It's done.
Master Hand's taken out paid meals from our benefits.
Though I've expected the budget cut for a while, my heart sinks at the updated Cost of Attendance glaring up at me from Ness's TI-85 calculator. With the expanding roster and the upcoming introduction of Smash Ultimate, Master Hand has to cut something from our benefits. With over 50 fighters, funding meals isn't cheap, and the cafeteria's the easiest thing to cut from his costs.
Rent, utilities, taxes, and now, food. Another concern to add to my debt.
Thinking back to my vacation splurge over winter break, I can't help but wince at how much I've spent. Movie dates are out for a long time. Time to return to packaged ramen and old blueberry pancake mix.
Despite these changes, I don't complain. As an obscure game protagonist, Master Hand offers me a generous salary than what most people in my shoes can imagine, and while Smash favors popular superstars due to branding and networking, I get (more than enough) attention.
If only I wasn't crippled by Porky's massive debt...
Still, as I pull up my bank account, the dwindling loan on my laptop makes me cautiously optimistic. I raise my eyebrows. Porky's never lowered my dad's debt before. Maybe he's finally had his fill of watching me struggle. Maybe he's grown bored of dragging me through hell and back to repay an impossible debt, a debt whose ridiculous interest Porky spikes up whenever he feels like it: a sum Porky demands that just barely covers the rest of my pay from paycheck to paycheck. Maybe for once, Porky is actually feeling sympathetic.
I doubt it.
I'll believe it when I see it.
But despite Porky's underhanded means, despite every illegal tactic he's pulled on me out of the book, I'm making visible progress. I'm slowly, but surely, crawling out of this hole called capitalism.
Just a little longer. A little longer, and I'll be free.
So I decide to drop the cafeteria meal plan for the upcoming year of the tournament. Free until now, I'm only surprised that Master Hand hasn't charged us yet for food with the likes of Kirby, King Dedede, and Yoshi already on the roster. While cooking takes time, it's a much cheaper alternative to meal hall swipes now. I could always mealprep on Saturdays, and cook enough to last me the week. And if worst came to worst, Ness could snag me something small from the cafeteria on desperate days.
Though knowing Ness and his unlimited meal swipe plan, I've got a suspicion that Ness would illegally try to smuggle out a treasure horde of food for me, stuffing his bag with fruits, bagels, entire loaves of bread, and icecream sandwiches if I so much as asked him for a square of packaged jam.
Recalling Tingle's eyes bulging out of his head at the offensive rule-breaking monstrosity unfolding before his eyes, and Ness's yell of sHIT! LUCAS, hE'S ONTO US, BOLT FOR IT, I stifle a laugh. Ness goes overboard over the smallest things.
Today's no different. When I crack an egg on the stove and watch my french toast sizzle golden brown on the pan, Ness groggily rouses himself from what looks like another nightmare. Though upon seeing me, his expression brightens up, and clamoring for attention, he skips around the apartment from the shower to the kitchen, singing (untrue) improv renditions of Lucas is awesome, Lucas is the best! Though I don't say it, his cheerful compliments - as baseless as they are - do warm me up throughout the day.
When I finish washing my dishes and remind him to do the same, Ness sneaks over to steal my hand in his, pressing the flat of it against his cheek like he's stubbornly trying to make up for lost time. As he relaxes with a happy sigh, I try not to think about my face boiling up like an active volcano and watch the circles of his magic pop and fizzle up his damp hair.
He's recharging himself through me.
He trusts me.
Feeling the back of my neck prickle with warmth, I avert my eyes to the floor. If last night was any indication, if Ness's worries and thoughts and doubts were any indication, the things that I'd thought were obvious between us - the feelings I'd taken for granted - hadn't been so obvious after all.
At the risk of sounding insecure, I'm unused to showing other people how vulnerable I feel. I'm still struggling to wrap my head around the impossible idea of someone willing to wait for me, much less of someone genuinely liking me. Despite knowing Ness for years, I need time to open up, I need time before I can feel comfortable in my own skin and voice my feelings out loud and more. Lack of self-esteem is a frightening beast that doesn't disappear in one night, and intimacy of this kind only makes me more aware of my own flaws.
But after reading Ness's mind last night, I'm trying harder to express myself in other - comfortable - ways, because emotional validation makes Ness happy and - by extension - me happy. We've learned to compromise as roommates; as far as affection goes, this isn't anything new.
My palms turn sweaty. Someone help me what am I doing I have no idea what I'm doing who am I anymore.
I can't believe I said yes... to dancing.
I shudder in horror. Ness is turning me into a sap.
But I can't seem to care.
Still I have limits on how far to stretch the cheese, and after waiting a few more seconds, pull my hand away. "...okay, that's enough. Go to breakfast," I say, prodding him aside before a betrayed Ness complains, reaching for my hands and demanding affection.
Today, he's been awfully clingy though, flitting around me in a passable impression of Navi's "hEY HEY LISSEN."
"You want me to bring you anything? Since you quit your meal plan and all..." he blurts out, anxiously watching me tug on my shoes like a worrywart. "I'm pretty good at sneaking food out-"
"I'm good, ate breakfast already-"
"Are you sure you ate breakfast?"
I glance at the sink. My clean plate speaks for itself.
Puffing up his cheeks, Ness is undeterred, thrusting a spare water bottle into my chest. "Well, take this, and make sure you hydrate yourself during the day-"
"Okay-"
"-and remember, you have a consultant meeting with Duster at one-"
"He changed the time to two-"
"-and don't forget to feed Rope Snake. He got really cranky when I accidentally stepped on his tail today-"
"You're running late," I interrupt, requesting Rope Snake to curl up with a light tap of my hand. Complaining sleepily, Rope Snake does, rolling up into the size of a snail shell like a rubber band before I pat him into my pocket.
When Ness tries to stall me at the front door, I cut to the chase with a smirk and ruffle his hair to distract him from his worries. This successfully brings out a protest of hey! and a deathglare, but not before Ness dives over to mess up my hair with both hands.
I guess I deserved that.
Through what is probably a painful smile, I try to fix my hair into something somewhat presentable, disgruntled, and Ness proudly puffs up his chest like a little git. Ness can pull off messy hair, but I'm not Ness. It takes me forever to brush my hair without looking like I rolled out of bed with a bird's nest stuck on my head.
"Are you sure you'll be okay?" This time, Ness is a little more tentative, tagging along my heels like a puppy when I pull on my shoelaces. "Did you drink enough water? Headache? Hangover?"
I brush his hand aside. "I'm okay. Go eat and warm up for your brawl."
Round-eyed, Ness watches me like I'm about to keel over at any second. He's been worrying over me ever since I had Sex on the Beach last night. "You could always use another sick day, you know Master Hand pays you for those-"
"I'm not sick. Really. I'd tell you if I was," I say firmly, reaching for the door knob. "Anyways, if you can go to work after getting full-on plastered, I'm pretty sure I can handle a glass. A lot of people drink here, Ness. No one's gonna care that I accidentally got tipsy last night-"
I freeze at the crowd huddled outside our dorm room. As if they've been waiting all morning to prove me wrong, Smashers of all shapes and sizes look at me expectantly, wielding peptobismol and heating pads and other healing aids of the like as I fall dumbstruck for words.
Then a cheerful Kirby waddles forward, thrusting out a gigantic bowl of chicken soup into my face with an offer of "Poyo?"
Sweating, I bolt back inside and shut the door to Ness's look of see, whaddid I tell ya? "...On second thought, taking that sick day doesn't sound too bad."
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~Chapter Thirty-Two~
What is Essential
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I almost regret not taking that sick day.
Almost.
For the whole morning, a different smasher flocks over during their free periods to ask how I'm holding up. Pit offers to "pray the alcohol away" with Palutena's blessing, before declaring that a hot spring would be the perfect remedy for my nonexistent hangover. Escaping from the cafeteria in a blatant show of stealing food, Ike randomly drops a heavy platter of meat into my arms before trying to bribe an indignant Tingle to look the other way. Even Cereza, the mansion's CAT, wraps her tail around my leg with an incessant purr and refuses to let go until I'm forced to run to my next brawl. By the next hour alone, I've responded to over a hundred variations of are you sURE you're okay?, been fed enough water to satisfy a starving camel, and been stuffed with so much chicken soup that I've probably eaten all three meals of the day for the whole week combined and feel too sluggish and sick to give anyone a proper fight in any of my brawls.
While I appreciate their concern, and appreciate that their concern comes from a place of good intentions, slowly, throughout the day, these offers of free food and kind words wear down my pride. I don't need charity. I don't need to be babied. I don't want to be babied. If plenty of teens have tried drinking at 16 - Ness accidentally downing several bottles of beer at 17 no less - and lived to tell the tale, then I'd like to think I can handle a glass. I'm just as capable of telling people when I need help, and if I need help. I'm sixteen, not six.
Of course, this doesn't stop Ness and everyone else from fretting and panicking over me like mother hens that've lost their heads in a zombie apocalypse.
"Ness, I'm okay," I respond like a tape recorder on repeat when he opens his mouth again to ask me about my welfare in passing. As if digesting this information for the first time, Ness finally quiets down.
Then he pipes up with the most innocent voice possible, "...Period pains?"
The bugger cackles off like a hyena when I chase him down the hall.
I think my snark's rubbing off on him.
On the other hand, this flood of fretting from friendly Smashers opens up more ridicule from the not-so-friendly Smashers. After my second brawl, I unfortunately bump into Wario - or more specifically, Wario's stomach - who seems to be more than happy to relish in my misery.
"Wah! Well, if it isn't Widdle Wucas," he jeers, and I want to internally groan at my bad luck.
"Don't you have other things to do?"
Apparently not. Wringing out every last drop of my humiliation for all it was worth, Wario mocks me with classic cliche 20th century bullying phrases like nerd and loser, and showers me in his best imitation of a baby voice before snickering under his breath like he's said the wittiest thing in the turn of the century. At one point, I catch a glimpse of his wide mouth and regret it. There's something moldy green stuck between his teeth. I think it's spinach. Ew.
I'm a firm believer of choosing my battles and of not stirring the pot, but obviously in a nastier mood than usual, Wario looks more than ready to push that line. Assaulting my ringing ears with spittle, Wario escalates his harassment to the point where I'm ducking to avoid becoming an unfortunate victim of his wet willies, when someone gladly interrupts the one-sided exchange.
"Got room for a third?"
I've never been so relieved to hear that voice.
Wario whirls around, curving his serrated teeth into shark-like grin. "WAHA! If it isn't the-a lovely Bayonetta. WAHt an honor."
"What no good games are you boys up to?" Bayonetta looks my way with a frown. "...You don't look like you're having fun."
"Can't say that I am, no," I say wearily.
"Wah! What're ya gonna do, tattle on me? Well good thing your babysitter's here, ya big baby," Wario guffaws, picking his nose. "Bayonetta, you're losing your touch. I don't get-a why Ashley fawns over-a you-"
"Well now, Ashley's a Little One. You on the other hand, shnookums-" Without breaking conversation, in the blink of an eye, Bayonetta blasts the booger off Wario's finger with her bullet arts, narrowly singing the tip of his glove, and Wario jumps. Her grin widens into a wicked curve. "I harbor no reservations. Now do I have to remind you twice not to act like an uncivilized pig, or will you walk away with your tail between your legs?"
"wAH," Wario snaps indignantly, waving a fist her way. "WAHtch it, ya witch. Yer-a breaking the rules-"
"Rules?" What seems like a hungry gleam enters Bayonetta's eyes. "My dear... witches don't follow rules."
Glancing at the smoking dud in the wall, Wario sneers. "I waHsn't doing anything anyway. Bunch of no good teacher's pet sissies-"
"Tell the big boys I said hello, little man," Bayonetta says sweetly, fluttering her lashes in a mocking manner. His pride torn into a million shreds at the jab to his height, Wario grumbles off, stewing in his foul mood and jostling me aside.
As soon as Wario vanishes around the corner, Bayonetta kisses the smoking barrel of her guns. "Mmh! I love these babies."
She's awesome, Bayonetta. Beyond awesome. "Thanks, you saved my hide again."
"From what? That cobswobbling swindler? I had a hunch he was going to outstay his welcome. He's been mighty sour ever since Luigi denied him a wedding invite." She flips her guns back into her heels with a sultry wink. "Missing the mark - such a damn pity. My aim was off by a milimeter... but what can I say? You can't always hit the G-spot."
"G spot?"
"Oh, that's-" Bayonetta pauses, and I catch a stray memory, a flash of Master Hand rebuking her for her vulgar language around minors. "...Little one." she says instead, fumbling for something else in her heel. "There are two things I detest most in this world. Cockroaches, and-"
I can't help but smile. "Crying babies."
"Exactly. And I'd rather not see Ness crying because you threw up later in the evening." With this being said, she flips a can of soup into my hands, and my face burns. "Now, my own mother once told me that this is good for hangovers-"
"Oh no," I groan. "Not you too-"
"Oh yes, me too. Lucas, you've got some explaining to do. I have no idea how you had Sex on the Beach last night-"
"But-"
"No butts! We're talking about you having Sex on the Beach, you naughty boy-"
"Bayonetta, please-" I beg, spotting other smirking smashers spy at us at the end of the hallway. Bayonetta's DEFINITELY milking this moment out. Is this what Ness feels every time his mom embarrasses him in front of me? If so, then I regret laughing at him now. "Everyone's been fretting over me since this morning, but I'm fine, really-"
"-Hush, little one- now, pour this into a bowl, microwave it for three minutes, and then-" In the blink of an eye - the guns sliding into her hands - Bayonetta fires another warning shot behind her, and knowing better than to cross her twice, the Smashers flee like marbles. I feel myself fluster. It's not over. They'll tease me again later. "-eat this while warm. Not when it's too hot, or it'll burn your tongue off-"
"Bayonetta, what on Middle Earth are you doing?" interrupts a horrified shriek.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," Unfazed by Her Royal Highness of Wisdom rushing over to us in her midnight blue slippers, Bayonetta sheathes her guns back into her heels with a cheerful smirk. "I'm teaching Lucas a valuable life lesson on target practice. You're welcome."
Glancing first at me, then at the dilapidated wall, Zelda looks distraught over the new makeover Bayonetta's given the mansion. "A-Are... are you shooting children?"
"If you count Wario as one, then yes. Taking out his teaparty grudge on other people? He's the saddest manchild I've ever had the fortune to meet."
"Bayonetta, fighting outside matches and property damage be a serious offense. This is the fourth wall you've peppered in a month-"
"You could say that I've broken the fourth wall."
I laugh. Amused as if proud of herself, Bayonetta looks at me through her hooded lids.
Zelda doesn't buy the joke. "Oh for the love of Nayru," she groans, slapping on a new WORK ORDER form over the two bullet holes embedded in the wall. "The minute Mario leaves the mansion, you of all people proceed to be a bad influence. Do behave yourself. I don't want you in trouble-"
"You wound me, darling," Bayonetta says, drawing up a hand to her own chest in mockhurt, pretending to be offended. "Of course I behave. In bed-"
Looking mortified as if Bayonetta's let the F bombs fly, Zelda claps both hands over Bayonetta's mouth, cutting her off. "Watch yourself," she commands, aghast, as if I've been completely clueless to the fact that half the mansion's been swearing like sailors in my proximity for the past 3 years. "Bayonetta, we do not imply the three-letter S word around minors here. That is highly forbidden!"
Bayonetta looks bewildered. "Three letter S word? Why, do you mean Sex? But darling, I talk about sex all the time-"
Zelda explodes. "This fic is rated T-"
I flatten myself against the wall and escape before either of them can notice.
About three brawls later, some harmless teasing from Wolf and Popo, and half an hour before Duster's meet, I trudge away from the mailroom in less-than-high spirits. Relieved to find the West Wing of the lobby devoid of people, I stop when the mansion quakes with a rumble of anger, and pull back one of the long red draperies from the windows. Ah. A thunderstorm. With what feels like detached interest, I watch the droplets chase each other down the window pane before melting into fatter droplets.
I wonder if it's also raining in Onett.
...I wonder if dad's out working again.
My chest constricts painfully from the weight of his newest letter in my pocket.
With a curious trill, Luma swirls through the air like a free musical note.
"Hello Luma," I say. In response, Luma twinkles and bobs in my face once before swaying down, snuggly settling himself into my hands. Instinctively, I close my hands around him. His magic warms up my hands like a shooting star.
Luma is here.
And if Luma is here...
"Greetings, Lucas," Rosalina brightens up when I turn to the fattest armrest by the window. As always, she's knitting something in her fingers, drawing another happy chirp from Luma, who tucks himself under her arm. "Ah, it is raining! I wish it would rain more on my planet. I'm quite fond of rain."
"I thought you were out for Luigi's wedding," I say, surprised.
"I'm here for the day. I am behind on my brawls!" Rosalina smiles. Something about watching her knit in a fat, cozy red armchair rings with serendipity, and I find myself relaxing in spite of myself.
A few minutes later, this is exactly how Samus finds us - idly watching the rain.
"Is this another meeting for Ded Mom Anonymous?" she sighs, pulling her helmet off to free her hair.
"Hitherforth! We should make a club," Rosalina suggests, waving her wand. "You could invite Ike, Marth, and half the roster to the list. That's not to exclude those with missing or forgotten parents - we must invite them too."
"I heard that you adopted Bayonetta last year."
"That I have!" Rosalina beams. "How ever did you know?"
"It's no surprise, Rosalina. You're practically everyone's surrogate mother." Samus finally tugs a tangled knot of hair free from her visor. "I swear, your influence is rubbing off on her by the day. Bayonetta seems rather comfortable in calling you Rosa."
"Rosa is her birth mother's name, is it not? And Balder her sire?"
"I think so. She constantly says that she's the child of two parents who never should've met. Bayonetta's parents were of opposite factions," Samus adds to clear my confusion. "Think about your classic Romeo and Juliet story... but with time travel, guns, and an equally unhappy ending."
"But I'm glad that her parents did meet," Rosalina says serenely. "You can never have enough good moms and dads in the universe. Personally, I'd love to have a million!"
"I'd be fine with one, thanks, but she's dead," Samus deadpans.
"I can be your mom," Rosalina offers, and Samus frowns.
"Er... thanks. But I don't need another mom-"
"I am the mother of over a thousand children, what matters with adding a few more?" Already stuck in her own universe, Rosalina beams again, turning around to face us with the happiest look on her face as if she's stumbled upon a wonderful birthday surprise. "Oh, how fortuitous I am to be one of those who love you most dearly! It is a joyous occasion, yes? Samus, it is very snowy today, let me knit you another sweater-"
Samus's face turns pink. "That's very nice of you, but don't push yourself-"
"-and Lucas needs a new scarf to protect himself from the cold," Rosalina muses, and the Luma next to her spins around in equally cheerful spirits. "Recently, I heard that Earthlings can catch colds. You humans must run very fast...!" Rosalina ponders as if in deep thought. "...Or the colds must be very slow."
"Rosalina," I say awkwardly as the excited Luma flits around my head to take approximate measurements of my arms and shoulders. "I don't think colds work that way-"
"They don't? How curious. I wonder what colds look like, but I hope I never get to find out. Preying on the sick? They must be ghastly beings, no?" Rosalina says warmly, finishing her magical scarf and sweater. After tapping one end with her wand, she watches her scarf whirl around my neck of its own accord, then studies me with satisfaction. "There we go. For some reason, Lucas, you remind me of The Little Prince whenever I see you. How quaint!"
"Fits him perfectly," Samus adds, stifling a snort when I look awkward as heck bundled up in Rosalina's oversized sweater. I have no idea how she knits so fast, or how she makes all of her clothes feel amazingly soft, but I can appreciate the love and care she puts into them. As if drawing from the power of Rosalina's love alone, the sweater poofs up around my shoulders in a warm embrace.
"Now that you're wearing these, those colds can't ambush you from behind!"
Feeling my face melt, I try to hide my embarrassment by sinking into the fluffy neck of my scarf, and mumbling my thanks into it as if it can hear me. "...the scarf. And for the Christmas sweater-"
"No need," Rosalina says heartily. "Hmm... speaking of sweaters, I heard you got the tipsies yesterday. It seems like everyone gets them at this time of year... always right after New Years-" When Samus snickers, I want to die from mortification. "Maybe I should knit you another sweater-"
"Another sweater? I'd say that Mister Prince here already has his sleeves full," Samus teases, tugging down one of the sweater sleeves riding up my arms, and I give her an exasperated look.
"First Ness, then Bayo, and now you-"
Samus punches me in the arm. Strangely enough, she reminds me of someone... someone with bubblegum pink hair and a fierce smile. "Too bad. We're still gonna check on you anyway," she smirks.
"As I've said, I've adopted thousands of children. Adopting a couple hundred more won't change a thing," Rosalina adds, waving Samus's sweater over. As if to express his joy at meeting his "newfound siblings", Luma pops up at my side with a quiet squeal, and spins around in the air in a happy dance.
"And it certainly won't change the fact that Bayonetta wants to adopt you, Lucas. I've definitely seen the adoption papers she's got for Toon Link - the better question is, when doesn't she butt heads with Zelda over his "surrogate mother" custody? - and I bet she would've adopted Ness too... but you know, Ness already has a mom-" Tugging down her own sweater, Samus pauses in a rare moment of breaking composure. "The point is, pal... don't feel like you have to do everything by yourself. I know, everyone's been mothering you today, and you're more than capable of handling your fair share, but know that you're not always alone."
"I won't take on more than I can handle," I promise.
Samus tosses Rosalina a pointed look. I don't miss it.
Instead, Samus slumps into her own armchair with a defeated sigh. "Well pal, fair point. I won't force you to talk."
"I told you, Samus. I'm fine-"
"You lost someone very recently," Rosalina says matter-of-factly, and I redden. She pauses, her knitting needles hovering over Samus's newest sweater of a Metroid. "...Was I too intrusive?"
"No, you weren't." I swallow, looking down at my shoes. It's too painful to look them both in the face. "I think... I think I'm getting over the loss easier this time, because I've always had a feeling he's been dead for a while. I just... never gained any closure over it."
Looking like she's swallowed something bitter herself, Samus gives me a gruff pat on the shoulder. "...you never really do get over it."
"...You're right. You don't." I force out the words when my throat threatens to close up. "You can't mend something that's been lost."
"Time won't mend the hole in your heart, but over time, that hole shrinks," Samus whispers.
I think of Ness, and how much time and patience he puts into making us work, and my chest constricts. "Sometimes I wish... I wish I never learned to love again. It only hurts everyone around me-"
"Yet you will love again, because it is the time you put into love that you can live." Catching my attention, Rosalina gently pats her second sweater into my arms. "My wand was a gift from my dear brother, so that I could bring magic into the life of others, and this telescope was a gift from my loving father, so that I can always see home wherever I go." With another wave of her sparkly wand, Rosalina summons something long and glassy, before offering it into my hands. " Pray take a look, Lucas. What do you see?"
I gingerly handle Rosalina's treasured telescope, making sure not to drop it. The windows rattle with a giant's handclap. Lightning flashes once, twice in the dark murky sea of clouds.
The thunderstorm's too cloudy to make out even the sky.
Doubtfully, I glance back at the window before peering into her telescope. Though I expected nothing, I'm strangely disappointed.
"I don't see anything..."
"On ne voit bien qu'avec le cΕur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux." Rosalina softly brushes the hair out of my face, her fingers ghosting by like the shiver of a butterfly's wing. "It is only in the heart that one can see rightly... What is essential is invisible to the eye."
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~oO0Oo~
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Nuss 1:50PM
hey fam
was thinkg abt movienite
movie tickets expensive af lets stay indoors
im debating b/w ToyStry3, Coco, or Over the garden wall binge this sat
get a good fuckincryfest going n stuff
what u in the mood 4
Lookas 1:52PM
dDon't you have patrol shift Sat and Sun?!
Nuss 1:52PM
yeah... but movie nite ;-;
ok its decided imma watch riteafter m shift
just
idunno
poke me awakr if I fall asleep or smthing
Lookas 1:52PM
Ness
Nuss 1:52PM
kinda leaning towrds coco cuz its on netflix butif u got ideas imall 4it
yeah?
Lookas 1:53PM
Thanks
Nuss 1:53PM
hUH
FO WHAT
Lookas 1:53PM
for everything.
Really
Nuss 1:54PM
WOT
IS THE WORLD ENDING
AHHH /LUCAS SAID SOMETHING SAPPY ASHKSFJDFS
totally gunna screenshot dis brb[
Lookas 1:54PM
Nevermind
I regret everything
Nuss 1:54PM
OH OH I SEE YOU WALKING OUTTA DA LOBBY
HI MISTER SAAPPY LUCAS :D
Nuss 1:55PM
LucaS?!
HEY DONT IGNORE ME I SEE U RUNNING AWAY
CMBK HEREULILFUCKER N TELL ME WHAT U WANNA WATCH
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~oO0Oo~
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"-'ve booked your practice matches for February. I couldn't get your first pick on the 12th, since brawls against Mewtwo run out quickly, but I snagged one solo against Lucario and another one against Ness. You probably know this by now, but the deadline to register for the Summer Tournament is coming up. Make sure to verify yourself by the 3rd month of training-" There's a rustle of paper as Duster flips over the clipboard. "-which is March. That'll give Master Hand an idea of who's competing for the Summer Tournament."
"Thanks, Duster," I say, my head still numb and fuzzy from Ness's headlock.
On the other hand, his tail twitching like a rattle, Rope Snake seems excited as if greeting an old friend, uncoiling from my pocket to curl around Duster's torso for warmth.
Much to his credit, with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands, Duster doesn't seem to mind. Except for an uncertain, "Uh, hello there. aren't you a fine snake?" (and Rope Snake boasting of his own prowess in English) Duster quickly gets over his initial shock ("What? Did you think I was s-s-sssome dumb tree gecko," Rope Snake says crossly. "I'll have you know that I'm the mossst helpful friend you'll ever find-").
If this didn't grab my attention before, it does now. Though talkative, proud, and far from shy, Rope Snake only speaks in English to people he's comfortable with.
My respect for Duster increases twofold.
"As far as details about Ultimate go, they're pretty sparse, but Master Hand's released some important pointers you should know. Like with the start of any season - aka N64, Melee, Brawl- you'll have to redo your health exam, drug screen, running time, and shield test. Now, this next part has nothing to do with the tournament itself - it's about the handheld video game features. It's a lot of information to swallow at once, but bear with me-"
Duster's not kidding. He summarizes everything from the Agents' meeting before flipping through page after page after page of paperwork, explaining and breaking down each sentence as we go.
My head spins.
"-going along with his theme of paying "homage to the original games," Master Hand's coined several people in memory as "spirits," which - along with stickers - are just fancy names for equips in the handheld game. He wants to add your mother as a spirit to the upcoming video game, to honor her memory in tandem with these conditions. Lastly, when Master Hand releases this new game to the stores, you'll be guaranteed a fixed percentage of the profit, TBD until March. This concludes the HANDHELD DEVICE AND FEATURES AGREEMENT, so sign here and date on the dotted line if you agree with the above-"
"What's the verdict for my final Smash?" I cautiously draw out, returning the signed clipboard back. "I doubt it's PK Love, Master Hand nerfed it in this universe-"
"Exactly, because Master Hand nerfed you the same way he nerfed Ness in this dimension. He denied your request. Your powers now will stay as is in the city." When I look disappointed, Duster pats me on the back. "Lucas, I don't know about magic... but from what I've seen, you'd need some otherworldly power to break that nerf... that, or special permission from Master Hand, neither of which has ever happened before. And as for other details about your Final Smash-" Duster scratches his head. "Master Hand's hinted in bringing two more people on board to help you with your PSI training." Duster pauses. The lamp light emphasizes the bags under his eyes. "Lucas, you look like you've got a question on your mind."
"Duster, when you met me for your job interview-" I hesitate. "Did you recognize me?"
"You are a celebrity-"
Catching onto the misunderstanding, I reiterate the question.
"...know you personally? I did. You and your family." Duster clears his throat with an awkward cough, and turns his head away. "I'm not sure if you remember... but you helped me when I got amnesia years ago. Afterwards, I promised I would help you save the world, but you ended up having to carry a lot of that burden on your shoulders. The Tazmily villagers- We've known that you've been here for a while. Despite how minor you claim to be, you're still a celebrity. You show up on the screens. Alec recognized you instantly the second he saw you fight in your first tournament. But when he said that you didn't recognize him last month, I figured out that something was amiss. I figured that you could use my help. Surprisingly, you hired me on the spot. Despite your amnesia, I guess a part of you still remembered me after all.
"Lucas... I don't know what you've been through, but you've done some incredible things. Incredible, amazing things. From afar, we've watched you grow up. We've watched you grow stronger. Whenever we watch you fight, there's no doubt why the elders call you the pride of Tazmily... even though some of the villagers resent you. Which I understand. We thought you were ignoring us. We thought you were too ashamed to represent such a small village and such a small game franchise. But now, I know. You've only forgotten about us instead.
"It's only fair that I repay the favor. I'll help you fight your amnesia in any way I can. But there's one problem..." Duster finishes, scratching the back of his neck. "-it seems like we've BOTH lost a good part of our memories. What do you remember about Tazmily?"
"Nothing much. Just that I grew up there-" I concentrate. "A lot of my earlier memories before Onett are hazy, especially somewhere around my mom's car accident and Claus running away to avenge her death-"
"-by challenging the Drago that killed your mother."
I pause. "I... I didn't know he did that."
"Trauma has ways of making even the wisest men forget their worst memories," Duster says gently. "Back in our world, Porky was notorious for treating everything and everyone under his hands as his own playthings. Snatching people out of different timelines, brainwashing his kidnapped prisoners, experimenting on people and animals alike for the sake of making something cool... Porky's men abused the Drago that killed your mother. This is a fact."
"This entire time, I thought my mom died in a car accident," I say numbly, but Duster's input clicks into place like a missing puzzle piece. I don't know how I know, but I know that it's the right memory. Something big and green had killed my mom... something with the loud roar of an engine...
"I'm sorry I brought it up-" he starts quickly.
"No, I needed to know. I have to figure out what happened." I scrunch my eyes. "What else do you remember, Duster?"
"Hmm... Not much else to be honest." Duster takes a moment to count the memories on his hand. "My dad. The DCMC. The Egg of Light-"
"Egg of Light?"
"Sometime before the end of our world, it previously stored the memories of the Tazmily villagers. I think- when I touched it, that Egg cured my amnesia. If we find the Egg-"
"-we might be able to restore everyone's memories," I finish, excited by the new lead. "Do you know where it is?"
"No," Duster admits, and my heart falls again. As if sensing this, he quickly continues, "In any case, with Porky and everyone else landing in this dimension, it's got to be in the city... Even though Wess told me that you and Flint landed in Onett instead, which is unusual. Perhaps Flint might know something-"
"He doesn't. We didn't even know what money was until Porky tricked him into debt," I say, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice, and perceptive to his character, Duster frowns.
"Porky tricked him?"
"I don't know the details. He won't say."
"Well... Money didn't exist in Tazmily until later, under Porky's influence," Duster admits. "So when we all arrived here - as refugees, Alec thinks - we had to start over everything from scratch... mostly. Weirdly enough, random pieces of Tazmily survived. As you've noticed, some of the cabins were empty, but intact with water and electricity. And Nippolyte the gravedigger recognized all the graves he dug - not a single gravestone was out of place. After whatever happened in the end, it was as if the village itself was waiting for us here." Duster shakes his head. "Sorry, getting ahead of myself. About Flint's debt, how bad is it?"
I tell him.
Duster turns slack-jawed from the figure. "Porky keeps jacking up the interest rate... And Flint lets him get away with it? I'm sorry, Lucas, but that makes no sense-"
"It's illegal, so if they get caught, they could both go to jail. Except that Porky's rigged the system, so he can probably bust himself out. I've been trying to pay the debt off for my dad, but we had a falling out. He recently returned my check for this month-"
"That's strange. That doesn't sound like Flint at all," Duster begins before I tug the letter out of my pocket.
lπ »ππ ²π °π
ππ Όπ °ππ · π Όπ °π ½ππ Έπ Ύπ ½: ππ Ό. 1010, 1889 π ½π Έπ ½ππ ΄π ½π ³π Ύ π Άπ °π Όπ ΄π π ²π Ύπππ,
ππ Όπ °ππ · π ²π Έππ, ππ Ύπ Όπ ±π Ύπ ²π Ύπ Όπ ±π Ύ ππ Ύππ Όπ ·π Ύπ »π ΄ π Έππ »π ΄ 00000π
π ²π ΄π ½ππ ΄π π Ύπ ΅ ππ ·π ΄ ππ ½π Έπ π ΄πππ ΄ (ππ ½π Έπ π ΄πππ ΄ π ½π Ύ. 42)
[RETURN TO SENDER!]
lπ °πππ ½ π ΅π »π Έπ ½π
π °π »π Ώπ ·π °π ±π ΄π π °π Ώπ °πππ Όπ ΄π ½ππ: ππ Ό 420, 1234 π °π ±π Έππ Έπ ³π ΄π ΄ π °π π ΄π ½ππ ΄,
π Ύπ ½π ΄ππ, π ΄π °π Άπ »π ΄π »π °π ½π ³ 420-2006
ππ ½π Έπ π ΄πππ ΄ π ½π Ύ. 19ππ
"He'd rather go to jail than take my money," I say bitterly when Duster inhales audibly at the [RETURN TO SENDER] stamp on the envelope.
"Again, that doesn't sound like Flint," Duster murmurs, pressing a hand against his face as he gives the letter another one-over. "Your father doesn't speak much, but he's a man who puts his family first. The man I know wouldn't force this financial burden on his own son. He... I don't know why he'd do this... and then he kicked you out, you say? I- Lucas, what did you do?"
"He didn't approve of his son being a faggot," I say stiffly.
"...So that scandal was true." Perplexed, Duster ponders. "I'm still surprised that Flint rejected your pay and kicked you out. And he told you not to return? Something doesn't add up right," he finally says. "Either way, I'm sure Alec wouldn't mind hearing about your circumstances-"
"Don't tell him yet," I say quickly. "Or anyone else. I'll tell them when I'm ready."
Duster nods, though his expression looks reluctant. "...All right. It's your secret to say." Watching a red-chested robin perch against the windowsill, Rope Snake tilts his head up in curiosity, and Duster glances back at me, his expression darkening. "Egg of Light aside... Do you plan on getting Porky off your back?"
"I'm going to put him behind bars for life."
"How?"
"By exposing his pedo ring." When Duster's expression turns harried, I quickly continue. "-along with other crimes. Ness already filed him down for the first, but we don't expect the case to go anywhere. Porky has connections with the Onett police force and local drug cartel. The case might be taken more seriously in Smash city once I gain evidence-"
"Porky's a dangerous enemy." Duster warns. "If you're going to expose him for a crime, you better have solid means of getting him arrested. Because the second Porky gets out, you'll be his first target."
"I'm as far up as I can be on his hitlist. I've got nothing to lose," I say dryly, and Duster's frown deepens.
"Nothing I'll say is gonna stop you, huh," he finally says, looking a little defeated when I stubbornly refuse to cave. I've caved in enough times under Porky after all. It's time that I stood up for myself. "Lucas, your brother went missing because he let revenge consume reason. Be careful that doesn't happen to you."
.
.
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~oO0Oo~
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.
.
The camera flickers, shifting to Shulk's POV.
Watching another one of Ness's flawless executions in the lobby, I feel a twinge of awe when I see Ness blast Robin with a fire blazing in his eyes and a dangerous grin on his face. He looks different on-screen.
It's not a question. Ness? Dangerous? Absolutely. I've seen him smack opponents five times his size into the air like a baseball. Un-Nerfed by Smash City and Master Hand, I've seen his magic blast through solid concrete, pepper opponents with music notes like rapid-fire bullets, and crush a car flat in one hit. With his empath powers, I have no doubt that if he'd WANTED to, Ness could've learned how to manipulate emotions, plant fear into people's minds, and drive grown men insane from depression. As a psychic of his caliber, he would've made a terrifying OP supervillain... if he weren't so compassionate. For as much as I tease him, Ness isn't someone to mess with seriously.
As I break down another one of Ness's brutal kills, debating over how I would've countered his offense, something rustles overhead, covering half of the lobby in shadow. Like an overgrown raven, Dark Pit perches onto the nearest windowsill. "There you are."
With pleasantries out of the way, I decide to address the question burning on his mind. "Are you looking for Ness," I say without turning around, transfixed by Ness taunting a respawning Palutena with an okey, and Palutena returning the favor with her battle cry of yOU SHALL BE PURIFIED!
"Please. I don't trifle in the business of mere mortals," Dark Pit sniffs, sheathing his twin blades, and I decide not to bring up his failed affair with Lucina the "mere mortal."
"He's not here."
"I'm not looking for him."
"..." I couldn't miss that stray thought even if I'd wanted to.
Pittoo catches the look on my face, then rolls his eyes. "Damn mind readers... And I thought Mewtwo was a pain with his telekinesis combo," he mutters, drawing his wings up to his shoulders. His dark feathers shine like oil on water. "Word on the wind says that you helped Popo out." When I protest that I really didn't, that I mostly stood there and listened, he snorts. "Right, and you expect me to believe that."
Now miffed that he doesn't believe me and my awkward antisocial quirks, I tell him that he's at the wrong place if he's looking for life advice.
"I said I changed my mind. I'm not looking for Ness anymore. I'm looking for you." When I continue to look stunned, Pittoo glares at me, "Yeah. I want to talk to you."
I blink off my surprise. With my background from an unknown game franchise, most people search for other smashers with expansive experience, networking skills, and solid connections for help. I meet none of the above requirements. As far as serious diplomatic questions go, the most people ask me is where's the nearest restroom and what's for lunch? - both courtesy of Ness.
"When you were leaving, I happened to overhear your convo with Duster - that's your agent, isn't he? Dunno why, but I've got the feeling you're looking for something rare. If you need a lead, you should try the Black Market."
"The Black Market?" I repeat. Fraught with members of an illegal underground trade, I don't think they'd take too kindly to Smashers snooping around, even as customers.
"Illegal? Ha. Where do you think Snake gets his drugs? Where do you think Ashley gets her potions ingredients? Where do you think Yoshi learned how to commit tax fraud?" Catching the look on my face, Pittoo's expression turns smug because I'm reeling over his words - Yoshi evades tax fraud? My entire life has been a lie - "Exactly. You just have to be clever about it."
I express my doubt along the lines of I don't fancy an instant death wish by the underground mafia, and you're making this up.
"Why would I make this shit up? - You should ask the witches. They seek rare potion ingredients that are hard to come by in this dimension alone. Not Bayonetta though-" he says, wrinkling his nose. "Her kind doesn't dabble in potion-making. Try your luck with someone else. Maybe Ashley. She's off-duty today though, so you'd better catch her lazing around another time."
I catch the emphasis. "...You don't like witches."
"Ask Palutena. Hades knows, she thinks that witches are our enemy," he scoffs, crossing his arms. "Palutena's crazy. Mortals leave behind a higher carbon footprint on their planet, and leave more death and destruction in their wake. I'd say good riddance, except that we have to take care of all the fucking paperwork for their reincarnation. Fucking twats. And Pit thinks that it's our heavenly duty to take care of these fear-mongering murder-happy idiots." His eyes flicker to me. "Don't get me wrong, I'm only helping you out because you're a fellow clone."
"I'm not Ness's clone."
Dark Pit gives into a harsh laugh. "That's some hopeful wishing. Minus the minor tweaks, your powers in this dimension are exactly the same. What makes you think that anyone outside this mansion can tell you apart?"
I'm not interested in convincing other people.
Ness might be amazing on his own right, but I'm still my own person.
His wings flare up, drowning his face in shadow. Dark Pit's eyes seem to glow an intense gold from resentment. "That was Lucina's answer, right down to the bone," he hisses. "You'd think that all that time spent hanging around Marth would've convinced her that she'd never be an equal match against her Hero King, but Lucina believed that she could top the sky. She convinced me that I was much more than Pit's clone... she almost convinced me that we could make it work." His eyes dim from bitterness. "But in the end, I was a heavenbound fool. I'm an immortal, barely three years old, forever cursed to servitude, bound by Pit's fate and Palutena's power of flight. Meanwhile, Lucina's a queen-in-waiting already engaged to someone in her world. Obviously, I would've outlived her. I should've broken it off before she did. Now, I'm stuck with my best friend avoiding me and Palutena nagging me I told you so and Pit pitying me for breaking up with the one person who ever gave me happiness. And I fucking regret it. I regret it all-"
"No, you don't," I say, meeting his eyes. "You want to seek closure, but you're afraid of what she'll say. Lucina hasn't been avoiding you. You've been avoiding her."
Pittoo opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. For once, with his wings shriveled in and his back hunched, he looks pitiful, and I recall Ness's words - Pittoo wasn't at Popo's party yesterday. No one's seen Pittoo around except for his brawls.
Suddenly, Pittoo jerks his head up. His sharper hearing must have picked up something I haven't caught yet from the distance. "...you've got a guest." Pittoo raises his wings, studying me once before finally saying, "You're one batshit crazy kid. That advice was shit."
Then he flaps away.
True to Pittoo's prediction, I hear the clatter of armoured soles, and Marth darts around the corridor. His expression brightens up when I see him. "Ah Ryuka, I was looking for you!"
I fluster. I'd forgotten about answering his request.
Before I can edge a word in, Marth plows through with his own excitement, waving his arms as if he's made a great discovery. "I was looking through your practice exam papers. You accidentally skipped a line in the English section and continued bubbling down the multiple choice section. So I corrected it, regraded it, and-" Marth presses my results into my hands, out-of-breath. "-updated your F.I.S.T. score."
I glance down at my results.
Lucas: 190 (breakdown: 110M_30E_20H_30S)
[CORRECTION BELOW]
Lucas: 450 (breakdown: 110M_290E_20H_30S)
Wow. I actually beat Popo's "420 blaze it."
This makes me feel a lot better.
At the very least, I now know that I'm not a complete idiot.
Uncertain, I shuffle my feet. After glancing at my exam scores, I can't help but feel more like an imposter on the roster. I'm not royalty. I'm not a Fire Emblem character. I don't represent a multimillionaire game franchise, see the cost of education like a drop of pocket change, or have parents who are well-off like Ness. While I plan to make the best of what I've been given, I can't help but feel like I've accidentally snuck in with barely minimum credentials, when legendary Smashers like Samus and Link and Marth and Mario are the norm.
Still, for whatever reason, Marth seems pleased of himself over my scores. "-also, I have reason to believe that your slow pacing was a major contributor to your abysmal score-"
Abysmal.
Oof. I felt that blow.
"-along with lack of study material, but this is a huge relief. This simply means that you aren't used to standardized testing! Both improve with practice, which undoubtedly you'll have no trouble with after due time-" Marth continues, and I wish that he didn't sound so excited. If I'd wanted to go to school before, the urge now is overwhelming.
But with my priorities set on finding the Egg of Light, translating my game comes first.
Regretfully, I have to turn down Marth's offer.
Taking in my explanation, Marth slowly nods. "Ah yes, your game. It is very important, I agree. So I was thinking... now that I have assessed your weaknesses on the F.I.S.T. and know what to work on... I can tutor you in both. For both Japanese and the F.I.S.T. Of course - that is! - this is only if you are okay with the arrangement-" he raises his hands in surrender when I turn shocked. "You might like to take the test at some point, desu ne? Then I can show you my favorite study materials. We are very lucky to be living in the mansion, because we can find other prepbooks in the library for no money! Obviously this study prep will be your lowest priority, so you can look over the books whenever you find the time, but you don't have to start studying for the F.I.S.T. now if you don't want to-"
"Want to?" I croak. "I'd love to."
Marth looks ready to cry from happiness.
Looking even more overwhelmed than I do, Marth stumbles over his English like a broken record as he goodnaturedly leads me to the library, and I grin, listening to him ramble about borrowing good Japanese prepbooks while we're at it.
Walking across the lobby to the elevators, we bump into a crowd of Fire Emblem characters streaming out of the nearby battle portals. Laughing and joking, they converse amongst themselves until they catch sight of us and fall silent. Despite the sudden hush, Roy catches my eye with a friendly wave, and as if understanding what's transpired with Marth, Ike gives me a thumbs up.
I note the stark absence of Lucina.
A figure steps forward, blocking our way. "Marth," Chrom says, though his expression turns stiff upon seeing me. "...and Lucas. I see you've been busy."
"Ryuka is my protege, and you will respect him as such."
As if not wanting me to overhear his conversation, Chrom lowers his voice, and as if a switch has been turned on, Marth follows, switching to Japanese. They debate back and forth. I catch my name tossed into the mix, and fidget. I wish I can understand what they're talking about.
"Nihongo wo oshimasu-"
"-wakarimasen. Ryuka-"
This draws on for a few more minutes.
Halfway through one of Chrom's heated sentences, Marth interrupts with a last word of his own. "Sumimasen, Chrom, but Lucas has some books to check out. Let us talk again when we've both cooled our heads." After a respectful bow, Marth turns my way, unusually tight-lipped.
Drawing himself up, Chrom barks after him, "I'm not finished-"
"Please. Not in present company. Later."
A hiss under his breath. "...Kare wa okama da. Kare wa yariman-"
Immediately, Marth lurches to a halt, and swivels around in place to face him. Any conversation has turned terrifyingly still. Whatever Chrom has said must been bad, because the rest of the Fire Emblem characters gawk at Chrom, their faces whitening from various mixtures of disbelief to shock to horror.
I can only imagine the expression on Marth's face.
Then Ike breaks the ice, his steady voice betraying an unusual undertone of anger. "You stepped over the line. Apologize to the kid."
Looking vastly reluctant to do so, but not in the position to argue, Chrom turns to me with a sulk. "...Gomen."
With a smile so forced that it's almost painful to watch, Marth squeezes my shoulder in an iron grip. "...Come, Lucas," he says instead, steering me away. A hidden fire in his eyes, Marth doesn't look happy anymore. I've never seen Marth look so livid before. Bewildered by the turn of events, I give a last glance back, watching everybody except for Robyn edge away from Chrom as if he were contagious with the flu.
"What did he say back there?" I say, struggling to catch up to him.
"Huh?" Breaking his fast stride, Marth turns around, forcing a smile. "Don't worry about it, Ryuka."
"I want to know-"
"...he called you an okama."
"-Okama?"
The corners of Marth's lip tightens. "Crossdresser."
My heart sinks. "Oh."
"Very disgraceful. Robyn and I will be sure to give him a proper lecture for addressing you in that manner. As my Descendent, he should know better than to call anyone names. He shames me and my family. I apologize on his behalf." He gives a heavy sigh. "Let us make haste to the library."
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~oO0Oo~
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.
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His matches done for the day, Red is nice enough to give me a ride, dropping me off near Sunshine Shrine. Waving him off, I watch his Charizard blow a tunnel of fire into the sky in farewell. Though he doesn't voice his thoughts, Red looks like he's been perpetually stuck in a slump, quietly drifting off over something in his mind. Since last year, he's seemed a little lost. He hasn't brought up the topic, but I wonder if I should ask.
After stopping by to speak to my mom, catching her up on everything on my end, I make my way through the black cherry blossom trees to Tazmily Village.
To my surprise, Alec is home early. His dorayaki all sold out by three.
"Hello, my grandson," he chuckles, ruffling my hair with his flour-coated hands. "You should've seen the stand today. I'm almost growing too popular for you!" His eyes brighten up. "...But I saved one for you. I always do. Just in case."
Though I only dropped by to check on him, Alec stubbornly shoves his dorayaki into my hands, threatening to bake me seconds if I turned his gift down or tried to pay him money. Refusing to hear my protests, he pushes me into the heart of the village to his house. With nothing else left for the day, I don't object.
By foot of the well, a surreal man stretched as tall as a house catches my eye. Tinkling a tiny bell in his hand when I try to put a name to his face, the tall man watches me pass like he knows more than he lets on, but doesn't say a single word.
I stare. "Who's that?"
"Who? The tall man? That's Leder." Alec follows by eyes and shakes his head. "He doesn't speak. He just stands by the well. The Villagers invite him to festivals and offer food at his feet, but I don't think I've ever seen him eat or sleep either."
From across the courtyard, Leder continues to stare at me.
Dropping my eyes to the ground, I hurry after Alec in the opposite direction.
Inside, Alec warms his cabin with smell of the fresh bread. Insisting that Caroline's recipe for nutbread is the best, he complains about his back before impatiently waving away my concerns.
Keeping my eyes on the dough in my hands, I hide a smile. I didn't realize how much I needed this family time.
We knead another loaf of dough, and watch it rise in the oven when he speaks up over his cup of tea. "My grandson likes someone, eh?"
Instantly, I cough on my water. "Ojiisan," I say indignantly, my eyes watering.
"What? I want great grandkids."
"I'm sixteen," I complain.
Alec snorts. "So? I got married at 16."
"That's because you're old..."
"Who talks to their grandfather like that, hah?" Alec pinches me in the cheek, and I protest. "Children. I thought Kurausu was the troublemaker, but you so disrespectful like your mother-! Anyways, I know you're seeing someone - Don't lie to me! It's on your face-" The tides turned, I drop my eyes in embarrassment, and Alec huffs, "When are you going to bring her over? Is she too shy to drop in and say hello?"
I think of Ness rambling. "Nope, not shy. Loud."
"Loud? Is that it?" Alec complains. "Ah, there's got to be much more than that-"
"They... They have black hair. And purple eyes. And-" Feeling my face burn, I shuffle in place with a mumble. "...they hug really nice."
"Black hair and purple eyes? Hugs you really nice? You sure like a strange girl," Alec chortles, and my face flares up in mortification. "Ah... When you were younger, you never turned down hugs. Claus would've always tried to beat you to it and hug you first... we had an old camera back then, there should be a photo lying around somewhere-" Alec hmms, digging through his living room before giving up. "...oh well. Is she Japanese?"
My resolve to correct his pronoun use dies in my throat. I've already gone through this conversation with my dad. As selfish as it sounds, I don't want to go through the same rejection twice. Even if it's for another day, I want to keep my grandfather around a little longer.
Feeling like I'm drowning in the deepest ditch of hell, I sink into my shirt. "No," I mumble, shuffling my feet. "Um, Ojiisan?"
"Hmm?"
"...What's a yariman?"
Alec sharply turns my way with a frown. "Who taught you that language?"
"I read it in a book," I say quickly.
"It's a bad word. Don't use it to describe others." Before his reply makes my heart sink, the oven beeps, and Alec tosses on his mittens to take out a loaf of nut bread.
All too soon, I'm at the front door awkwardly balancing three loaves of nut bread in my arms. Alec stubbornly stuffs a dorayaki into my pocket, bidding me farewell and looking delighted upon listening to me say the same, even though I stumble over my lackluster Japanese ("You'll remember it, Ryuka. Just focus on the vocabulary for now-").
"You smell like cookies," Ness says, hugging me and inhaling deeply into my sweater once I arrive alone at the edge of the cherry blossom forest, and I relax in his hold. He's a welcome sight for sore eyes. Sunlight catches the surface of the Sunshine Shrine, the frost winking on its tanned earthy roof. Looking like he's had another long day, Ness lets go before he can crush the bread in my arms, glancing at my attire in disbelief. "-is... is that Rosalina's scarf?!"
"Yeah, she knitted me a scarf and two sweaters today."
"No fair!" Ness puffs up his cheeks in outrage, grabbing for my outermost sweater of a knitted fox. "Gimme one, her sweaters are fucking nice-"
"Finders, keepers," I bite back a grin, tossing him a loaf of bread when Ness stubbornly clamors for something to carry. "Did you wait long?"
"Nah, I bought some fast food along the way. Drive-ins are the best-"
"You know we have to retake our health exams in March soon."
"But... fried chicken-!"
The back of my head suddenly prickles with pins and needles. I tense up, searching around the forest with my eyes. This feeling... it reminds me of the time back in Onett, back at the arcade tracking down Sharks. The same feeling I had then, like we weren't alone.
Like something's watching us.
When my telepathy catches nothing in the vicinity, I shuffle in place, still uneasy.
Ness taps me in the shoulder, his frowning face swimming back into focus. "-zoned out, you okay?"
"I thought I sensed something... nevermind." I shake my head, disturbed. "Sorry, what about the fried chicken place?"
Ness opens his mouth to continue, but a loud ding from his phone interrupts him. "One sec," Ness says, glancing down. Showing me his phone, he frowns at the name that materializes on screen. "Huh, it's Tracy."
Trace 4:41PM
Ness
Hw busy are you from a scale of 1-10
Nuss 4:41PM
zero
Is this about samuss poster?
cuz ill send it over nxt week i prmise
Trace 4:42PM
No, it's not that
Just
How quickly can you come home?
Ness and I exchange a glance. There's a bad feeling creeping up my spine, and through his empathy link, I know that Ness can feel it too.
Nuss 4:42PM
why? what happened?
Trace 4:43PM
If you can't make it, it's okay
Nuss 4:43PM
Tracy
Just tell me what's wrong
Over Ness's shoulder, I catch the last text that pops up on his phone.
Trace 4:47PM
Mom's at the hospital
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~oO0Oo~
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.
.
After an emergency call to Master Hand and a rushed SkyTrain home, ignoring his jetlag, Ness immediately makes a beeline for the hospital, teleporting with me the second the SkyTrain pulls into the station at exactly 15:30 PM.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Ness demands, distraught, when we meet Tracy in the food court.
Closing her textbook on her essay on European History, Tracy's voice is quiet and steady in comparison. "I didn't want to worry you. You're an entire dimension away, not a street away," she says, her eyes heavy with dark bags from sleepless nights. Under the fluorescent lights of the hospital, Tracy carries the heavy air of someone who had to grow up too soon. Without her older brother around since his quest against Giygas, Tracy has a mature side to her that she hides more than she shows. "-and I would've told you if it was urgent-"
"Mom's in the fucking hospital, how isn't this urgent-?" Ness says aghast.
"Calm your tits, she only fell down the stairs and badly fractured her ankle." Tracy rubs her eyes. "She's okay, big brother-"
"How have you been getting to school? You don't even have a fucking license- and when did you last eat? Take a day off work if you haven't-" I watch as Ness begins fretting over his sister, who looks too exhausted to even complain over his big-brothering this time. "Here, lemme teleport you out and buy you something. I'll take over in the hospital, so you go eat and sleep at home, okay-? Lucas, wait here a few, I'll be right back-"
Burying her face into his shoulder, Tracy just hugs her brother tightly.
About what seems like an eternity later (though the dingy clock hanging against the wall says otherwise), Ness puffs into existence in a poof of ash.
"Tracy's been here every day after school," Ness mumbles as we walk into the elevator with the receptionist's words of fourth floor. He looks a little shaken up. "She has a friend's mom pick her up... I don't get why she didn't ask me, I'd always have time for her-"
"She probably didn't want you to miss work-"
"Yeah, like my work is more important than mom falling down the stairs-" Ness suddenly cuts himself off, staring at something at the end of the hallway.
Catching his expression morph into shock, I follow his eyes to the man by the elevators.
Black hair.
Violet eyes.
Broad shoulders.
He's almost a split replica of Ness.
And all of a sudden, I know.
Something shifts in our empathy link. His emotions overflow over the edge before roaring like a tidal wave in my ears, and shaking, Ness's hand tightens on mine. His anger spikes through me like a shockwave when we all awkwardly cram ourselves inside the same elevator.
"What are you doing here," Ness says, staring holes into his dad, and the amount of venom in his voice takes me aback. He seems unaware that his hands are spitting out jagged circles of magic, swirling around his fingers in a cosmic thunderstorm.
"I'm here to visit your mother-"
"You have no right to see her."
"I still care about her," the businessman says quietly. "The same way I care about you."
Ness's eyes flash. "You can't just- show up and do- aUGH!" Unable to control his fizzling magic, Ness storms out of the elevator.
The elevator doors slide shut behind him.
"First floor. Going up."
Awkward elevator silence ensues.
To my right, the businessman shifts uncomfortably in place. "Sorry."
Dropping my eyes to the flashing elevator buttons, I finally find my lost voice, "...I'm not the person you should be apologizing to."
Author's Note:
I am not an expert in Japanese, so let me know if anything is off. I wanted to showcase Lucas's lack of experience reading Japanese, so everything is in romanji instead of Hiragana/Katakana. I still don't understand the difference between desu and da, because despite a formality difference, there seems to be other reasons behind choosing one over the other.
I'm only going to highlight the important takeaways of Marth/Chrom's conversation, which is Chrom's last (very insulting) sentence.
*Kare wa = loosely translated as (he) is
*Yariman = loosely translated as slut/whore (used to describe women)
*Okama = effeminate man/crossdresser/drag queen
A huge portion of disrespect/insults in Japanese seems to stem from how someone says something (i.e. tone, dropping an honorific, etc.) over what word they use (with yariman a word not ever used in polite company), but I chose yariman over yarichin for instance to show that Chrom effeminates Lucas's character and demasculinates him for being gay, while yarichin (used to describe men who sleep around a lot) gives off more of a "playboy" insinuation than is a genuine insult. Although considering the Magypsies in Mother 3, I guess Lucas's game is pretty "progressive" compared to the society in the Fire Emblem games, which with their royal order seems "more traditional/conservative".
*This goes without saying, but never handle guns like Bayonetta does. Make sure to wear hearing aid, use both hands to reduce recoil/avoid glockbite, and for larger firearms, brace the recoil against your shoulder.
*Bayonetta is the daughter of Balder and Rosa
*In canon, Rosalina has a brother and father (her mother passed away early), both of whom are speculated to be dead as well, since Rosalina travels lightyears around from planet to planet
*"On ne voit bien qu'avec le cΕur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux" is a direct quote from the classic, The Little Prince.
*In Mother 3, Rope Snake is Duster's equip, and PK Starstorm is Kumatora's power.
*In Mother 3, The Egg of Light stored away the memories of the Tazmily villagers upon arriving on the Nowhere Islands. This ensured that they'd live from here on out without being plagued by the lives they left behind... until Porky arrived.