The night before our flight, Ness's mom sits us down for a serious talk on boundaries. Though she's clear to express her disapproval if we are sexually active this early in our relationship, she's adamant that we stay safe if we fool around, expressing a surprising amount of knowledge over Smash City's Romeo and Juliet laws and STDs and PrEP.
I don't complain. Mostly because Ness does enough for the two of us.
"-and the importance of consent."
"Mom, thank you, we geddit now-" Ness whines, but Ness's mom gives him a look.
"I would've given you both this talk even if you were dating other people."
But next morning, Ness's antsy mood lingers, escaping through the agitated popping of his magic when we check in for our flight.
"-have a reservation for a SkyLimo at 8 am."
Surprised, I lower my voice. "We're not riding the SkyTrain?"
"Public transportation's not an option for a while. Master Hand covers all private rides by the Twelve. You're with me, so don't worry about paying me ba- yeah, I'd like to keep the receipt. Thanks," Ness breaks off when the ticketer confirms our interdimensional flight.
Crammed on all sides by Master Hand's approved bodyguards, I throw Ness a pleading look, but with a wince, Ness shakes his head in a clear no. "Smile and wave," is all he murmurs under his breath, and reluctantly, I let them herd us away. Usually slipping away the second Ness's bodyguards arrive on scene, today, I'm not given that luxury. For whatever reason, they surround us like a school of fish, refusing to let me squeeze through any gaps and shielding us from the wrath of the paparazzi.
Arguably, this draws more attention from the pedestrians.
Still, when a little girl and boy - twin siblings - manage to slip through the barricade chiming for an autograph, Ness beams, signing their baseballs before ushering them safely to their parents.
"I wanna grow up an' be a Smasher like you one day," The girl chirps up at me, asking for my autograph again when I hesitate, and flustered beyond belief, I cave in. Though I get what she means, I don't want my autograph to somehow wind up as a freaky voodoo curse and leave her twin brother dead too. "My brother makes fun of my ice powers all the time-"
"Older brother," her twin corrects her with a smug look on his face.
"Older by three minutes."
"Still older."
"Ice powers are cooler," I agree, and the girl whirls around to her brother, beaming in validation.
"Ha, Nicholas! Lucas said my powers are cooler than yours!"
"Yeah whatever, Circe." Her twin brother dismisses her with a flippant wave, and flickering embers sputter off his fingertips. "He has BOTH powers, genius."
"Exactly!"
"Lemme get this straight - you said ice powers are cooler?" Ness complains when we pass the private SkyLimo TSA. "I can't believe you dissed me in front of my fans-"
"You have fans?" I ask innocently.
Ness punches me in the shoulder.
"Haha ow, I was kidding- Don't worry, I can take that," I say, turning around to sling my bag from the security terminal, and one of Ness's bodyguards dutifully backs away. Surveying me with a winning poker-face, she must be a new addition to the team, and after shifting through my memories, I confirm that her face is unfamiliar... though I've noticed how she's given me a wide berth wherever we go.
She's not the only one. Many of the Mansion's bodyguards - and Assist Trophies - easily grow uncomfortable around me. Their body language betrays their unease.
It's inevitable. The team of bodyguards flocks closer to Ness in an obvious sign of distrust.
I keep to myself and pretend to find the floor interesting.
Still, Ness must've sensed tension, because - only breaking stride to stop an entitled man from harassing one of his bodyguards - he pipes up, "What's up, Chun-Li?"
"I'm keeping my distance, Master Ness."
"Does Lucas intimidate you?"
"Not so. I simply do not know how to shield my mind, and wish to maintain my distance until I complete my training module with Lucario," she says carefully.
"That's okay, but make sure not to make Lucas feel unwelcome," Ness encourages, and her shoulders relax.
"Of course, Master Ness."
"And stop it with the Master Ness bullshit, just Ness is good-"
When I shove our suitcases into the baggage carrier and purposely sit in the farthest seat of Master Hand's SkyLimo, a frowning Ness waves away his bodyguards and follows me to the back.
"You stay up front. I'm making all your bodyguards nervous," I say when we're out of earshot. "They're afraid that I'll read their minds-"
"Well yeah, and I can read everyone's fucking feelings." Straining to push me into a roomier seat with a poker table, Ness catches my eye and breaks into an anxious smile. "Listen, they just need time to get used to you-"
"They don't have to. They're your bodyguards."
"Aha so, about that-" Ness coughs into his hand. "From now on, they're kinda your bodyguards too. We're sharing my team whenever we leave the mansion."
"...why."
"Porky's back."
"He's been back since the SkyTrain bombing."
"Except I got a personal tip-off. I'm calling it - he's gonna cause the next CODE RED."
"A personal tip-off?"
Trying to keep it on the down low, Ness ducks his head under the seats, but I know that he's double-checking for spyware. Or bugs. I can tell, because his bodyguards always conduct safety checks on all his private rides. Ness just forgoes the pampering and chooses to ride economy class because of me.
"It's a long story. I'll tell you during the ride. Or at least, most of it. I still need time to process a few things, but I promise I'll tell you everything when I'm ready." Ness pops his head back up with a groan. "All the other smashers are gonna give us SO much flack for this-"
"Really?"
"According to public eye, Smashers are held responsible for their respective villains. It's supposed to be shameful to let your villains wreak havoc in your world whenever they want."
"That makes no sense. We're not the local lawforce."
"It doesn't, but it is what is it. We represent our worlds, so this won't look good. Oh yeah, I'm definitely looking forward to seeing Wario again," Ness says glumly. Chun-Li returns, confirming my earlier suspicion with an ALL CLEAR on hidden cameras and glue bombs, and it's only when she leaves that Ness finally lets loose, intertwining our fingers and leaning against my shoulder with a relieved sigh.
The SkyLimo engine hums.
Even the quality difference is noticeable. The hum of the SkyLimo is subtly quieter than that of the SkyTrain.
With Ness cuddling against my side, I feel spoiled silly, sitting in a private ride flooded by limitless entertainment at my fingers and thousands of drinks I'll never get the time to see or touch, but I'm just happy because the seats in the SkyLimo don't kill my legs. Considering the horror stories I've heard about planes, the leg room in the SkyTrain isn't bad, but I can't stretch my legs all the way if someone else takes the front seat.
Chairs and doorways. My true nemeses.
"So..." Ness tosses his pack of cards on our vast table and throws me a hesitant look. "...You sure you don't wanna see your dad one last time? Before we leave and all?"
I give him a look. "He disowned me."
"Oh yeah. Right."
"Besides, I think he moved. I stopped by the apartment yesterday. Someone else answered the door."
Ness unusually quietens down. "Do you miss him?"
I don't know.
He's still my dad.
With a low blip, the SkyLimo hovers above the station like a feather, then blinks into a wormhole at the speed of light.
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~Chapter Thirty-Four~
When You Least Expect It
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When life hits you hard, you learn to roll with the punches.
Even with Porky breathing down our necks, the days leading into February are happy. We spark another prank war when Ness tapes his stupid autograph over my sleeping face, and I retaliate by moving all our pots and pans to the highest kitchen cabinet out of his reach. We live in the moment, enjoying little pockets of time together whenever we can, recharging our magic through each other until we can't tell feelings apart from thoughts.
During this time, I even get a tiny potted plant. An unexpected gift from Peach, who had been begging nearby flower shops to take her spare plants and was all too grateful to have given one of her pot plants away to a home, I sprinkle my Gerbera with water and watch its petals beam brightly with beads of dew. It's almost therapeutic, talking to one of my mom's favorite flowers as it blooms and blossoms into life in front of my eyes.
"It likes you," Ness says seriously one day, out of the blue, and as I poke the tiny pot plant into a sunny spot on the balcony, I wonder how far his empath powers extend to plants and animals.
One late evening when I tuck the tiny pot plant back on my bookcase, Ness sneaks over for a cuddle, only to drain my magic into his hands for another silly stunt. Floating to the ceiling from excess of magic, Ness flips somersaults in the air in an ungraceful imitation of Peter Pan, flapping his arms like a bumblebee bobbing up and down. "Lucas, look! I'm sUPERMAN!"
I cut our mental connection, and (with a satisfied grin) watch him drop to the couch like a stone.
I've put Ness in an awkward situation with Porky, I think, as Ness playfully wrestles me into a headlock. The easiest solution, it seems, is to play Porky's bluff and publicly come out of the closet, but I'm hesitant to do so unless as a last resort, because while I don't want to put Ness and his family in peril, I want to come out on my own terms. When the cards are ready. I want to play the game when I have a good hand, when as of now, I'm drawing four in UNO and deciding how to break things to my grandfather without losing the trust of the villagers at home. I'm not sure how I ended up in this position, but I've never liked diplomacy, never liked the subtle politics behind every word and every move I make, and all of a sudden, I can more easily relate to Ness and his sense of responsibility for the home he left behind.
"I never really got the chance to come out on my own terms," Ness says later that night, (obliviously) guessing what's been on my mind. "You know I was outed. Accidentally. I honestly still don't know what I am. I guess it all worked out in the end, but I really don't want you to go through the same mess too."
Neither do I.
Unable to voice my gratitude, I curl around him like a blanket, and hope he can understand what I mean. I don't do words, not when the words I'm looking for don't do the feelings justice, so instead I close my eyes and try to remember how Ness's back ripples under my hands like liquid muscle.
A stray spark floats off Ness's hand.
Still, I feel a detached sense of unease from Ness's empathy link as I wait for him to unravel everything that happened back at home. There's something that's distinctly missing from Porky's blackmail, something that Ness is purposely leaving out beyond Porky's classic threat of "I'll make you, your family, and your friends suffer" from the memory Ness let me read. But from the way Ness hugs me a little longer before work, or checks the bathroom periodically for hidden cameras, or refuses to sleep until I return home from patrol duty, I can't help but feel concerned that Porky's blackmail isn't an empty threat.
"-Ness, I'm glad to see you too, but I can't breathe," I manage when Ness dive-tackles me the second I return home from yet another late patrol duty shift. He knows I was on data desk duty today - as long as no one else needed backup, all I do is sit and twiddle my thumbs bored at the phone. Still, Ness refuses to let go, shaking his head into my chest and latching onto me more tightly like a clamp.
I don't like this.
I don't like how upset Porky makes Ness feel.
This - if nothing else - makes me more determined to see Porky behind bars. One day, I vow. If Ness doesn't get to him first, then I'll take him down. Porky's hurt more than enough people. I won't let him hurt anyone else.
I'm already at the top of Porky's blacklist. Porky doesn't scare me anymore.
Duster's warning echoes in my head.
...I wonder if Claus regretted facing down the Drago that killed Mom.
The sinking feeling intensifies in the pit of my stomach.
So I do my best to ward off Ness's worries, pouring out pulse after pulse of magic into his back until Ness relaxes and lets go. He's got enough on his shoulders without adding me to the mix.
Then all too soon, it's the 1st of February.
I've heard that love comes when you least expect it, but Master Hand takes this saying to heart in the form of his Valentine's Day decor. To my horror, when a cloud of gnarly pink glitter attacks my hands in the lobby, I trip backwards in my haste to escape, instead unceremoniously landing into another glitter bomb as Princess Peach corners Samus at the foot of the stairs.
"You know, Samus..." Peach smiles, fluttering her lashes under her parasol. "Someone told me that Lil' Mac's single-"
"Peach, I swear to Mother Brain, if you try to hook me up with anyone this month-"
"One more date won't kill you."
"That's what you said last time. I've already gone on a date with Captain Falcon and another with Snake in the past year." When Peach still looks at her hopefully, Samus sighs and clicks open her helmet visor. "Look... Princess. I appreciate the dates you set up for me. They were..." a pause. "...fun. I can't remember the last time I've gone on a fun date with anyone, and both guys aren't bad people. Still, nothing personal against them and you, but I'm not interested in a relationship. We've already gone through this before, Peach. I don't want kids."
"You don't have to have kids to have a fulfilling relationship-"
"Still not interested. Even if I wanted to date someone, my line of work's too dangerous for anyone else to handle. I'm not risking it, not after Adam-" Samus's face closes up. "Nevermind."
Her eyes dawning with understanding, Peach touches her by the elbow. "It was only a suggestion, dear," she says softly. "Samus, I'm worried that you don't have more friends your age. Although, one day, if you ever change your mind on the dating scene, I could set you up with another bachelor. Maybe all you need is a fresh face on the roster-"
"Lucas, what the fuck are you doing? C'mon, let's 3 stock," Samus says loudly, dragging me away in relief as I furiously struggle to wipe the magic glitter off my hands with little success. I hate glitter. It's got a personal vendetta against everybody, sticking its mess everywhere like no one's business.
Luckily, Ness shares my disdain for the tacky Valentine's Day ornaments. Behind a pink elevator lathered with sickly-sweet hearts and plastered from tip-to-toe with white shoe-laced ribbons, he catches my eye and makes over-the-top retching noises, and I pretend to gag back. While I've honestly got nothing against Valentine's Day and the happiness of others, I'm less-than-keen on accidentally walking in on naked people going crazy for the sake of losing their virginity on a pseudo-holiday.
"Heads up," Ness warns me, jogging to my side. "Whatever you do, don't go to the bathroom on the second floor. I'm sure someone was having sex behind one of the bathroom stalls, but like heck I was staying to know who-"
I wrinkle my nose. "Classy."
"I know, right. Giygas, what's with everyone wanting to fuck like rabbits this month," Ness grumbles, and I stifle a laugh, because it's true.
As if on cue, Master Hand gathers us in an "emergency meeting" next morning to remind us of Mansion protocol.
"Yesterday afternoon, two Assist Trophies demonstrated unprofessional behavior during work hours, and were caught red-handed during intercourse in the latrines by the janitor," he says balefully. "After a review by the High Committee and a lengthy confession by the traumatized janitor, the Assist Trophies responsible were regrettably suspended from our ranks for a duration of two weeks. Let this serve as a reminder of due diligence, to remain professional on company time and to keep all acts of privacy behind closed doors afterhours. Moreover, you can pick up free contraceptives by the main Reception Desk on all floors, including the new Sauna, Hot Springs, and Public Spa on the 7th floor. That is all. Thank you for your time."
"hAhA! tHEy hAd sEX!" Crazy Hand laughs.
"Brother, please."
"aNd thEY gOT CAuGhT!"
"Brother."
"hOES!"
I feel for the poor janitor. He doesn't get paid enough for this.
In contrast, the impromptu romp in the men's bathrooms makes Popo look like a holy saint of self-control.
"Having sex at work? Fucking noobs," Popo says, shaking his head when I appear in Ness's stead. I'm glad to see that he's feeling better, though he's (understandably) busy moving out. "Dude, that's like rule number two of what NOT to do at work, ever."
"What's rule number one?"
"Never surf on company wifi. But if we're talking about rules of SEX-" Popo grins. "-don't forget to attend to her needs. Say, where's backthrow boy?"
"Stuck in a meeting."
"Damn, Ness is popular these days-" Popo shoulders the edge of another box into the moving van and frees a Toon Link from being flattened into a pancake. "It's like everybody needs to talk to him. Master Hand, Jeff, Phosphora, Peach, Jeff-"
"Ness panicked. He thought you already moved out-"
"Bro, tell him not to worry. I only wanted to ask if he could help me move out today- but hey, you're here. Awesome. Actually, I was supposed to have left with Nana Saturday, but stayed behind to search for a good therapist since Master Hand offered to cover the cost. And well, I'm trying to work on my sex addiction so yeah... therapy. I doubt I'm gonna stay in rehab long, cuz it's so fucking pricey, so the therapist is a better investment on the long run. That way, I can help Nana and the res out the quicker I'm feeling better- Aw Toon, don't cry. We'll be back next tourney, dudes-"
"I'm not crying!" Toon Link bursts out, furiously rubbing his swollen eyes. "I don't get why you and Nana didn't stay for the Summer-"
Popo laughs before patting him on the back. "Dude, I would've massively failed the drug test next week. Managed to stay sober for the drug test up to Br4wl, but I don't think I could've kept my addiction down another time. Master Hand would've fired my ass off his stove- thanks Red, I can take that box. And Toon, you're gonna miss your brawl. Go, dude."
Toon's ears droop. As if to prove Popo right, seconds later, Zelda bursts out of the front doors of the Mansion in the manner of searching for someone - though she's surprised when Toon dives over to sob unabashedly into her dress. Consoling him with a word, Zelda gives Popo her well-wishes along with some of Peach's baked goods.
"I wish we could've given you a proper farewell, but it seems like many Smashers are stuck in brawls after taking Saturday to see your sister off. Peach said she would've baked you more cookies if not for Luigi's wedding last week-"
"Nah, it's fine. Everyone thought I was leaving then too, and I said my goodbyes to Master Hand early. Can you take Toon inside with you? If you don't, he's gonna get in trouble for missing his brawl. Seriously, if he loses to WARIO of all people, I'm gonna be back for an ass-kicking- You too, Red. I told ya, I got the last box."
Toon makes a sound between a laugh and a hiccup. Looking appalled by Popo's language, but torn between telling Popo off or going easy on him because it's his last day, Zelda settles for an awkward well, take care now before ushering Toon back inside. Tipping his hat in farewell, Red stalks back into the Mansion without meeting my eyes.
Picking up the last box, Popo inclines his head. "Speaking of therapy- what's the matter with Red?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. Ness doesn't know either."
"Obviously. If you ask me, Red's got something against the guy. Got him a pink dildo for last Christmas-"
This takes me aback. "I never knew."
"Well, as far as prank gifts go, it was fabulously offensive. Maybe more fabulous than offensive? Hmm. I'd say 60/40 split, give or take. But hey, it's Red. Who knows why the hell he acts the way he does." Popo shrugs. "Given that Toon doesn't seem to know either, I figured that Red might spill the beans around you. If I had to guess, it sure sounds to me like he's got a bad case of the Third Wheel. You're in a relationship. That, and you haven't really had the time to hang out since Porky made his debut. That's what I'd say, but what do I know? I'm the one night stand, not his fairy godmother."
"Oh." My face burns. "I'll try to catch up with him."
"Yeah, bro. Don't expect the rest of the guys to say it out loud, but we do care about you. Just don't forget about us too, all right?"
"I won't."
"Good." Grabbing my phone, Popo types something in it before tossing it back. "Now you have my number, and Nana's. Go wild."
"Porky stole Ness's number through my contacts-"
"Yeah well, guess what? I don't care. You holler, we'll be there in a snap. Dude, we'll be back after two seasons, so you might as well take our numbers. You made Nana super worried when you disappeared on us last time. Just don't lose your phone anymore, and we've got a deal." The moving van honks. Taking shotgun, Popo hops in, throwing up a ridiculous gansgta pose that makes me roll my eyes with a smile. "Ladies and gents, peace out."
The moving van reverses around the Gamecube fountain.
Then it stops.
Popo rolls down the window. Sunlight glints off the shades covering his eyes. "Oh yeah, Lucas. One more thing."
I look up.
Popo's smile doesn't change. Despite the heat of the midday sun, the air drops by ten degrees. "Fuck Porky Minch."
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~oO0Oo~
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"Porky Minch? Hey, isn't he that fat kid from Subspace?"
...
"He can walk?"
...
"I mean, compared to Tabuu and Rayquaza, he doesn't seem that dangerous... Can't you guys handle him yourselves? He's your villain, right?"
...
"Oh nooo, help us all! It's Porky Minch! He's gonna roll over the Mansion like a giant beachball and flatten everybody in it! Wahahaha. Spooky."
...
"Ness said that Porky's back-"
"Yeah, and he's back to murder my dead mom-" I start before noticing Samus lounging nearby in an arm chair. She raises her eyebrows at my sarcastic quip, and I fluster. "Sorry, I- I snapped. I thought you were someone else."
In an almost lazy yet practiced fashion, Samus reloads her blaster. "Okay, who's the fucker asking for an asskicking?"
"It's not-"
"Names, Lucas."
"No- It's just-" I give up, sinking into an armchair. "No one here takes Porky seriously."
"I do," Samus says, and scampering our way, Pikachu dives into Samus's arms with a happy squeak.
"Except you."
"Pikaa."
"And Pikachu."
Satisfied, Pikachu licks himself clean. "(My duty here is done)."
"If it helps, I think most of the Smashers do believe you guys," Samus sighs, retracting her blaster. "There's only one problem: They've got no idea how dangerous Porky can be. Because let me guess. Porky's a manipulative sociopath. Porky's got a clean record since Subspace. And if Porky's "supposedly" done any crimes, he somehow has a knack for pinning it down on other innocent people and successfully getting away with it."
She's got him down to the dot. "How-?"
"Personal experience." Samus's mouth tightens into a dangerous line. "Porky doesn't have to be a decrepit fifty-foot dragon to be intimidating, because he fucks with your mind. It's what makes villains like him and Ridley so dangerous. No one sees them coming, until they DO. And by then, it'll be too late to fight back."
Her accurate character breakdown raises the goosebumps on my arms.
I wonder if even Ness himself knows how big of a threat we're up against. It's not every day your neighbor turns into a sociopath stalker, and while I can understand childhood rivalry, maybe even blatant animosity, Porky's obsession over Ness is... borderline disturbing to say the least.
A soft meow.
In the mood for affection, Cereza the kitten pads over and rubs her purring head against Samus's leg. From Samus's lap, Pikachu bristles at the unwelcome display, his ears twitching. "(Go find your own two-legs to tame, you zero voltage feline)."
Though not understanding pika-speak, Cereza narrows her eyes, sensing hostility, and hisses, fluffing herself up to twice her size.
Pikachu doesn't bite the bait. Within the blink of an eye, Pikachu bats at Samus's hands and lets out an adorably sweet chaaa, all playful and innocent smiles.
Oblivious to the stand-down between the two, Samus complies to Pikachu's request, absentmindedly stroking him between the ears, and Pikachu flashes Cereza the smuggest grin a Pikachu could ever make on its chubby face. "(See. My human. No domesticated Chinese-ripoff Meowth can match my prowess of the cute.)"
An incredulous Samus watches Cereza brush past her, as if Samus herself was beneath her notice. "I feel like I'm missing out on an entire world of conversation," she says, and in typical cat fashion, Cereza dramatically feigns disinterest for Samus's leg, hoping instead to seek my attention.
"You have no idea," I say with amusement, now scratching a purring Cereza behind her ears. And people wonder why I'm a dog person.
A whizz of quills hits the pavement. "Did someone say, MISSING OUT?" Sonic grins, spinning back onto his dancing feet, and a frightened Cereza accidentally sinks her nails into my arm before diving underneath the pool table with a hiss. "Man, no wonder you guys always look like you've got a serious case of FOMO. Gotta go fast!"
"Good to see you too, Sonic. Might wanna lay off of the sugar next time."
"When in Rome, Samus. As Julius Caesar said, seize the day!"
"I think Carpe Diem was coined by Horace, not Caesar."
"Really? Roman names are all Pig Latin to me." In the blink of an eye, Sonic blurs to the arm of Samus's arm chair. Making himself comfy, he kicks back to enjoy basking in the sunlight reflecting off the overarching windows. "Heya, Lucas! What's cooking?"
"What's cooking?" Samus scowls. "More like who's cooking up a scheme-"
"Who-da-whatta is?'
"Porky Minch."
Sonic blurs to my armrest with renewed interest. "So it's true? No bluff?"
"Oh- yeah." I say, still trying to blink the disorientation from my eyes. You'd think that rooming with Ness would've acclimated me to fast talkers, but whenever Sanic speaks as quickly as he moves, it sounds like he's high on Helium. "The Alvin and the Chipmunks" voice, as Ness dubs it.
"Your villain, eh? Tough break, kid," Sonic tuts. "And I thought Ness was joking. Yeah, I'd rather take on Eggman over "Mister Hot Air Balloon" any day. Better see if ol' Eggman's heard anything in one of his VILLAIN ANONYMOUS meets, but I think he's even creeped out by Porky Minch. Apparently every civilian who's ever butt heads with Porky Minch's gone missing. Like, no bodies, no trace. Nothing. Eggman even says that the kid owns a personal museum of stolen relics, and swears that Porky has a-" Nervously glancing to the side, Sonic lowers his voice. "-shrine packed with Ness amiibos."
This detail doesn't go unnoticed. "A shrine packed with Ness amiibos?" I repeat with a frown. "I thought those were in shortage-"
"Hey, don't quote me on it. Eggman likes to eggs-aggerate everything, but even if the stuff he's said about Porky isn't true... man! That's if Porky likes you." Sonic visibly shudders. "I'd hate to know what Porky'd do to someone who really grinds his gears. Talk about creeper to the max- Oh hey, Pikachu!" Ever the avid subject changer, Sonic blurs back over to Pikachu for a high five. "Did you hear? We're movie star buds now!"
"Oh, Pikachu? Yeah, he's a sly rascal. Charmed everyone on set, didn't you, pal? You might've fooled everyone into thinking you were harmless and adorable, but I know better, you killing machine," Samus affectionately ruffles Pikachu behind the ears, and Pikachu rubs his cheeks against her fingers with another happy "chAAA."
"Oh, oh! Don't forget about me, Samus!" Eager for praise, Sonic jumps into the air like an elementary school hopeful asking for bonus points. "I know, I charmed everyone on set too-"
"Pikachu was well-behaved and worked exceptionally well with his voice actor. Meanwhile, I heard you were bouncing off the walls-"
"I was excited!"
"-and refusing to comply with the camera crew-"
"They couldn't keep up with the shots-"
"-so the animators had to cram in a lot of shoddy CGI to fill in the gaps."
Okay, I had to laugh. No wonder his movie trailer flopped fantastically.
"Can you BLAME me?" Sonic complains, offended. "I'm a free being! A creature of STYLE. You can't expect me to sit still on set and rehearse the same line 100 times like one of Eggman's marionettes-" We toss him a look at the same time. Catching the look, Sonic sulks, his quills deflating. "Okay, okay, you're right. I got too hyped up and let it get to my ego."
"To be fair, they could've done a better work on the CGI. Seems like they pushed back the release date, so you might want to behave on set when they call you back in. Either way, no amount of CGI can beat the original," Samus says, and true to his nickname as the Mansion's attention hog, Sonic's quills perk right back up at the stroke of his own ego.
"Aw, Samus... You really mean that?"
"No. She's just trying to make you feel better, you imbecile," Ganandorf chortles past, and his attention sold, Sonic zooms over to him, ready to argue over the logistics of Samus's words.
As soon as their excited jabbering and annoyed grumbling fade around the corner, Samus reclines back against her armchair. "Finally. Some peace and quiet."
But even that too is shattered when Pikachu's ears twitch for the second time that day. Static electricity popping from his cheeks, he perks his head up, evidently curious when another Pikachu scampers in its direction.
"Pika!"
"Chu...?"
We watch Pikachu hop off Samus's lap, sniffing over the newcomer, and as Pikachu the Second affectionately butts his cheek against his, electricity sparks from their waving tails like a magnetic metronome. In what I recognize as a surprising display of respect, Pikachu finally lowers his ears, rubbing his cheek against Pikachu the Second. Their cheeks zap and crackle with a stormy static that weighs down the air.
"What do you mean, you can't let me in? You just let his Pikachu in-" Struggling to push Tingle off him, a boy with a shock of brown hair waves my way. "Hey you, Elvis! Elvis Presley!" When I look at him less-than-bemused, he confirms, "Yeah you, Johnny Bravo!"
"Johnny Bravo?"
"Your hair," He impatiently makes a gesture like he's sweeping a hand through his own hair. "It's got that sWOOSHY ice cream swirl. Anyways, tell pipsqueak here-" The boy points at Tingle. "-that I'm here for this dumbass named Red."
Samus frowns. "Who're you?"
"The name's Gary." He smiles, his teeth glinting in the light. "Gary Muthafuckin Oak. But you can call me Blue."
.
.
.
~oO0Oo~
.
.
.
The confrontation doesn't take long.
From afar, Blue stands behind Tingle's Security desk, crossing his arms and tapping his foot in a clear sign of impatience. Though I can't hear what he says, the arrogant way Blue holds himself betrays much of his character. Confident. Charismatic. Decked out in his nasally voice and prideful ego, Blue's an antithesis to the deadpan boy standing across from him.
With his own Pikachu perched on his shoulder, Red listlessly watches Blue rant and vent about whoever knows what.
Then Red interrupts him.
Whatever Red's muttered in response doesn't make Blue happy.
Slowly, I watch as Blue's smirk falls into a scowl. His voice escalating, Blue bristles and prods Red in the chest, as if trying to emphasize each of his points.
Red's done listening. Shoving his Pikachu back into Blue's incredulous hands, Red shrugs Blue's hand off, yanking his own cap over his face before stalking back over the Security line.
Watching Blue's expression, I think this is the first time I've ever seen someone's face genuinely turn from his namesake color to an eggplant purple with rage.
I'm mildly impressed.
Blue leans as far as he can over the security line without triggering Tingle's ire. "Go on! Walk away! Like I give a shit, you bastard," Blue screams. "Your mom thinks you're dead! We all did! You vanished from Mt Silver for years without a fucking word, and instead of moving on, I find you bumming around here after that upstart trainer decked your ass-"
Like clockwork, Red swivels back around, marching back over to Blue. His sudden increase in pace speaks of agitation.
As if ignoring the sudden change in Red's body language, Blue eggs him on with a gloating laugh. "Yeah, that's right. You might've beaten me before, but at least I never turned into a depressed, spineless bitch like you when Gold thrashed your-"
Then Red punches him across the face.
They go down flailing, Blue with a shriek of "OW! Not my faCE, you cheap bastaRD! Oh, it's ON!"
That's our cue.
We jump to our feet.
"Okay. Break it up, boys," Samus says sharply, pulling them apart, and in the background, a frantic-beyond-inconsolable Tingle wails for security. Panting, Red says nothing to defend himself, wiping the blood off his cut cheek, and Blue clutches his bleeding nose. "What's going on here?!"
"Dough deed doo day," Blue says, giving Red a nasty glare. He tries to sniff his congestion away, and hobbles upright. "I've had enough- Smell ya later, ya freakin' loser. Come on, Pikachu."
With a sad Pikapi, Pikachu the Second scampers away, hopping onto Blue's shoulder.
As if he hadn't heard Blue's less-than-enthusiastic farewell or watched the dramatic exit, Red roughly shakes Samus off and storms up the stairs. Samus and I share a troubled glance.
She's got a brawl in fifteen minutes.
I don't.
"I'll check on him," I mumble, turning to the stairs.
Retracing his steps, I find Red in the South Wing, his Charizard curled up around him like a dragon hoarding its treasure. With a pitiful snort of smoke, Charizard raises his head up at my approach, before giving into a rumble like a sad volcano. Sensing that Red might want to be left alone, I hesitate until Charizard snakes his head over, snapping his maw open and tugging the edge of my shirt over.
"(Trainer needs Two-legs Human Lucas. Not Charizard)." Charizard says through clamped teeth. Without waiting to hear my response, Charizard opens his wings, dragging me next to his trainer with his jaws, before swathing his wings overhead like a canopy and enveloping us in darkness.
I blink the stars out of my vision, blindly feeling around the warm scaly walls, and Charizard rumbles again under my fingertips before wrapping us in tighter like a tent. Like Samus's space heater, the translucent veins in his wings faintly pulsate with heat from the fire in his belly.
The only source of light here is Charizard's vital tail flame.
His eyes devoid of emotion, Red watches it flicker and glow like a dying matchstick.
I shuffle over, oddly reminiscent of our Subspace camp-outs. Despite my late growth spurt, he's still slightly taller than me.
"Blue's leaving on the SkyTrain tomorrow," I say quietly, reminded of Ness's homesickness.
"..."
"When was the last time you saw your mom?"
"..."
Recalling some of Red's Pokemon trivia from long ago, I reach for the end of Charizard's tail, whispering an incantation. The tail flame flares up, looking much healthier, and Charizard makes soft earthquake noises as if feeling slightly better.
"You remember," Red suddenly starts.
"I do."
At this, Red manages to crack a small smile, but stays silent. His thoughts cloud my mind, unusually loud and clamorous and discordant.
"I lost."
"You've lost before."
"I lost," Red repeats, less like someone disbelieving of the truth, more like someone trying to ground that truth into reality. More like a confession. He's lost many times in this tournament, the same way we've all had our fair share of wins and losses, but Red doesn't seem to be talking about Smash. We don't need words to understand that the defeat he's talking about sapped him of his sense of purpose.
I'm lost, His thoughts whisper, fluttering around my head like butterflies.
He's felt this way for a while.
Blue was just the breaking point.
"...Show me," I say.
Unfaltering, Red looks me straight in the eye.
Like a flurry of minnows, Red's thoughts flicker, and flashes of his memories surface into my mind. His challenger's third try. A howling blizzard on a white-topped peak. Two Pokeballs, their smooth curvature like ice in his own numb hands. Down to one. Starter versus starter. Lightning versus Fire.
Most unforgettable is the face of his opponent. A boyish face. A cocky, crooked smirk. An iconic snapback. Lit against a roaring explosion of flame, it's a child prodigy brimming with messy black hair and a childish mischief, his face bearing an uncanny resemblance to someone familiar, barring the golden gleam of his burning eyes-
The perfect Champion is undefeatable.
"I never wanted to be Champion. I only wanted to be the very best," he says. His voice, though soft, sounds heavy and tired. It's a voice that weighs with the exhaustion of burn-out, of unseen burdens brought on by a too-early preteen fame, and I wonder if he's trying to escape from the attention of his home world and everyone in it. While I can't relate to his popular Pokemon franchise, I've seen Ness buckle more than once under the onslaught of paparazzi after Giygas's defeat, and can't imagine that that pressure would be much easier on someone younger. It would make anyone want to live alone on a mountain forever.
"No one's undefeatable. Not even the Champion, nor the Elite Four." I pause. He's already beaten both. I'm only repeating what he already knows. "...Not even the Chosen Twelve."
Red stews over this.
Charizard's flame grows brighter.
Red curls up, bringing his knees to his chest. ...Want space.
Awkwardly patting him on the hand, I comply, ducking underneath Charizard's massive wings. Loyal to the death, Charizard gives into a content rumble and shuts his eyes, wrapping his wings around his trainer.
.
.
.
~oO0Oo~
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.
.
In all my formal matches against Ness, I've never won.
I've outrun him in most of our impromptu races. Taken gold in a good number of our practice matches.
But never in an official tournament.
No matter how many times Ness praises that I'm a fast learner or complains at how much he sucks at school, Ness is undoubtedly a brawling prodigy. An addicted adrenaline-seeker, even without the hours he's poured into training, Ness's motor skills and reaction time - on top of his psychic potential and impromptu split-second battle tactics- make him a true devil on the battlefield.
Smash only highlighted what was already there. He's found his niche, and made it his.
Still, this doesn't stop me from spiking his last stock into the blastzone later that day.
He's stubborn to win, but so am I.
Catching his breath, Ness flops onto the floor with a groan. "You know, you'd think that this whole we're-dating thing would've at least let you take it easy on me. I mean-" Ness waves an arm, but he's out of energy that it comically flops to his side halfway up the arc. "Anyone who sees Link play against Zelda knows that Link lets her win, hands down-"
"Tell that to the villains who won't take it easy on you."
I don't even bat an eye when Ness gives me his best sad puppy dog face. He uses that face so often that it's shameless.
Still, when I crack open my water bottle, I ask, "...Do you want me to go easy on you?"
Ness considers this. "No," he says, jumping back onto his feet. "How did you read my recovery again?"
I hide a smile.
We bring out the best in each other.
We're strong, but we're stronger together.
Towards the end of our training, Ness haggles to raise the stakes on our last match. A sudden death, he says. Just for fun.
"If I win, you have to answer whatever question I ask. One question."
"You could ask me now-"
"No," Ness says stubbornly, his face suddenly red. Okay then. His loss, not mine. "I'm gonna win, and you're gonna answer my question whether you like it or not."
"Then if I win, you're doing all the chores for the week," I say.
Ness grins. "Deal."
I PK Freeze him off stage.
"THAT WAS COMPLETE BOGUS!" Ness fumes when I laugh at his misfortune. "You freaking used a projectile, and on top of that, I wasn't ready, you massive jerk-"
"You could've dodged," I suggest.
"That's not fair!"
"Well Ness, life isn't fair."
Ness jumps me and wrestles me into a headlock.
Still, when I agree to another rematch, Ness takes the win this time, smacking me out of the air with his baseball bat in a resounding KO.
"You're awfully persistent on winning all this for a question," I say when we walk out of the training room.
"It's an important question," Ness insists, tossing me a clean towel from the rack before wrapping one around his neck. As I wonder why the towels all smell like daisies, Robin hurries past us on his way to his own practice match against Bowser. "I'm done for the day. You got any matches after this?"
"Nope. You're my last."
"Awesome! Let's grab a drink. Choco milk's on me."
Despite my protests, Ness ignores me, swiping his card at the Hot&Cold Drinks vending machine on the 7th floor, and slamming two choco milks down on the bamboo chairs in the lobby. Poking my drink with a straw, I watch the steam rise and mist the glass doors of the two Bath entrances - separated by gender - behind the see-through Reception Desk. Above the transparent Reception Desk made of clouds, a yawning Wind Fish floats in place, serene and wise and calm while swimming without a care in the world. The steam glances off the ground in pearly white tendrils, mineral water condensing at the tips of the bamboo fountain and trickling down into the porous rocky floor between our shoes in a wisp of fog. With so many people and rooms in the Mansion, it's never occurred to me until now... I've never stepped forth on this floor.
Everyone's busy brawling.
At most, we've got 30 minutes before someone's free.
Listening to what sounds like refreshing cold water gently trickling down soaked rocks, after a gross sweaty workout, a quick dip in one of the hot springs sounds like a really good idea.
Making up my mind, I stand up. "I think I'll take a quick soak."
Ness sputters into his milk. "...huh?" He says faintly.
"No one's around. I just want to check out one of the private hot springs in the back," I say, and Wind Fish - a giant whale deity- slaps a key to the men's locker rooms into my hand with his swirling tail.
When Ness lingers behind awkwardly, fumbling a little before reaching Wind Fish, I feel his terrified thoughts flutter into my head, and wonder what bad experience he's had with hot springs.
He explains. "The last time I jumped into a hot spring, I was high on Saturn coffee. I heard disembodied voices," he says, looking horrified, and I crack a smile.
"No hallucinogens here. Just a quick dip. In, then out," I promise, and Ness breaks into a relieved sigh.
Unlike the standard dull gym lockers, the bath locker rooms are clean and brightly lit, their racks stocked to the ceiling with fluffy white towels and bathrobes of every size, their drawers stuffed with hair dryers and hair brushes and healing balms of every kind, all twenty glittering mirrors fogged up by their respective sinks. Not one to be embarrassed over modesty, Ness quickly strips his sweaty shirt and socks off, tossing them haphazardly into his locker, and I neatly stack my shoes into a shoe crate. I don't bother taking my own shirt off, because while neither of us brought fresh clothes, I only plan on soaking in for a few minutes. And though we've taken a bath together as kids after countless times rolling around in the playground mud, I guess it'd be weird to now. Definitely weird.
When Ness hops across the locker rooms, sliding open the other glass door to the spas, the steam lazily rolls over packaged soaps that leave behind a refreshing fragrance of cucumber and aloe. The smell of the steam alone sparks a feeling of deja vu.
I loved hot springs. Love.
I think I still do.
It's definitely a rare experience, having a whole floor to ourselves. While I sink to the bottom of a hot spring, counting how long I can hold my breath and feeling the fresh water wash over my face and the slippery tiles, Ness horseplays around, doing backstrokes and cannon-balling into every hot spring he can find with a whOOP! until he accidentally does a bellyflop into the "glacier-cold" spring. When he wails, his dignity lost, our empathy link throbbing with pain, I splash hot water into his face. Sputtering with a laugh, Ness breaks the surface, his wet hair plastered over his shut eyes.
At least he's having fun.
Time passes quicker when you have fun though, and the twenty minutes disappear in a blink. Soon, we're back in the locker rooms, drying our hair as fast as we can to avoid any awkward encounters with anyone new bursting in. I'm still untangling the knots from my dry hair when Ness's reflection tiptoes into view from my mirror. When something tickles across my scalp, I start with a violent jolt, instinctively ducking under the hair brush in Ness's hand.
Realizing his mistake, Ness backs away, meekly lowering his hairbrush, and my face burns from embarrassment. "Sorry," he mutters, his face red. "I should've asked first."
I swallow down my nerves.
No one brushes my hair, except for me.
Not since my mom and brother died.
My throat constricts. "My mom used to brush my hair," I say quietly.
"Oh. Fuck. I, uh-" Looking ready to die of mortification, Ness edges away, but I reach for his hand and press his hairbrush into my hair.
"It's okay."
Ness hesitantly locks eyes, as if double checking, before running the brush into my hair again. Though he brushes my hair wrong, letting all the bangs stick out at every gravity-defying angle possible, he's got a practiced hand, surprisingly gentle with the strokes. He's done this before.
Ness clears his throat. "I used to brush my little sister's hair," he mumbles, catching onto my train of thought. "After my quest. It helped with the nightmares, when I thought I failed to save the world."
In response, I lean into his hairbrush.
Afterwards, I guess Ness still felt guilty about giving me a scare - even though it was an honest mistake - because sneaking under my notice, he buys me another round of chocolate milk from the vending machine, stubbornly wrapping my hand around one when I refuse. For later, he insists. If you don't want it now. Eventually, I relent. Because while my stomach says no, my sweet tooth screams yes.
"I guess we tied our match," I comment underneath the stars, enjoying the taste of chocolate dancing on my tongue, and beside me on the patio of the penthouse, Ness enjoys his refreshment with gusto. "Does this mean you'll have to do our chores for the week?"
Ness almost coughs on his drink. "Chores? What chores?"
"The vacuum cleaner's all yours," is all I say with a smirk, and when Ness puffs up his cheeks, my smirk widens.
"Does this mean you'll have to answer my question?"
"I guess so. What do you want to ask me?"
"So this was- and I'm just- okay, back up." Ness breathes in, before bursting into a nervous ramble. "I was in the lobby after a match, when the FE guys were- well you know, comparing swords- which is dumb shit they do all the time- and it kinda made me curious-" Ness clamps his mouth shut. Taking his impulsive nature into account, whatever the question is, it must be something if he refuses to say it outright.
"I can read your mind if you'd prefer," I suggest before Ness blurts out at the same time,
"How big are you?"
I ponder over it. "Around... six three. Don't know what that translates to in meters-"
Ness turns red. "No, I mean like-" he gestures at my pants. "Your dick."
"Ness," I deadpan. "Of all the questions in your arsenal, of all my life's secrets at your disposal, out of everything and anything you could've possibly asked for, you cash in your win to ask me for the size of my dick."
"I'm just curious!" Ness flusters, now making me fluster too. "Don't tell me you haven't ever grabbed a ruler before 'cause you wanted to know how big you wer-"
"..."
"Oh right. You're like, asexual or something. You monster."
"I never got the point," I finally say. "Of measuring my dick with a ruler."
"There's a start for everything," Ness suggests.
"No."
"...Please?"
"No."
"Lucas, it's not like you've got anything I haven't seen before. Here, I'll show you mine if you show me yours-" When I pinch him in the nose for the ridiculous (reasonable, Ness clamors indignantly) offer, he squirms around in protest. "Okay, I'll take that as a no," he says, cuddling up against my side with a happy, half-lidded smile. "Hey. I'll still love you even if you have a micropeen."
My face burns. "I do not have a micropeen."
"If you do."
"Ness, I'm not pulling out my dick just so you can measure it with a-"
"Protractor? Yard stick?"
Ness doubles over laughing when I bury my face into my hands. "Oh my god."
"Okay okay, I believe you. Really though. Jokes aside, I do wanna tell you something. Winter Formal. It's supposed to be a Masquerade Ball this year, but that's not the point." Ness sets his empty milk carton aside. "With Porky on the loose and everything... I'm planning on asking Paula to Winter Formal." Nervously, his eyes dart up to mine. "If you're okay with it."
I hesitate.
"I'm okay with it," I say carefully. "But I can't say that I'm not uncomfortable about you going with someone who clearly has feelings for you."
"Paula?" Ness laughs. "We're just friends-"
"And that's what we said about each other the first time around." Ness looks hurt, but he knows that I'm right, and I know he knows because he doesn't argue. With a sigh, I fiddle with my drink. "...I know. You asked me to the dance first, and I declined because I wasn't ready. But you know better than I do, that people don't get over their feelings easily. It takes time. Just because Paula's told you that you're friends doesn't necessarily mean she's over you- and I don't want you to lose Paula as a friend. Because I know how much she means to you."
"You mean a lot to me too," Ness says stubbornly.
"Look, I don't mind you asking Paula to Winter Formal. Especially since both of you faced Giygas and Porky before together. I know what you mean. I only think you should keep all this in mind."
Ness gives me a look. "You sure?"
"Positive."
"Winter Formal's really all for show. So if it makes you uncomfy, I don't mind asking someone else-"
"Ness, ask her to the Formal."
Ness breaks into a small smile. "Thanks," he says, scooting to my side. "But just so you know- I'm only looking forward to one dance that day, and it's not the one airing during the program."
I groan. "Someone shoot me. Will there at least be free food at the banquet?"
"They've got caviar."
"Good. Wake me up when it's all over." When Ness opens his arms for a cuddle, a hopeful grin on his face, I make a face and scoot away. "Bad. Away."
"Hey!" Undeterred for affection, Ness dives over and struggles to wrestle me into a headlock. "C'me back here, you weenie! Submit to the cuddles-"
"Nooo-"
"Caviar, Lucas. Think of the FREE CAVIAR."
"Help, Ness's mom! Your son's peer-pressuring me-"
"Lemme love you, dammit!"
.
.
.
~oO0Oo~
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.
.
.
"Lucas, you've-a lost weight."
"I eat enough."
"That's-a good," Dr. Mario says kindly. "I can see that most of your body mass is-a muscle, but your ribs are much more pronounced than I'd like them to be at this time of year. I know-a wrestlers tend to starve themselves until the week before a competition to stay within a weight class for their brawl, and everyone here does too, but not at-a this pace. You might have-a trouble gaining weight because you're an ectomorph, and because you've been growing, but you're an athlete. Make sure to eat your fill."
I give into a helpless shrug. I don't starve myself. I do eat as much as I want.
Yet, Dr. Mario's frown deepens. "And while not a serious problem, your iron levels are-a much lower than I'd like as well. Have you-a been taking your iron pills?"
"...no."
When Dr. Mario gives me a look of disapproval, I hate that a part of my guilty conscious twinges. I pride myself on my self-care. My dad's drilled that lesson plenty of times into my head. Because if you don't care for yourself, no one else will. And while I hate the taste of my iron pills, between saving the little expenses and paying off the last of Porky's debt, it's hard to justify spending my pocket cash on medicine I don't need versus extra food on my plate. My anemia's neither fatal nor serious.
I can live without my iron pills.
I can't live without food.
...Why is earning money so hard.
Maybe I should double-duty. Get another undercover part-time job that rakes in enough cash to cover Porky's stupid debt in one swoop. A bartender maybe. Or a stripper. Can boys even BECOME strippers? Nevermind, I don't want to know.
"A stripper?!" Ness tears up from laughing when he wakes me up next morning. "What the ever-loving fuck, Lucas. Are you half-asleep?"
"Apparently Dr. Mario thinks I look like an anorexic freak, so I'd blend in perfectly."
"I'd hate to be a stripper," Ness says, choosing now of all times to be reasonable. "They deal with worse harassment than us. And their hours are pretty fucking terrible for what they have to go through- your alarm's going off again, Lucas. Wake up-"
Well, I refuse. I pull my pillow over my face. "Don't wake me up for work today. Don't wake me up. Ever. I'm allergic to work."
"You might be a skinny bastard, but you're not an anorexic freak," Ness says helpfully.
"Guh away. I hate life."
Unable to speak and shaking from mirth, Ness tickles me awake.
Still, my pride takes another hit when Marth points out my frail frame.
"Lucas," Marth says with a concerned frown when we finish another grueling Japanese sentence that's turned my brain into mush. "You grow skinnier every time I see you... Have you been eating lately?"
I show him my packed lunch.
A pause. "Ah, I did not mean to be rude. The question arose more from an area of concern than malice," Marth says gently. "As a good King must not only be responsible for their subjects, but also carry their peoples' needs above their own, I've been told I have an eye for detail."
My face burns. "Sorry," I mumble. "I promise, I have been eating. But speaking of your people... I want to ask you a question."
"Oh?"
"How did you earn the trust of your people?"
"I did not."
"Lucina calls you the Hero King."
"She does. But though Lucina is supportive, there's nothing you can do to make everyone to like you. Some of my policies during my reign were highly unpopular. For one-" Marth's smile drips with dry humor. "I let my beloved sister lead my coronation."
I blink. "Is that bad?"
"Back in my time? Yes. All woman are forbidden from attending the coronation of the future King. Moreover, women of the royal lineage are forbidden to take reign in the monarchy, and upon marriage, lose their royal status." When I look stunned, Marth gives into a weary laugh. "My time is very... different from here. I hear that things have progressed better in Chrom's time, but Lucina has many obstacles in her path if she wants to become Queen."
"Is this why Chrom...?"
"Yes, and no. It is a complicated matter, and while Chrom treasures his own daughter, he is very..." Marth pauses again, searching for the right word. "Traditional."
"But for the most part, your people love you."
"I do my best, but there will always be dissenters," Marth's voice turns solemn. "As you know, the second Master Hand pulled us into this tournament, his presence alone changed each and every one of our timelines, splitting it into many alternate universes. In my current timeline, as you can see, I am alive and well so far. But in an alternate universe - in Lucina's - she's told me many rumors about how my reign ended. The most popular adage says I passed away in my sleep from old age. But another one, which comes from an old yet trusted source-" Marth's eyes turn dark. "-says that I died on the blade of an honorable traitor named Camus. My decisions were unpopular, Lucas, and though it is not bad to want to please others, it is so at the cost of your own morals. Thankfully, you are still young, and - hopefully! - will never bear the weight of a crown on your head, but I believe this marks as good a lesson as any. Popularity for popularity's sake is as fleeting as a sprout in winter snow, while popularity that follows a righteous act lingers like a sturdy cherry blossom over many seasons. Do you not agree?"
At the very least, my answer satisfies Marth's worries, his smile turning soft, and we start the lesson.
An hour a day.
While it's not much, I still try to squeeze out this much time for Marth's Japanese lessons. Not so much a standard classroom lesson as a bootcamp, Marth proves himself a ruthless tutor, jumping straight to the jugular and engaging me in conversation, only breaking down sentences when I blankly stare at him like he's spouting Shyriiwook. Sticking strictly to his native tongue anytime within this hour slot, every time I accidentally slip up, speaking English out of sheer habit, Marth gives me a knowing smile, pretending not to understand me until I respond appropriately in kind.
I thought I'd forgotten the language entirely, especially with my mom's passing, but as Marth guessed to his delight, my mom's early language lessons must've ingrained itself somewhere in my mind. While I still struggle over vocabulary beyond Thank you and Goodbye, the pronunciation comes much more naturally, and the grammar grows easier to pick up.
Reading and Writing Japanese is a different story, but that'll come at their own pace. Based on Duster's talk of the other Tazmily Villagers and their false, less-than-welcoming impression of me as a snobby rich upstart, something tells me that learning how to speak my mom's native language would earn their respect, and in turn, earn their help in regaining our memories from the Egg of Light.
But when I arrive in Tazmily Village that afternoon, jogging past the Sunshine Shrine and ducking under the naked cherry blossom trees, I find an unexpected sight.
Unwanted graffiti.
Someone vandalized my mom's grave.
With a sponge and a bucket of water from the Tazmily well, I spend a good hour scrubbing the blotchy-red spray-painted MILF off her headstone. There are new sunflowers here too - not mine - but I clear those too because someone's purposefully torn their petals apart and trampled on them.
Not long after, my grandfather - finding me kneeling by mom's grave - grabs me urgently by the arm.
"Don't drink the water!"
"I didn't," I say, startled stupid by his sudden bellow. "What happened?"
"Whassat?" he says, frowning, and I repeat my answer louder so that he can hear. His shoulders sag with relief when he sees me all right. "Good, avoid the well. Some of the villagers got sick."
"From the water?"
"Worse. Someone's poisoned the well."
With my frantic grandfather at my heels, I race to the village center. Most of the villagers are already there, some green-faced while groaning on their sides and clutching their stomachs.
Clearly in the middle of a shout-fest, a bird-eyed old man with a sharp chin barks out against an angry mob of villagers. "It's not my son!"
"Duster the thief, Duster the thief-" the mob chants in broken English.
"You all damn know my son didn't poison our well," the old man - Wess, Duster's dad, my grandfather helpfully points out to me - snaps, shaking a fist. "I told you, Jackie saw someone creep in last night-"
"But your family masters in the thief arts... and Duster dropped by to visit yesterday," another one of the villagers pipes up nervously. "All he drank was his bottled water-"
"Because he didn't want to waste his half-full bottle, you dimwit!"
"...and he left early this morning, didn't he?"
"Well yes, he did-"
"So your son knew that the well was poisoned! He did it! Duster the thief-"
"Shut your trap, Butch! You accuse my son one more time and I'll-" Wess switches rapidly to Japanese, more at home in his native tongue, and another heated argument breaks out.
Amidst all the chaos, tall-as-a-house Leder watches the argument unfold without a word.
Enough is enough, so I take the initiative. "How many people are sick?" I say, and in an unnerving swivel to silence, all the villagers stare at me, their eyes immediately distrustful.
When their lack of answer persists, Alec firmly steps forward. "You heard my grandson-" Another switch to Japanese.
Reluctantly, the villagers answer, and my grandfather translates their answer for me.
"Seven," he mutters, dispersing the mob with his hand and shooting a cowering Butch a dark look. "And believe me, I don't think it's Duster who poisoned the well."
"So do I," I agree.
"...Alec?" A middle-aged woman in an old butterscotch yellow dress embroidered with daisies catches our attention. Upon seeing me, her eyes widen in surprise, slightly misting over. "Is this...?"
Puffing his chest up proudly, Alec pats me in the back. "Yes. Tessie, this is my youngest grandson."
Tentatively, Tessie reaches for my awkwardly hunched shoulders, drinking me in and staring at my face like she's never seen me before. "-Oh. Oh my, look at you. You've grown so tall." Dazed from nostalgia, Tessie breaks into a wide smile. "You've got your father's eyes. And your mother's hands-" she marvels, enviously lifting each of my fingers. "Your family is so fortunate. Hinawa had the prettiest hands of the village, but your father had a wonderful pair himself. Nice and strong-" When I shuffle around in place, embarrassed, Tessie laughs. "But underneath all the grit of growing up, I see that you're still the same kind, gentle child at heart. Welcome home, Lucas."
"Tessie is the nurse of the village." Alec offers, glowing from each of her compliments as if they were meant for him, and the sight of him happy makes me feel warm inside. "She speaks best English. Let her help you."
Determined, Tessie nods, her sweaty hair sticking to her forehead. "We're on our own, Lucas. I've tried calling for a doctor in the city, but all of their appointments are booked-"
We go over all of Tessie's home remedies. Though she's grabbed some advil and supplies from the nearest pharmacy, whatever's poisoned the well must be deadly, because nothing seems to work against such a fast-acting toxin. During these few hours, all the sick villagers grow worse at an alarming rate. Throwing up and breaking out into fevers, their lips turn cracked and parched even as we squeeze wet rags over the hives on their faces. Frustrated by the lack of a cure, I try to conjure a healing spell, but as I predict - none of my healing spells work in Smash City. With Master Hand out of town for the week and my powers limited, my options to treat the villagers dwindle to one hope.
Thankfully, Rosalina's in the Mansion when I burst into the lobby, clutching the stitches in my side.
"Lucas-" she begins, surprised, before I gasp.
"People... sick. Poisoned. Need Peach."
Beaming, Rosalina gladly offers me her fruit, and I shake my head, repeating my request.
Rosalina ponders. "Peach the person? Oh! She is not here. But-" Rosalina smiles. "I can guide you to her garden! If we're lucky, she might be there."
"Thank you, Rosalina. You're a hero," I say weakly, and Luma pats me on the back with a happy dolphin chirp.
Unlocking the backdoor, Rosalina leads me through the grounds, and feeling like my lungs are emptied of air, I do my best to keep up.
A precious engagement gift from Mario, Peach's Garden of the Queens is the magnificent stereotype of Disney Princess dreams. The grass pulsates with a healthy vibrant green glow, and the roses are so delightfully red that their relaxing perfume alone makes me sleepy. Nearby, dotted with stray pollen, a bumblebee lazily wiggles its fluffy butt around within the rose petals, falling victim to the throes of slumber. There's a hidden magic here in the peach's pollen - a magic that catches any intruder to the garden unawares. I can hear its magic as it whispers its music into my ears, brushing through the air like the strings of a harp.
Sleep, child, the wind whispers.
You must be exhausted, the flowers whisper.
Close your eyes, sunflower, the tree whispers.
My eyelids feel unusually heavy. I'm tempted to curl up and take a quick nap, and almost do until Rosalina gently taps me on the head with her wand.
"I'm sorry, Lucas. I have forgotten the effect this garden has on mortals," Rosalina apologizes when I try to blink the sleep from my eyes. With a droopy bob, Luma gives a low chirp before falling flat on his face like a drunk shooting star, face-planting into the grass with a puff of sparkles, and covering a yawn herself, Rosalina sleepily amends, "...and immortals. How strange. Peach should be here... Lucas, fret not - Stay here."
.
.
.
~oO0Oo~
.
.
.
"Shit! My glove's on fire!"
"Stop, drop, and roll-"
"It's good, Duster. I stamped it out. Did Boney revive Lucas?"
"I think so." A dog's whimper. A wet snout pokes my cheek. "Boney. Easy, boy. He's okay." The snout recedes.
"That was some wicked healing back there, Lucas." A shake of the shoulder. A cheeky grin on a sooty face. "How're you hanging, pal?"
The taste of acrid smoke refuses to leave my nose. I cough and wipe the soot from my cheek, trying to stand up, but someone pushes me back down.
"Lucas, hold on. Kumatora, did you...?"
"YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW SO SEW SO-SoO-"
A blur of flaming pink hair. "Yep, I busted it up."
"THE NUMBER YOU HAVE DIALED IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PORK CHOPS FROM EAST TO WEST IT GOES GOES BROKEN BROKEN OH SO SOW SEW BROKEN-"
An ear-rattling explosion. The ground shakes. Hot bolts rain out of sight. Clatter. Tinker. Clink.
"Geez, Lucas. I hope getting your hands on that equip was worth all this trouble."
"Well, Kuma... You accidentally brushed against the glass case first."
Embarrassment. "Shuddup, Duster."
I remember. Inside the broken glass case.
Something happy red tucked on a velvet pillow.
Gingerly, I take out happy red by the spool of string.
Kumatora's complaint. "That's it? A yo-yo? Wow, Porky sure has his priorities straight. I mean, I'd totally hire a bodyguard to guard a cheap knockoff toy over I dunno, all of Thunder Tower-"
The background shifts. My vision flickers, as if watching a black-and-white movie from afar.
Someone else speaks.
"...miss you."
"See. It's not so hard, is it?"
"No."
A smile tinged with sadness. Hands, warm and soft, cup my palms tighter around his old yo-yo.
My chest aches. I've never been good with goodbyes.
His mouth moves, finishing the last words of his sentence. "...Best friend's yo-yo."
.
~oO0Oo~
.
Lucas.
...
Do you remember me?
...
It looks like you've gotten your head handed to you.
...
It must have all just been a bad dream.
...
You've forgotten about your quest.
...
You've forgotten who you are.
...
When you regain your memories, seek me in the world you left behind and wake me from my slumber.
...
I'll be waiting.
...
.
.
.
~oO0Oo~
.
.
.
I don't know how long I've fallen asleep.
But the instant I wake under a thick hand-knitted quilt blanket to a worried Peach at Rosalina's side, I realize in horror. Too long. Far too long. As a relieved Peach hands over a basket full of her magic peaches, breaking into a flustered lecture for "falling prey to the dangerous magic of her singing garden", I have the sense to be internally chastised, promising to be more careful next time. According to Rosalina, not long after I nodded off in the magic garden, I wouldn't wake.
"-compensation for my peaches? Bless your heart, but heavens no! Lucas, I don't want anything in return," Peach says, flabbergasted, before pushing me to my feet. "Now go help your sick friends. Goodness me, my singing garden and its magic, I swear-"
As I thank them a last time for their help (Peach fusses over me, and Rosalina beams), Rosalina waves her sparking wand in a graceful S, and a launch star materializes from thin air.
"Tuck in your arms at your sides," she encourages, before shooting me across the sky like a cannon.
After a nerve-wrecking dive under the Milky Way, clutching onto the basket of peaches and making sure none of them tumble out, I land tipsily on my feet by the Sunshine Shrine. Clamoring for my grandfather, I take off towards Tazmily Square for the cluster of sick villagers-
They aren't there.
Happy laughter and music greet me first when I dash into the town square. Wheezing for air, I accidentally bump into a couple dancing by the well, spilling the basket and dropping two of Peach's peaches. Looking as if he'd never been poisoned in the first place, the irritated man I bumped into shoos me off, hiccupping up a storm, and bewildered, all I can do is stand in place fumbling with my basket of peaches. That man and his wife... Matt and Jill. They were sick. Just two hours ago, neither could crawl an inch without throwing up.
What's going on?
"My grandson-!" Alec claps me in the back, and I'm relieved when he saves me from wandering around hopelessly lost. "You didn't have to come back! I tried the calling you on the boop-ons, but you wouldn't pick up."
"Oh-" I crouch down to pick up the fallen peaches. They're bruised, but not too badly. "Sorry, I didn't notice-"
"That's okay," he affirms, affectionately ruffling my hair. "Thank you for helping. Luckily, it looks like the problem's been solved."
"How?"
With a frown, Alec rubs his chin in thought. "Another man arrived right after you left. Portly fellow. Sold us some pills, and said it'd make us all feel better. Happier, even. He encouraged the healthy to try them too, if they so wanted. To protect themselves against the evil spirit of the well." His brows crease slightly in disbelief. "Can you believe that, Lucas? Pills that make you happier? Happy Happy Pills. But they worked! The sick villagers are sick no more."
Happy Happy Pills.
A chill travels down my spine. "Did this person say his name?" I say slowly.
"Hmm... did he? Ah, yes he did! I remember now. What a ridiculous name he called himself." Alec straightens his horn-rimmed glasses, and his frown deepens into a grim line. "The Great Porky Minch."
Author's Note:
A headcanon: Lucas and Ness's magic makes them lighter, which explains why they're floatier characters. This explains Ness's sudden weight while drunk in chapter 3 (alcohol impaired his senses, blocking off most of his magic after a lucky teleportation to Luigi's bathroom).
A part of Lucas's chapter was inspired by one of my friends, who is an athlete. They look skinny because they have little to no body fat, and one day, some twit asked if they were anorexic. It bothered them for the rest of the day.
-In short, Romeo and Juliet laws are laws present in certain countries(?) and American states that are supposed to govern a relationship between two consenting minors (within a certain age gap).
-The first names of the OC children in the beginning of the chapter are a reference to two of my favorite sorcerers: Circe from Greek mythology, and Nicholas Flamel.
-In the Pokemon franchise, sources cite that a Charizard's tail flame reflects a Charizard's health. When the tail flame dies, so does the Charizard.
-In the Pokemon franchise, HeartGold and SoulSilver, Gold (or Lyra, depending on the gender of your avatar) can challenge Red at Mt Silver. With Red's leveled up Pokemon, it's arguably the hardest battle of the game.
-From the Metroid franchise, Adam Malkovich is Samus's former commanding officer in the Galactic Federation. He lost his life in Metroid: Other M, after sacrificing himself in a mission. Though swearing not to grieve over his loss, Samus thinks of him fondly as a father figure.
-Peach's Peach garden is a reference to her Ultimate Smash (all fighters temporarily fall asleep while she summons peaches that heal a player's damage counter).
-In this fic, Marth's rules regarding women in the royal family are loosely based off of Japanese monarchy in real life. These same rules that applied to women include forbidding women to seize the throne, and (until recently) forbidding women from participating in the royal coronation. Considering how close Elice was to Marth, I don't see him conforming to this tradition, making Marth highly unusual. Moreover, any woman of the royal family - upon marriage - is considered to have "left" the royal family, hereby losing their status as a royal.
-From the Fire Emblem series, Camus is a man who serves as one of Marth's main antagonists. Camus is described to be an honorable, patriotic man who would do anything for his country, and while he is painted as a noble character, I can also see circumstances forcing Camus to assassinate Marth in an AU where Camus is left with no choice but to do so.
-In Mother 3, The Friend's Yo-Yo can be an awesome equip for Lucas, guarded by and (implied) treasured heavily by Porky Minch. The Friend's Yo-Yo is widely speculated to have been Ness's before Porky's untimely possession.
-In Mother 3, though Sunflowers played a main theme throughout the game, representing Hinawa's favorite flowers and Hinawa herself, Hinawa's second-favorite flowers were Tazmily Gerberas. Gerberas love to grow in slightly moist soil, and share the same Genus as daisies.
-In Mother 3, Lucas and his party commonly healed up in Hot Springs. In contrast to censorship of nudity in Western culture, where nudity is often associated with sex, Public baths are highly popular in South-eastern Asian cultures, including Japan and Korea (though now regarded with rising suspicion in modern times due to the rise of smart phones), where people go to relax and bathe. As a parallel to South-Eastern Asian culture, the Ancient Romans also had public baths of different temperatures, most notably the cold bath (frigidarium), lukewarm bath (tepidarium), and hot bath (caldarium).
-In Mother 3, Duster is accused of stealing money from a villager (Butch, specifically) in earlier chapters, because of his family's reputation in the "thief skills."
-In Mother 3, the modernization of Tazmily and Porky's slow ascent to power were first attributed to Happy Boxes, items that resemble TVs. Among Porky's people was a crafty salesman named Fassad, who cleverly tricked some (and eventually, almost all) of the Tazmily villagers via persuasion and fearmongering into buying happy boxes. Over time, the villagers turned against Lucas and his family, speaking ill of them for being "unhappy", and for refusing to be happy despite the fact that Lucas lost both his mom and brother.
-In Mother 3, previous players have joked that the engraving on Hinawa's gravestone coincidentally resembles the lettering, MILF.