in the driver's seat, and inwardly wish that Ness was here to diffuse the tension. I'm not sure what Ness' mother wants to talk to me about, especially since our last one-on-one had turned into a muddled mess of feelings.
A light drizzle peppers the windows with a rhythmetic ratatatatat. The windshield wipers squeak back and forth. The radio crackles like a candle, its muted voices rising and falling with intonation.
"I heard that you have business with Porky Minch," Ness's mom speaks.
I grimace. "That's... one way to put it."
Tapping her fingers on the wheel, Ness's mom purses her lips. "When Ness was younger, our family was once in debt to Aloysius. Porky's father," she adds bitterly when I look confused. "My ex managed to pay it off, but it wasn't an easy task. And in your case... Porky's charges seem to be short of illegal."
"Porky tricked my father. I don't know the details, but if I try to expose Porky for his crimes, he might press the same charges against my dad for signing an illegal contract. The only difference is that Porky has connections with the police to bail himself out of jail. I can't promise the same for my dad."
"Your safety comes before any financial obligations. If you ever feel like your life is in danger, contact the police."
"I've tried. The police haven't done anything to help."
"Then start keeping a record of other offenses Porky makes against you. If he continues to harass you, try to file for a restraining order."
I'm highly skeptical that a mere piece of paper saying SWIPER-NO-SWIPING would stop Porky from making my life miserable, but I don't voice my doubts. "That's what your son suggested," I say instead.
"That's good to hear."
The radio drones on. "...On one-oh-three-point-five, SnapPop has leaked data from over 80 million users for profit, selling information to 3rd party companies for a $1 per profile. Tonight, we talk about the ramifications of this leak on individual privacy rights in Smash City-"
"Is your father home?" Ness's mom asks.
"I think so."
"Does he know about...?"
I don't need to ask what she's referring to. "...No."
"If you told him, would he take the news well?"
No son of mine is a faggot.
My stomach does an uncomfortable flip. "I'm not sure."
Her voice softens. "The security code on our lock is two-one-nine-nine-nine-two."
...huh?
I turn to stare at her.
Her eyes on the windshield, Ness's mom pulls the car into a gentle turn out of the new freeway. "If you ever find yourself in danger, don't be afraid to tell us. Even if I'm at work, you have Ness's number. So call us. Or come straight to the house. Now that you know our combination code, you're welcome to stay over at our place for as long as you want." Glancing my way, Ness's mom breaks in the sly smirk reminiscent of her son's. "Just don't sneak out through the back anymore, all right," she says goodnaturedly, making me flush in realization.
So she knew.
My face boiling up with warmth, I stammer out a mortified "Right," and Ness's mom breaks into a small laugh.
.
.
.
~oO0Oo~
.
.
.
Nuss 10:24PM
my mom's back
did u get home safe
Lookas 10:31PM
I did thanks
Nuss 10:31PM
HOORAY
UR ALIVE :D
Lookas 10:31PM
Actually
wait
Nuss 10:31PM
wats up
Lookas 10:32PM
I think imready
Wanna introduce you to my family
Nuss 10:35PM
oh
OH
erm
I hate to be a negative nelly
but i think ur dad already hates me
Lookas 10:38PM
It'll be okay. I'll explain later
Are you free to hang at 10 tomorrow?
Nuss 10:38PM
course I am
anything for you babe
Lookas 10:39PM
gae
Nuss 10:39PM
ASDFGHJKKPL WHAT DID YOU CALL ME
DID YOU JUTS CALL ME GAE
LUCAS PLZ
oh waIT
so
it IS ok if i call u bae? :D
SCORE lemme change ur name in mycontacnts
Lookas 10:40PM
-_-
no
Nuss 10:40PM
:))
hey look
a doublr chin emoji
Lookas 10:40PM
:)))
Nuss 10:40PM
:))))
Lookas 10:41PM
:)))))
Nuss 10:41PM
ilove roy
Lookas 10:41PM
Wow
that was unexpected
Nuss 10:41PM
FUCK NO
I MEANT
ilove roy
Lookas 10:42PM
Who doesn't, really
Personally I'm more of a Nightwing fan
Nuss 10:42PM
NO
STOPPIT LUCAS
okay gimme a sec
lemme type this out with both hands
ilbiyu
*ulpceuuu
DAMN IT AUTOCORRECT U HAD ONE JOB
ONE
Lookas 10:51PM
haha are ufalling asleep again
Go home Nus
Nuss 10:57PM
but
BUT
I am home
Lookas 10:57PM
Shoo
Begone spirit
When my cell buzzes, screen lighting up with an incoming call, I press it against my ear in surprise. "Hey-"
"Alubyu," Ness spews out rather quickly, his voice breathless. "Just wanted you to know. Because. Okay? Okay."
"Ness, speak slower. I didn't catch what you said-"
"AND I DON'T LOVE ROY!"
The phone clicks off.
Author's Note:
When people have more free time, their minds tend to wander more.
*In Mother 3, Alec is the GRANDADDD of Lucas
*Gaijin = foreigner. Often associated with a negative context/tone (i.e. "us" vs "them" mentality)
*Otoko = informal way of saying da 'young man'
*どら焼き = Dorayaki (fluffy pancake-like food/snack)
*According to a Japanese myth, the cherry blossom tree (Sakura) grows over wherever someone has died. The tree represents the renewal and reincarnation of a soul. Though Mother 3 symbolizes this with sunflowers, I wanted to tie in something closer to Lucas's heritage, and cherry blossoms are sacred to Japanese culture.