Winter is coming.

Did I say Winter? I meant Winter Formal.

With Winter Formal approaching, I'm pretty much stuck in Mario's meetings and Ballroom practice all day, while Lucas splits all his time between diving into Tazmily Village, searching for The Holy Egg of Light, and sparring. Though Red's not exactly my BFF, I am glad Lucas is trying to keep his friendships with other people, and I am relieved to hear he has other friends outside of our relationship.

Then Lucas brings up Red's prank gift from Christmas.

"The dildo?" I say, surprised. "Uh, I think I threw it under my bed somewhere. Why?"

"If Red insults you, he insults me," Lucas says, his stance firm.

"...Y'know, looking at it, it is pretty funny," I laugh once I find it half buried under a couple Marvel magazines. When I whip the dildo out, Lucas watches it wobble in my hands with unadulterated disgust. "Look, I'm Link, the Pink Dildo Triforce Hero! Swordfight! HYAAAH!"

Needless to say, when Red stands outside my dorm the next morning, I'm pretty floored.

"Uh-"

"I challenge you to a Battle," he says, his voice as dead serious as his poker face.

It takes all my fucking willpower not to burst out laughing, because I have a strong suspicion Lucas put him up to it.

But I like a challenge.

Why not?

I grin. "Okay."

Red nods and skulks away to the Training Rooms.

In contrast to the Best Dildo Apology of the Century, the other Winter Formal preparations annoy me to the point of tears. Phosphora forces me to pick a mask for the Masquerade Ball. Shadow dismisses me every time I struggle on a rack of fitted dress suits ("pants too short NEXT, hems too large NEXT, Ness for the love of Chaos, can you stop outgrowing your clothes faster than my quills?"). Worst of all, I'm being blackmailed by my clingy ex neighbor stalker, who wants me to ditch my best friend to the pedo industry and abuses my number worse than Youngster Joey prattling away about his top-tier Rattata.

Asshat 8:14AM
Nesss
look at all these minoritahs in the waterpark
lol
Asshat has sent you an attachment (3)

Asshat 8:15AM
?
Are u ignoring mee
pdishit
I thought u were kewler than that
I can blackmail u anytime now
in five four three
two
one

Asshat 8:16AM
anytime now

Asshat 8:17AM
anytime now

Asshat 8:18AM
fucking pusyy
I dint wanna talk to u anyway
ur just inasnely jealous im having fun without u

Nuss 9:45AM
What the fuck porky
I was in a meeting

Asshat 9:45AM
oh
tell me next time buddy!
We' re buddies right?
best friends?
hello?
Hellooo
Ness?

Picking up his tiny pot plant from the balcony (if a plant could beam, this one does), Lucas winces when my charging phone buzzes consistently with more notifications from Asshat, spewing out more of Porky's toxic deluge into our ears. "You should block his number."

"I can't. He's blackmailing me with our footage-"

"I'd like to keep my cover, but it's not worth the trouble if he's making you suffer for it." My phone buzzes again, and Lucas reads the notification that's popped up on the screen. "He says he's not "inviting u to his birthday party"-" Another buzz. "-oh, and that his cake is gonna be the biggest in the city."

"He's been needy all week," I complain, rubbing my face down when my phone bleats again. "This is like, having a clingy abusive girlfriend who won't let go."

Lucas pauses. Throwing me a purposeful look, he slowly reaches for my phone-

I swipe it off the kitchen counter with a scowl. "NO. You are NOT going to let him harass you!"

Unfortunately, I'm right. Something else beats Porky to the punch.

Because a few days from Winter Formal, Lucas barricades himself in the closet.

He's so quiet that if I didn't know better, I wouldn't have known. But I know, because when I walk into the apartment, I spot his shoes on the shoe rack, only to realize he's nowhere in sight. There's that... and yeah, the wilting sensation at his end of our empathy link. It's heavy. I don't know how else to describe it. Like someone's pressing down a barbell on the other end of a weight scale.

Lucas holes himself up whenever he's had an especially horrid day.

On hindsight, it sounds funny. Except when you think about it, it's fucking awful. Lucas grew up thinking crying and being upset was shameful or some shit, so he copes on really bad days by shoving himself into a closet or somewhere until he feels okay enough to talk. Out of sight, out of mind. He's like a barnacle too. No amount of talking or bribing will get him out of there until he's ready.

So when Lucas drags himself out into the kitchen to microwave his dinner, I make sure to obnoxiously shower him with as many noogies as I can.

Fending me away, Lucas breaks into a hint of a smile, but it only makes the bags under his eyes appear darker. "I'm fine. People problems."

That clears it up. "People suck."

"Yeah."

"Porky sucks."

"Yeah."

"How's gramps?"

"He's okay."

"...Wanna talk about it?"

"I'll let you know if I need help," Lucas agrees, and wishing I could do more, I brush a stray strand of hair out of his face.

I don't know all the deets, but apparently Porky made his debut in Tazmily Village. And something about Porky conning some of the villagers into buying his drugs. Lucas is doing his best to prevent the drug trade, but when he returns from Tazmily these days looking more zombie than human, you gotta wonder what the fuck is going on there.

Then there's the other problem.

Me.

Mostly.

We're keeping the relationship down low until Lucas introduces me to his grandfather. Which was supposed to have happened on Feb 1st. Last week. But with the villagers turning into druggees and Porky showing up to scam them, well... now doesn't sound like the best time to promote the homosexual agenda, if you catch my Tokyo Drift.

So you see, I can't exactly bust into the town square and yell "HEY PORKY GIMME ALL YOUR DRUGS OR IMMA PUNCH U."

As Lucas plainly puts it: my fist is not the best tool for diplomacy.

"Whaddaya mean my fist is bad for diplomacy?" I fume, but Lucas isn't having any of it.

"The villagers think Porky's their Savior."

"What?! It's obvious that the tub of lard poisoned the well-"

"He's tricked them into thinking that he's some hero from an ancient crockpot prophecy. A lot of the villagers ate that up, because a prophecy apparently does exist. My grandfather doesn't believe in it himself. He's hoping that the villagers see through Porky's scam and get worried soon... but they aren't. They believe that Tazmily's not in any danger, and even if it is, they believe that their Savior "blessed by the Dark Dragon" is going to show up at the last minute and defend them. So yes, Ness, I don't think they'd be too happy with me if you punched Dragon Jesus in the face." Lucas catches my incredulous expression, and shakes his head. "Believe me, I wish I could make half of this up."

"Say my fist is a blessing from the Dark Dragon," I suggest.

In the end, I reluctantly promise not to interfere unless Lucas tells me otherwise. Looking beyond relieved that I won't be punching anyone soon, Lucas ruffles my hair in thanks.

So like I said, Winter is coming.

I'm just holding out until then. Until we dig up enough dirt on Porky. Until I can finally expose Porky's ass. I keep telling myself things will be okay.

Fuck.

I knew I'd regret making that promise.


.

.

.

~Chapter Thirty-Five~

Everyone Wants To Be My Friend

.

.

.


With Winter Formal tomorrow, Lucas leaves to make up training with Lucario.

Lucas's apathy fools people into thinking he's lazy at times, but no matter how shitty he feels, Lucas never skimps on his matches. He trains almost religiously like clockwork, and stubbornly so. Because on the day Lucas turned in his pink slip for being a drug runner, the Sharks didn't take the news easy. Things ended ugly. Lucas lost control over his powers. When Lucas came to, he'd realized that he'd somehow knocked them out and erased himself from their memories. Frank Fly was seriously lucky he missed out on the party. When Lucario finally stepped in to mentor Lucas for Brawl, you can imagine how relieved Lucas felt.

Truth be told, neither of us know the full extent of our powers.

The best we can do is keep them under control.

So if Lucas can suck it up, I decide to finally get my nightmares checked. Because believe me, no nightmare is worse than Porky texting me 24/7 about his birthday (months away) and asking if we're still besties.

When it comes to recurring nightmares, most rational people go see a therapist. Or a psychiatrist.

Me?

I go to the resident witch doctor.

Staring straight up into the ceiling lights, I lie on the patient table. "Well doc, the nightmares are getting worse."

"What do you see?"

"I see things, doc. Horrible things. Like you dressed up as a poor ripoff of Sherlock Holmes."

With an embarrassed smile, Shulk doffs his monacle and magnifying glass. "My apologies, Ness. I have to get in character. My British heritage is on the line."

"That, and your bloody crumpets."

"Enough sass from you. My crumpets are bloody brilliant. American wanker."

"British twit."

"Elementary, my dear Watson. That's MISTER British twit to you, tosser." Shulk flicks away his Detective hat into the pile of junk around his bedroom desk. "Ness, I can't see visions until the last second before an event. That, and I rely heavily on the Monado's power."

"But your visions are accurate."

"...ninety-nine percent of the time." Shulk admits. "You've had nightmares before. You know that future vision is both a blessing and a curse. I'd say, whatever it is - don't let what-could-be scare you into making your decisions."

"Thanks, that's solid advice... except I don't remember anything about my nightmares," I say grumpily.

"Not a single dream?"

"Well... I feel like I'm getting a few premonitions," I confess. "But for the past year or so, I've been having nightmares I can't remember. The last time I had nightmares this bad was when I... had to fight Giygas. But Giygas is gone. And I already sealed away "the evil inside me," so it's not that. So I thought you'd be able to help me figure out what the fuck is going on."

At this, Shulk straightens up, looking excited like a mad scientist. "You don't say? Could be a paranormal cause. You could be haunted."

"Who'd want to haunt me?"

"Good question. Luigi knows more about ghosts than I do. I'd ask him for his Ouija board, but he's been difficult to catch with Winter Formal coming up-"

"Hold on, just because I'm psychic doesn't mean I can talk to ghosts-"

"Mewtwo can talk to the Cubone's mother." Swiping off a translucent monocle that glints purple, Shulk eagerly leans in to examine me through it, like I'm some freaky zoo exhibit. "And last year, Lucas mistook a drunk ghost partying in the Mansion for a new fighter. The fellow was an alcoholic who died in a nearby frat house-" The lens turns cloudy opaque, before puffs of crimson leak into it. "Oh, that's quite intriguing-"

I push him away before his scientist cooties can infect my brain. "Okay, so say we can see ghosts. Why would one decide to haunt me now? I don't know any dead people except Everdred-"

"Most ghosts exist because they have unfinished business on Earth. People who died a sudden death. People stuck to the mortal realm because of a strong feeling that ties them here. Usually love or revenge. Either is a strong feeling. And if it's strong enough- you're an empath. Do the math. But WHY someone would haunt you... I don't have a single smarting answer, sorry."

"Not even a single clue?"

"Well, I have a few theories." Shulk says. "Ghosts have dulled physical senses. Their vision's abysmal. They have a tendency to wander into dreams in the hopes of finding what they're looking for- which is unfortunate, because ghosts confuse your brain in a dream. Your brain interprets their feelings in a manner that relates to you. So if a ghost is angry for instance, it's easy for them to trick your brain into believing that they're mad at you. But you think it's the same ghost each time, which is certainly bizarre... Whoever it is must feel a strong connection with you. You're lucky to see the same ghost wander into your nightmares over and over-"

"Lucky?"

"-So with that, I diagnose thee with an Accidental Haunt." In the manner of an eyedoctor about to examine a patient, Shulk straps a rubber gas mask on. Resembling a spider, the WWII-esque mask is covered in a ridiculous number of googly-eyed lenses. As I start feeling like an insect specimen pinned on some taxidermy plate, Shulk gives me a sheepish grin. Despite his uh, obsession with science and alchemy, Shulk genuinely knows what he's doing.

As if on cue, Shulk raises a corked flask. A swirly fog is trapped inside it.

"We don't have Luigi's Ouija board, but lucky for us, I've got this. Distilled Love's Source, dissolved with Acacia petals under the Full Moon, then evaporated at dawn with morning dew. This gas will increase affinity with the soul we want to contact in your nightmare. With this, we can see if there IS a murderous ghost haunting you."

"Awesome!"

"It'll also put you to sleep."

"Say what?"

"I warn you, this will be a weird experience. The gas shares similar properties with LSD-"

"Hold on, maybe this wasn't such a good idea-"

Then Shulk uncorks the flask, enshrouding my vision with fog.

.

.

~oO0Oo~

.

.

This time I wake up in a creepy cave.

The walls pulsate and contract like a heartbeat. Purple light glows and fades within the cracks like artificial arteries and veins. Several rocky platforms twist and turn into a dead end.

I don't think this is anyone's ideal holiday home.

More importantly, I recognize this place. It's a scene stolen straight from Lucas's GBA.

The Final Battle against the Masked Man.

When I step towards the dead end right ahead, I hear a crunch and lift up my shoe. A gemstone. More minerals glitter on the ceiling like the sugary rock candy I bought from the Onett museum in third grade.

A shadow flickers at the corner of my eye. In the same battle-ready position from over a century ago, a lone figure eyes me from the dead end. The chill of murder seeps into my skin.

It's him.

He's back to kill me.

An unearthly fury not mine blinds my eyes. We all die alone, even while surrounded by friends and family, and his last moments on Earth were painful and scary and angry.

But this time, I'm ready. Slowly, I breathe through my nose and close my eyes, searching through the haze for-

There.

A glow.

At the heart of his emotions. A soul trapped in his last throes of life.

"Claus."

The figure stops.

I clear my throat and repeat, "It's... It's Claus-" My voice turns uncertain when he doesn't acknowledge his own name. "Claus, right?"

The haze of anger dissipates. I can see again.

Then like an eraser, the blur on his outline disappears.

Up close, the Masked Man looks worse than Frankenstein. He's no longer enshrouded by shadow, but seeing him uncensored, I almost wish he was. One of his eyes is missing, replaced by a bionic red eye that gruesomely expands and contracts like he's adjusting his sight to my face. He's still clothed, but there are missing patches in his outfit, as if he's been seared alive with lightning. And if that wasn't bad enough, someone's loped off one of his arms, because his right stub's tied to a heavy, ill-fitting cannon.

But when he stops, struggling as he takes off his helmet with his only hand, it's like staring into a scarred copy of Lucas.

"Lucas," Claus croaks, his voice raspy and hungry and hopeful like he hasn't talked for over a hundred years.

I wish I could've said something cool like "obviously," or "nope, but I'm glad you decided not to kill me."

But instead, I fucking gape at him.

I'm talking to a dead person.

How is this possible?

When Claus repeats his question in a hoarse whisper, I shake my head. "No," I admit reluctantly. "Not Lucas."

His ghostly hands grabbing the sides of my face as if not believing me, Claus looks into my face. He lets go with a disappointed sigh, his voice peppered with holes like radio static. He doesn't seem to recognize me at all.

The cave echoes with Claus's somber voice. "I've been waiting here for over a hundred years."

"...You're dead," I say stupidly. Sue me, I'm in shock.

"I can't move on until Lucas does," Claus says, quieter still. "And I can't rest until Lucas finishes his quest."

"His quest?"

"-to...ake the...ark Dragon."

"What?"

Claus repeats his words, but I can't hear him.

"Look," I gesture frantically when Claus continues to speak. "I can't hear you-"

Then Claus looks me square in the face.

"Ness, I'm kidnapping you for the day."

.

.

~oO0Oo~

.

.

"Hello Master Andonuts. How can I help you today?"

"Hello Saturn. Confirm 10 AM appointment at SC Hospital, Psychiatric Ward."

"Messaging... Messaging... Appointment confirmed. Thank you."

"Thanks for nothing, Andonuts," I say grumpily from the seat of Jeff's sleek ride, though my face still feels groggy from Shulk's Naptime. "The first sentence you HAD to hit me with was Ness, I'm kidnapping you for the day."

"I had no idea you were under. I would've waited if I'd known," Jeff apologizes, leaning away from the speaker. "Did Shulk's dream therapy work?" His mouth pinches subtly in disapproval over the emphasized phrase, and I grin. Jeff doesn't believe that half of Shulk's experiments follow the "Scientific Method." Then again, if Jeff hadn't been roped into saving the world with me, Poo, and Paula, he probably wouldn't have believed in magic either.

But here we are.

"I talked to Lucas's dead brother."

Jeff frowns. "Repeat that?"

"Lucas had a twin brother. He died a sudden death. Suicide."

"Ah."

"I managed to get through to him by speaking from the heart or something, but we didn't get anywhere. Couldn't hear him. The afterlife has terrible reception. Might've been different if I were a telepath, but at least I remember everything now-"

"Five minutes until your destination."

"Thank you, Saturn," Jeff says without tearing his eyes from our conversation, like it's somehow fucking NORMAL to talk with a car. Then again, an hour ago, I was speaking with Lucas's dead brother, so I guess my point's moot.

"You're welcome, Master Andonuts."

"Your car talks. Do you know how creepy that is?"

"Creepier than talking to the dead?"

"Yes."

"Creepier than Giygas?"

"...I still have nightmares about Giygas."

Did I just blurt that out loud?

Fuck, I did.

I might've been mortified, except Jeff gets this unreadable look behind his glasses and says, "...so do I."

As weird as it sounds, his confession's good to hear.

In a lame attempt to kickstart the convo and steer the topic away from past trauma, I say the first thing on my mind. "So... your car drives itself. That's cool."

"Thanks, I've been testing the autodrive function for years. Helps that this city had an excellent road layout."

"And you named your car... Saturn?"

Jeff looks proud. "After the Mr. Saturn, yes."

"Sure thing. And it has absolutely nothing to do with your old crush on Sailor Moon," I smirk, and Jeff blushes.

"I-" he sputters indignantly. "It's named aptly after the Mr. Saturn after their contribution to the SkyTrain-"

"Whatever you say, Master Andonuts." When Jeff looks ready to die in his suit, or strangle me, or both, I laugh. Jeff was the last person I would've guessed to have liked Magical Girl transformations, but hey, my sister liked Sailor Moon too. She used to drag me into the living room to watch it together on Saturdays. It's a classic, I guess. Join the club, we're all weird.

After Saturn autoparks itself in one try (awesome) and we check in at the hospital (not so awesome), Jeff's empathy link turns taut. Beside me, Jeff's walking so tersely that he resembles a Minecraft sprite.

I break the ice again. "So remind me. Why did you kidnap me on this fine sunny morning?"

"You need to see this."

Jeff takes out an old, creased yellow page from his pocket. From the top, I squint at it. "...STUNODNA FO YTREPORP?"

"Not mine. Everything here's written upside-down and backwards - characteristic properties of the Da Vinci code - but that's not my point. You'll see in a bit."

We turn the corner into the second room of the psychiatric ward. Dressed in a comical yellow gown as opposed to the more common drab blue patient gowns around the area ("He's on suicide watch," Jeff mutters), the sole occupant stops scribbling into his notebook, and sits up in his bed at our approach.

Surprisingly, he's just how I remembered him. His glasses are small and round above his white hairbrush mustache, giving him a perpetually inquisitive look. He's bald except for two tufts of white hair, each puffing out from either side of his head like sticks of cotton candy.

When the man spots us, he smiles blandly and closes his notebook. The yellow gown makes him look like a rubber ducky. "Ah, did His Highness send you? It's too late. The Chosen Four are gone. No one can use the phase distorter to travel back in time anymore. The engine's broken beyond repair. Between you and me... I might've had something to do with it. Between you and me, mind you... or did you want intel on my son?" His smile widens into a tremulous line as he tightly clutches onto his notebook like a lifeline. Nervous sweat breaks out on his forehead. "Jeff wet his bed sometimes, but other than that, he was a good boy-"

Jeff slips out two things out of his pocket: a brand new lab notebook, and then, the old yellow page. "No. I'm here for your old lab book."

Dr. Andonuts's smile freezes on his face. He swallows nervously. "Y-you can't ask me about that. I've done some terrible things..."

"I found this page before you moved out of the lab. Where's the rest of it?"

"You don't understand. He... h-he would've killed me if I didn't comply-"

"Dad," Jeff says, straightening out the page and almost pressing it against Dr. Andonut's face. "I know what this page is. It's the Table of Contents from your old lab book. I'm here to ask you-" Jeff's voice turns tight as he points to something I can't see on the page. "...tell me you didn't do this."

As if the question's opened some forbidden secret, Dr. Andonuts gives a screech, then throws his hands over his eyes as if they could protect him against a piece of paper. "He would've killed me," he gasps, shaking. "I said no, because the child... the child was still alive. You don't understand, he would've killed me if I didn't do it-"

"Where's your notebook?"

"I can't! I can't tell you!"

"Ness," Jeff says, his eyes still locked on the pitiful form of his father. "Take away his guilt."

"But-"

"Only until he hands me his old lab book. It's easier to show you than tell you."

"I don't manipulate people," I interrupt him. "This is wrong-"

"My dad committed several atrocities and war crimes while he was missing. You said Porky kidnapped him. I think... I know how this links Lucas's timeline with ours, but I can't do this without you. This is the last piece of proof. I need you to make him feel comfortable enough to hand over his old lab book-" Jeff exhales, breaking composure. "This isn't easy for either of us."

Something about the painful wrench in my gut makes me waver.

I hope he knows what he's doing.

"All right. Just this once," I say quietly, resting my palms on Dr. Andonuts's rigid hands, now reaching for an old empathy link I haven't touched in years. I haven't spoken to Dr. Andonuts in a while, so his empathy link's slippery when I fumble for it in a tangle of other links. But when I grasp it with both hands, I close my eyes and lightly brush my fingers against his heartstrings, loosening out the knots and strumming it open like a guitar. With a final tug, the clogged empathy link unclogs, draining and emptying all his fear and guilt into my hands.

It's horrible.

I can still feel his terror suck me in like a whirlpool even after Jeff roughly shakes me on the shoulder to snap me out of it. I'm pretty proud of myself when I don't throw up from whiplash, and instead end up dry-heaving into the nearest trashcan.

Shit, what was that?

I haven't felt terror like this since Giygas.

"Are you okay?" Jeff says, startled. I'm not dazed enough to notice that during all this commotion, Jeff's replaced the notebook in his pocket for his dad's. Behind us, Dr. Andonuts looks cheerful for the first time during our visit, hugging the brand new notebook to his chest, too far gone or unwilling to realize that his own son's duped him.

"I heard someone screaming in pain-"

"No one screamed-"

I shove his hand aside, then breathe in to control myself as we walk out of the hospital and slump back inside his car. "Okay, tell me seriously. What's going on?"

As if to answer, Jeff flips through his dad's faded notebook from the back. Every passing entry looks yellower with time, and I can feel his heart sink with each page. I only catch titles in passing- Chimaera Fusion, Nice Person Hot Spring...

Then Jeff stops at a page.

When he shows me, the bottom of my stomach falls out from under me.

"Is this..." Jeff starts.

"We can't show this to Lucas." I can't tear my eyes away from the pages. There's a squeamish sketch of surgical tools slicing into a body. It's a dissection. While wide awake. No painkillers too. Gruesomely medieval. There's also a fucking pain scale of '10 fo tuo 11, lufniap ylemertxe' hastily scribbled down on the page, and several questions on whether or not a cyborg could feel pain.

More sketches litter the pages: eye surgery, arm amputation, even lobotomy.

Oh god, the lobotomy. The sketch is portrait size, and takes up two whole pages like an anatomy book. The left half of the face is a detailed, hyper-realistic undercut of muscle and brain; the other half shows facial features remarkably identical to Lucas's.

This isn't just fucked up.

This is beyond fucked up.

If possible, the bottom of my stomach sinks even lower.

"He would've killed me. I said no, because the child... the child was still alive. You don't understand, he would've killed me if I didn't do it-"

I think back to the screaming in my head. It sounded a lot like Lucas... if someone hypothetically tried to hack his arm off with a butcher knife and turn him into Porky's brainwashed slave.

It takes all my will NOT to throw up again.

Just as upset by the revelation, Jeff takes off his glasses, fixing his eyes on the ceiling as if to will the moisture in his eyes away. When he speaks again, his voice is unusually calm and resolute. "You know what this means, Ness."

"We have to take Porky down."

"The sooner, the better. We have to make Porky answer to the crimes he's committing now, and to the crimes he's gotten away with in the past. We spared his life. We're partially responsible for whatever devastation Porky's wreaked across time and space. And the longer we wait-" Jeff's eyes rest on the gruesome lobotomy. "The quicker history will repeat itself."

.

.

.

~oO0Oo~

.

.

.

"-ends the last ballroom recital. Good job, everyone!" Her smile brighter than any sun, Peach turns off the cheezy waltz music, and we step away from our practice partners. All too relieved, Fox and I quickly step away from each other. Captain Falcon gives a sheepish apology when Samus nurses her left foot.

Mario steals the spotlight as "Acting Hand", reminding us for the umpteenth time to be on "our-a best manners" because both the Hand Brothers are gonna be out of town for Winter Formal. Master Hand's off meeting up with a business partner in another dimension... Sasuke. Samurai. Sakurai. I dunno who the fellow is, but he must be important if Master Hand's ditching Winter Formal to talk gaming console sales.

"You okay, kid?"

I stare blankly at Fox. "Huh?"

"You've been out of it all practice."

"I'm okay."

He shrugs and walks away. "Well, if you say so. I'm grabbing a bite to eat."

I feel like I'm not in my own body. My feet drag themselves into the apartment. My phone buzzes as Jeff fills Paula and Poo in. The shoe rack's empty of a pair of tennis shoes. Lucas is still absent, no doubt still helping out the villagers in Tazmily.

I lie on the couch in a daze and think over how I indirectly killed Lucas's brother. If I hadn't spared Porky in my final battle against Giygas, Porky wouldn't have gone forward in time. Lucas's family would've been intact. Jeff's family would've been intact. The Tazmily Villagers would've been okay. Dr. Andonuts wouldn't have been forced to butcher a living boy into Porky's plaything.

Porky wouldn't have made his way to Lucas's world if it hadn't been for me.

I now understand what led Claus to commit Sudoku in the Final Battle.

There's no good way to break news like this to anyone, even if Lucas already knew about his brother's death. Obviously, I'm not going to show him the pics from Doctor Andonut's lab books, but I've got to tell him everything somehow. Lucas might replay Mother 3 at some point, and he's got a right to know.

My phone buzzes. For once, it's not Asshat.

Lookas 4:20PM
help
Lookas has sent you an attachment.

I open up the photo. Despite my shitty mood, the sight of a Lucas struggling under Alec's bread mountain in the front lobby makes me laugh without thinking.

Nuss 4:20PM
Yu need help?

Lookas 4:20PM
im god sorry for no caps textng with12finger

Nuss 4:21PM
u sure?

No response.

I think the bread mountain crushed him flat.

Taking this as a sign to help him out, I fly down the stairs to the lobby. Lucas has just managed to stack the bread into two passable piles in his arms when I dive over.

"You're crushing the bread," Lucas's breathless voice escapes from somewhere in the bread mountain, but when I don't let go, he clumsily reaches around and tries to pat my head. "...did something happen?"

"I need to tell you something. It's about your brother," I say seriously, now relieving Lucas of half his mountain, but before Lucas can ask, his face closes up, his eyes fixated on a figure by Security.

It's Flint.

And of course, he chooses the worst time to arrive.

Lucas looks ready to run away. Or stand his ground. Or neither.

Understandably, Lucas opts for the first, walking as quickly as he can to the stairs. Except Flint calls his name out. When Lucas stiffens up in place, Flint awkwardly slows to a halt, as if HE wasn't expecting this turn of events. Flint's eyes flicker first from his son, then to me. Though I met Flint back in Onett and told Lucas about the encounter, I can tell when two people want a private family talk.

Clearing my throat as loudly as I can, I clumsily try to stack more of Lucas's bread onto my pile. "Gimme the bread, I'll let you two talk-"

Lucas squeezes my hand in a death grip.

I force a smile. "Lucas," I make out through the side of my mouth. "What are you doing-"

"He stays," Lucas says, his eyes fixated on his dad as if daring him to argue.

Flint glances at our linked hands. Realizing that he's got no choice and that I'm too stunned to react otherwise, Flint reluctantly reaches for something folded up in his pocket. "I want you to keep this. It's not much, but it's all I have of value to give you after what I did to your possessions," he says quietly, pressing an envelope and a stack of laminated photos into Lucas's hands.

I recognize the photos.

They're the same family photos of Lucas's mom and brother on the mantelpiece.

When Lucas doesn't respond, Flint gruffly reaches for the brim of his hat and corrects it over his eyes. "Inside the envelope is some money I earned in advance. It'll take time, but I'll pay you back for the amount I owe you-"

"That's it?" Lucas suddenly speaks.

"It's all I have."

"I don't want money."

"Then what do you want."

Lucas gives into a humorless laugh. "An apology wouldn't hurt."

Flint's eyes flicker to me. He takes a deep sigh. "I know it hasn't been easy- I went overboard... the last time you were over. I'm sorry," he says gravely. When Lucas waits for him to continue, he reads Lucas's silence as the proper cue to go on. "I regret not telling you about- many things. But I have to stand firm against this. You can court anyone you want. You can be a fag. I'll respect your choice. But not him, Lucas. Anyone but him."

"Why not."

"He's too dangerous."

"We're both pretty dangerous-"

"Son. You're being petty." Flint's frustration shows in the subtle curve of his brow. "It's... You need to understand- it'd be different if you were-"

"-if I were Claus," Lucas says quietly, finishing his train of thought.

"...That's not what I said."

"That's what you meant."

"I've lost your mother, I've lost your brother. I'm not losing you too-"

Then Lucas slowly smiles. It's a painfully sad smile. "Dad... You lost me the day you kicked me out of your home."

I guess Flint doesn't have anything good to say against this, because he falls as quiet as a mouse. He doesn't even stop Lucas from leaving when Lucas shoves the wad of cash back into Flint's hands and stalks away. Doing my best to throw Flint a half-apologetic look, I hold onto the bread as Lucas drags me up the stairs.

The walk up is silent.

Lucas only speaks when we reach the dorms. "How much do I owe you for the rent?"

I jolt in surprise. "For what?"

"You asked Knuckles to hide my dad from Porky. Unless my dad's living on the streets, which he's clearly not, you paid in advance for my dad's rent. He can't afford anything here otherwise." When he catches my guilty expression, Lucas clumsily fumbles around his bread mountain to brush against my hand. "I'm not mad. I know why you did it, but I'm not happy with myself until I pay you back."

"I don't mind paying for it-"

"I'm not a charity case-"

"I know. The rent's a drop in the bucket for me, but that's not why I did it," I say firmly. "I paid for the month, because I want your dad to be safe. If we keep your dad safe, then we'd be keeping you safe. I don't want this to be a repeat of last Christmas. You can pay me back later if you REALLY want to, but I don't care. Honestly." I swallow. "If anything, I owe you."

"...thanks. I- " Over the side of his swaying bread mountain, Lucas gives me a frown. "Owe me for what?"

I can't look at his face. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"Porky's my fault."

"Not this again-"

"I'm-" Fuck, my throat's killing me. My eyes sting. "I'm really sorry. I know I can't repay you for what happened, but-"

With difficulty, Lucas presses a hand against my face, forcing me to look at him. Shame bubbles up my throat. There's probably other emotions he can read from our contact, but I can't identify all of them.

He pulls me into a hug.

It's an awkward one-armed, sideways hug, and he's dropped some loaves of bread cuz of the plastic crinkling on the floor, but Lucas doesn't seem to mind.

"I told you, it's not your fault," he mumbles, bending back over to pick up his fallen bread.

"I spared his life in the end-"

"Jeff's wrong. It was your decision to save Porky, but it was Porky's decision to ruin other lives."

"But... your brother-"

"Claus chose to avenge my mom's death, and he paid the price. If you don't think his death was my fault, then it's definitely not your fault that Porky chose to repay your kindness the wrong way." As we stuff the bread into the pantry, my phone buzzes again. When I grab my phone and crash on the couch, Lucas's mouth twists itself into a tight line. "I still think you should block Porky. He wants your attention, and you're giving it to him."

"No shit," I say, scrunching my face at the 50+ notifications he's left behind. It's almost pitiful, and I'd have felt sorry for him... but then I remember Porky's current crime record and the tortured screaming in my head, and don't feel too bad.

Though Porky's got leverage over Flint (hint hint child trafficking hint), it's obvious Porky's playing double dirty and holding Flint hostage to blackmail Lucas. And even with Flint safe, there's still the Tazmily Villagers. If Porky ever corners Lucas again, Lucas can't do squat.

God, Porky's face has never been more punchable in my life.

"I think 'Asshat' is generous. What should I dub him under my contacts? Thundercunt?"

"Just block him. I'm tired of him inviting and uninviting you to his birthday party fifty times a second," Lucas says exasperated, and I lean against his shoulder with a smile.

"Okay, then I'll soft block him after Winter Formal."

Surprisingly, I have extra picture frames in my closet, so we end up framing all of Lucas's family photos that afternoon, tidying them up on his side of the room. When Lucas finishes balancing his mom's smiling portrait on his desk, and holds onto my hand minutes later, his voice quiet and soft, I know what he's trying to say.

In turn, I send him as many good vibes as I can through our linked fingers.

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~oO0Oo~

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Twitter Page

Ness
(at BackthrowBoy)
The Earthbound Team is proud to invite Paula to Winter Formal! Watch Ness and Paula waltz on the dance floor tonight at 9pm (#PKFire! #MatchMadeInHeaven!)
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ItsaShmoe!
(at MarshmallowLand)
OMG!😍
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NesscasSquadwhereuat
(at yaoi4lyfe)
lol paulas a hoe
wheres lucas
i want 2 see my gey babies
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froot
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So much for being bisexual
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localize mother threee
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~oO0Oo~

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"I will never get used to that."

"He's just shedding-"

"Shedding? Lucas, he looks like a penis peeling back foreskin!"

"I dooo not," Rope Snake hisses crossly from Master Hand's Terrarium in the living room.

As Lucas rolls his eyes and tightens my tie, his own starry-midnight-whatever-the-fuck-blue suit resting on the couch, I can tell that Ashley's done his makeup today. She goes heavier on the mascara. Normally, it'd make anyone look like an emo goth, but Lucas kills it. He's kinda like Link and Marth in that way, I guess. Paradoxically androgynous. Lean enough to fit into anything, but fair enough to rock it. I'm a little sad he's always in tshirt and jeans, but all the outfits provided here are magically tailored for battle. Plus they're "Property of Master Hand." Or company property, in boring adult terms. We can't just swipe whatever we want off of any dress rack. That's called shoplifting.

Sticking out my tongue and lolling my head back, I pretend that he's hanging me by the tie until Lucas lets go.

"Don't insult Rope Snake. He's a good friend," Lucas mutters when Rope snake coils back around his stomach under his shirt for warmth.

He's not wrong. Jeff's said that Rope Snake's a supposedly rare species of the smart "Rubber Band" Snake Family, one of few species successfully domesticated by humans thousands of years ago, and able to withstand room temperature. And I'll admit, Rope Snake's friendly enough. Chatty too.

But of all the pets at his fingertips, Master Hand had to gift Lucas a talking snake.

Imagine if Master Hand got him a boa constrictor.

I shudder. I don't like snakes. I had to fight a Kraken during a boat ride during my adventure, and let's just say- I don't wanna wake up to a snake wanting to eat me for breakfast.

Rope snake flicks his tongue at me. I know snakes do that shit often, but I have a feeling he's flipping me off.

Don't worry, buddy. The feeling's mutual.

I eye Rope Snake as his head sways, now trying to wrap a coil around Lucas's arm. "I'm NOT hugging you with that thing around your waist."

When Lucas finally persuades a more-than-happy Rope Snake off with little effort (N-No. I'm ss-sstaying away from the loudmouth-), I tentatively reach out, running my hand through Lucas's hair. Instantly, Lucas drops his eyes to the floor, gentle color pooling up in his cheeks as he melts into my touch.

He's still so fucking shy.

I bite back a grin. It's wickedly awesome whenever I manage to break his composure and make him fluster, and really fucking adorable whenever Lucas threatens to trip over his feet into an embarrassed mess every time I hug him. He freezes up every time I kiss him. And every time we cuddle, I can almost feel the heat burning out of his reddened cheeks.

Self-conscious? Afraid?

I think both.

So I don't push him, and Lucas slowly peeks out of his shell. It's a temporary compromise at best, but I know that Lucas is trying his damnedest. He's trying so fucking hard to get out of his comfort zone, so I repay the favor by giving him as much space as he needs.

Even after his dad's disapproval, even after his brother's death, even after everything Porky's done...

Lucas is still here.

Especially after what happened to his brother, I owe him this happiness.

And though I give him shit for his height, the fact that he's taller only means there's more of him to love.

His cheeks now tinted pink after I give him a bruising kiss that leaves me grinning like an idiot, Lucas determinedly keeps his eyes on the door. "Okay, I'll see you... after Winter Formal. Maybe."

Maybe, my ass.

I tackle him down for seconds.

Thirds.

...more than thirds.

Oh yeahhh.

Of course, Lucas ruins the moment with his snark, gesturing at our not-so-romantic position by the shoe rack. "Why do we always end up on the floor."

"Hormones?"

"I was thinking gravity, but that works."

"I'm shameless and have no self control," I agree. "Now hug me."

"Your Twitter fans would be thrilled to hear that you blew off your Winter Formal date to dry-hump a random, closeted boy by the shoe rack," Lucas quips, but his snark lacks bite. I know this, because his eyelids flutter up a little when I cuddle him.

His eyes gleam. Before I know it, Lucas blindsides me, flipping and pinning me onto the floor. "Hey, unfair," I complain. Then he kisses me back and I'm laughing and fuck it, we're such a happy mess fuck if I know.

It's almost enough to make me forget about tonight.

Almost.

But despite Lucas's best efforts to lighten up my mood, it doesn't work.

"Ness," Lucas mumbles when I grip onto his hands. "It's okay-"

"No, it's not."

A gentle prod. "Why not?"

I grip onto his hands tighter. I'm probably crushing his fingers, but my nerves refuse to let him go. "There's a good chance I'm bumping into Porky tonight, and..." I need you to stay safe. Don't go anywhere. Stay here. I swallow down my nerves. "I could really use you here for backup."

As always, as if reading my mind, Lucas slowly returns my hands with a reassuring squeeze of his own. His magic's addicting, shooting up my heart like a gold rush. You know where to find me, he says.

My nerves quieting down, I rest my head against his shoulder.

We meet Paula at the foot of the elevators. Her light blue dress reminds me of bubbly seafoam when she waves at us. A bracelet of pearls shakes on her wrist from the motion.

"Ayyy," I fingergun as we trudge over to her.

"You ditched the hat!" Paula exclaims, reaching over to finger one of my no-longer-messy, glossy locks. "Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?!"

I grin. "I still snuck my yo-yo in."

"I thought there were no weapons allowed?"

"What weapon? All I see is a cheap plastic toy."

"If Tingle busts you, I'm ditching yo- Hello Lucas. Sorry for sidelining you there. Ness's sudden fashion statement was a shocker. When are you dressing into your suit- actually, forget that," Paula says, clasping his hands. "Who did your hair tonight?! I mean, it's always well kempt, but you look stunning!"

We laugh when Lucas flusters.

In the background of fancy princess gowns and expensive tuxes, the babble swells as we hear the clinking of champagne glasses and laughter, hear Tingle's metal detector go off like a muffled alarm clock.

Well.

This is it.

I turn to Lucas, trying to swallow down a contagious grin. "I'll see you tonight. Go on up."

"...Okay," Lucas says softly, looking at the floor. I think he's still too flustered to speak beyond one word sentences.

We turn to watch Lucas take the main staircase, but almost instantly, he disappears into the crowd of colorful dresses and petticoats.

Tingle's metal detector beeps again.

The night hasn't begun yet, but there's already a hole in my heart.

As if feeling the same, Paula gently rests a hand on my shoulder. "He'll be okay," she says, taking the words out of my mouth.

My mind clears.

I breathe in, and offer my arm to Paula. "Ladies first," I joke.

Breaking into a giggle, Paula loops our arms together, and we make our way to the Auditorium.

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~oO0Oo~

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Nuss 6:02PM
Luke
Paula found chocolate fondue
Nuss has sent you an attachment (3)

Lookas 6:04PM
That looks good
I'm jealous

Nuss 6:05PM
I wish yu were here

Lookas 6:05PM
Me too

Nuss 6:05PM
:O

Lookas 6:05PM
Gogo
Don't leave Paula hanging
I'll defeat Cuphead on your honor

Nuss 6:05PM
:)

Lookas 6:05PM
:))

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~oO0Oo~

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Master Hand's turned the auditorium into a multi-tier dining hall.

Pink ribbons decorate the walls. Roses blossom along the overhead balconies, their thorns trimmed and their petals glittering with dew. Replacing the Christmas Tree at the heart of the room is a milky Chocolate Fountain, a Willy Wonka masterpiece that glistens over the dessert aisle. Heart-shaped strawberries and dainty cut fruits for fondue lie on glistening crystalline plates like they're sunbathing. Chefs work behind all tables, serving food fresh from the pan to the plate.

There's other fancy food too, but as I balance my plates of food, we bump into another Smasher.

"Two full plates already, before the dance? The food's not going anywhere, pal."

"Uh, Samus!" I perk up sheepishly, caught in the act. "One plate's for Lucas... I wanted to save him food in case he showed up late-"

Her hair in a complicated braid, Samus frowns. "There's no need to carry that plate around all night. What else do you wanna give him?"

"Just the cavier-"

"No problem. Here-" Samus flags down a waiter, requests something, and in a flash, the waiter's gone with my extra plate. "They'll keep the food for you to pick up at the end."

"Thanks," I say relieved.

"Don't sweat it." Samus turns to my date for the night with a smile. "A pleasure, Paula."

"Hello, Samus." Paula's eyes turn round with awe. "Your gown looks amazing."

"Thanks. These high heels are killing my feet though. They're somehow harder to wear than my power suit. I don't know how you or Bayonetta do it."

Paula gives her a sympathetic shake. "I have to take them off every once a while."

"I can imagine. Let Ness know when you have to take a break." Samus nods. "See you two around."

"..She's antsy," Paula says quietly to me when Samus wobbles away in an undignified manner, clearly unused to high heels. "Do you think...?"

I force a smile. "She just feels naked without her gear. I do too. Wish I could've taken my bat. Lucas offered me Rope Snake, but he's shedding, and I do NOT want to stuff a snake down my pants, thanks-"

"Stuff what down your pants, darling?" Bayonetta asks airily, strutting over in her eleventeen inch heels like a model on a catwalk. How she does that so effortlessly without breaking her ankles, I have no idea.

"N-Nothing," I stammer, embarrassed.

"Oh, that's such a damn shame. I thought I heard someone possibly talking about smuggling in arms-" Bayonetta throws us a naughty wink before tossing aside her ballgown. It's just a flash, but I see several firearms - rifles, hand guns, a revolver, Samus's whip... and is that a flamethrower? - strapped to her thighs before the floating gossamer of her dress covers it again. "-but we all know that's a load of codswallop. Well then, enjoy the party, dears."

Then as if she's not weighed down with several pounds of gear that would make an army sergeant jealous, Bayonetta struts away, following Samus's footsteps to the colorful platter of macarons.

"...What the fuck?" I manage, and Paula breaks out into a laugh.

"I think I saw an entire bottle of vodka strapped on her left calf-" Paula adds with a whisper, wiping at her eyes. "Oh, oh. Bayonetta's a character. I love her already."

"She's like, everyone's crazy weird aunt."

"Oh, my sides-" Paula melts into another round of laughter.

"Serious face, serious face," I remind her, though I'm mirroring her fucking grin. Paula takes several deep breaths, and nods.

"Right. Serious face." Then we take one look at each other, and enter another helpless fit of laughter.

When we magically manage to stop laughing at some point and return to our senses, we comb the crowd for a familiar wheezing face. "Do you see him?" I whisper.

"Not yet," Paula speaks, slowly but surely, and the glow in her eyes dies. Sometimes, I wonder why Master Hand never offered her a place on the roster. My signature magic might be a mass wave of noise and destruction, but Paula could reach me in my sleep from miles away. Her empath powers were so powerful that I first mistook her for a telepath.

For crying out loud, she sealed Giygas away with the power of prayer.

If there's anyone who can track Porky down like a bloodhound in this crowd, it's her.

Despite her relative obscurity here, Paula turns more than a few heads. A few are unpleasant- Purposefully shifting myself around to block someone leering at her chest (and giving him a good glare back), I keep a lookout for her, declining when strangers kindly offer us their drinks, no matter how polite they are. Porky's spiked Lucas's drink before. I'm not falling for that trick again, buster. We both know better than to leave our drinks unattended.

On the other hand, much more welcome fans of Paula flock around, admiring her dress and asking for connections in the model industry. They lament and exclaim when Paula confirms her resignation. She's dead serious on quitting the model industry this year.

"Master Hand invited me and Poo to help you with your final smash- didn't he tell you?" Paula says when I look surprised.

"I think he wanted to keep it a surprise until after tonight."

"Fair enough." Paula smiles up at the chandelier. "I can't believe it, Ness... If everything works out, I'll be moving here to study and work part-time on scholarship. I've always wanted to be an inspiration to children- Oh, that would be wonderful."

"It would," I agree, and Paula beams.

At the Wagyu station, we pass Link and Zelda, who toss us identical smiles before returning to their discussion over buying a house at Hateno Village (Not too far away, Ganondorf rolls his eyes and chugs two glasses of champagne, and Zelda shoots him a displeased look- she has yet to forgive him for her father's death). Over by the chocolate fountain, Jigglypuff giggles when Kirby bashfully offers her a bouquet of flowers, and not too far away, Marth - practically a Chosen 12 honorary despite his first debut in Melee - flusters when a fan asks for his autograph.

We greet more people: Smashers, sponsors, daughters and sons of rich important people. Couples look thrilled that we're "together." Others take us for a platonic team. Then there's an awkward bunch who don't catch our social cue, and curiously inquire about our relationship. Mostly reporters. Whenever the question comes up, Paula and I pretend to flirt around, or skirt around the topic. But keeping Lucas's advice in mind, I don't initiate anything aside from friendly handholding or teasing.

I haven't asked Paula if she still likes me. It's a dangerous question. I'm not crossing this bridge tonight.

As if sensing my guilt, Paula doesn't overstep the playful flirting.

She deserves someone better than me.

When I manage to distract another reporter, I rejoin Paula at the Soup Bar. My face hurts from all the forced smiling. I love people, but reporters from gossip magazines are always a mixed bunch.

"What?! You dug in without me!" I say distraught when Paula enjoys her tea cup sample.

"You looked like you had it handled." Paula looks amused as I swipe a tinyass sample for myself. For a prissy socializing event, there's so much food here that they're keeping all the samples comfortably small. Rich people portion sizes. "How was the reporter?"

"She was better than... you know who."

"The reporter from your PREVIEW interview?"

I shudder. "She was a witch."

"The way she handled your interview was dreadful. Cracking locker room jokes on screen and all," Paula agrees, offering me a spoonful of French Onion soup, which I decline. "You're in luck, because she's not a reporter anymore. She was in hot water for a while. Your interview was the final straw." My cell dings in my pocket. Paula stops scanning the room when her Hello Kitty phone buzzes along. Her face falls as she shows me the group text. "Poo couldn't make the dance tonight, but Jeff's splitting up to check the stage while we're on. He's got front seats to the performance-"

"Yeah, but where's his seat?" I say, now watching a huge crowd of masked people teeter their way past a confused Tingle, who waves his metal detector around as if questioning its validity. It's well past opening night, and the lack of Porky is disturbing. "He texted us earlier, but I don't remember the number-"

Overhead on the lowest balcony, Mario interrupts us, reminding all party-goers to don their masks for the Masquerade Ball.

Shit. At this rate, we're never gonna find Porky.

But whatever Mario says goes, so struggling with the elastic band, I glumly put on my gray Robot mask.

Paula's worried eyes blink through her Magic Butterfly mask. Transparent sequins dot its soft silk. "Ness, don't you think this is too strange? We've only got five minutes until the Waltz, and I don't sense Porky at- aH-" As if she's tripped over something, Paula clings onto my arm to keep her balance, and I turn around to see that some masked asshole's grabbed her by the arm.

"Hey! Let go of my friend," I snap, prying Paula out of his grip. The man's normal enough, but he's got an odd inflection, like his voice box is literally an echo chamber.

"Are you two together?"

I ignore the man, instead checking on Paula. "Are you okay?"

"...I'm okay," Paula says, narrowing her eyes at the rude man, who tilts his head inquisitively in question. "Come on, Ness. Let's go-"

The man now makes a grab for my shoulder. This fucker seriously has no respect for personal boundaries.

"Dude, what's your problem?" I demand, whirling around.

"Are you together?"

"That's none of your business. Leave us alone!"

"You are... not together?" His eyes look blank through the mask. The eerie, faraway stare sends chills up my spine. "Ness. Are you... dating someone else? Someone... not here?"

"Ignore him, babe. We're due for the dance," Paula emphasizes, and I play along.

"Anything you say, sugar-" Even without him here, I can almost feel Lucas's invisible eyeroll. He fucking hates pet names. That gives me the courage to lay the flattery on thick and finish the act, pretending to serenade her out. "Paula, you're my forever girl. So let's dance until the stars... uh, die and explode."

As we leave, I can feel the man's eyes bore into my back.

"Let's dance until the stars die and explode? That's a first," Paula's quick to laugh when we're out of earshot backstage, and I give a defeated groan.

"Cut me some slack, I couldn't think of anything. That man was rude and-" He's still staring our way when I peek through the crack between the stage curtains. Fucking creep. "At least he's not Porky."

Paula bites on her lip. "Ness... That man gave me some weird vibes."

"Weird how?"

"He was... empty. I don't know how to explain it. Almost like I couldn't feel-"

Mario interrupts our hushed conversation with a jolly clap. "Ciao, Paula, Ness. You-a both look-a lovely tonight. Remindah, we're-a on in a few."

My phone dings.

Mario gives me a knowing look. "Silencio your phones, or leave them behind the stage-"

"Okay bossman, gimme a sec." I flip my phone out.

Lookas 8:59PM
Sorry something came up
Don't worry, I'll be back later tonight

I share a worried look with Paula.

"It could be a wardrobe malfunction. He said he'll back later tonight."

"I hope so." I swallow down my nerves. "...you were saying earlier?"

Mario calls everyone to take their positions. A polite way of saying Shut up, Ness.

Catching sight of the stage curtains shifting, Paula shakes her head. "Let's talk right afterwards," she whispers, pushing me next to Fox. We wait for the announcer onstage to finish his intro speech.

The curtains lift up.

Someone plays the piano.

Stepping in tune, I bow as Paula faces me with a curtsy. From the corner of my eye, I make out the nearest Smashers. To my right, Fox offers his arm to his girlfriend, who smiles and takes his hand. Her powers tickle my mind. The psychic Vixen, Krystal. On my left dances Marth and his beloved, Caeda.

With an identical smile plastered on my face, I follow the other smashers like a factory line, waltzing Paula counterclockwise around the circular dance floor.

As the newly wedded couple, Luigi and Daisy are the obvious stars of the tonight's show. Around Daisy, Luigi looks relaxed in his Jester-like Dimentio Mask, showing no sign of slowing down or stuttering in his footsteps.

We finish the first twirl. Second twirl.

As I lead Paula into the third twirl at the front of the stage, Paula's empathy link goes cold. In that split second, I follow her eyes to the same masked man who harassed us earlier.

We don't finish the third twirl.

Because as one, hundreds of masked men rise like marionettes in the audience. The rest of the seated guests watch them and murmur in confusion. There's a click, like someone's pressed in a tape cassette into their mouth.

The piano dies.

Then the man in the front reaches into his pocket and says in his bland, record voice. "Ness, let's be friends forever."

And aims his gun at me.

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~oO0Oo~

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It takes a split second to realize three things at once:

One, the gun looks like a Fun-size For All Ages cousin of Tabuu's Dark Cannon. Any hit from those arrows is an instakill.

Two, Paula has no immunity in this world. I have a feeling those fun-sized arrows aren't gonna be fun for her.

Three, we've been duped. Porky's never shown up in the first place.

Instinctively, I throw myself into Paula just as the man fires. Except fuck, I timed the dive too early-

A flash of red. The giant arrow swishes miles over my head.

...okay, I'll take that.

This is all the time Link needs to swipe a Pot Lid off one of the tables and slam the man into the ground. The man falls. His mask slips off his face, before his head cracks open into a pinata of gears and wires.

Oh yeah, four. It's a Porky bot. Slimmed down and changed voicebox, but the similarities are obvious. Of course it's a Porky bot.

Bowser roars. "Ambush!"

"Get-a the guests to safety!" Without the Hands here, Mario's a welcome voice of authority. There's a well-disguised undertone of shock hidden in his voice as he shields us from the confusion and chaos. "Ness, Paula? Are you-a hurt?"

Paula accepts his hand up. "Not at all, thank you."

Shot guns ring in the chamber. Screams echo around as people trample the ground for the emergency exits.

When Mario pulls me up, I start, "We need to help-"

But in a tone that opens no room for argument, Mario pushes me behind the stage curtains. "We will-a deal with this. You know the-a emergency exits. Take Lady Paula to safety. Into a safe room. Or outside the mansion, if you-a can."

"Mario, wait-"

"You will-a not-" The alarm shrieks. Glancing in its direction with a torn expression, Mario finally shoves me and Paula with a stern look. "Go."

He leaves.

I struggle to my feet, about to follow him, when Paula grabs hold of me with a frantic whisper. "No, you were almost shot-"

"Jeff's out there."

"Porky's after you-"

"Porky's here BECAUSE of me. Jeff's an assist trophy, and I'm a part of the roster. We have immunity in this city. You're the one that could've gotten killed," I press, pulling her by the hand and dragging her down the stairs backstage. No one follows us. The bots must've taken the bait. With a flurry of magic, I kick open a camouflaged trapdoor, and rush through my words, "After Tabuu, the Twelve made 12 Safe Rooms throughout the Mansion. This one's mine. If you jump in, you'll see a glowing door at the end of the hallway. As long as you keep that door shut, no one can get in, okay? We've got DNA scans, and you're on the guest list. You'll be fine. And if someone's already hiding there, the password's OKAY. There's electricity and food, so lie low until you hear the All Clear-"

"I'm not staying in a bunker while two of us are out there!"

"Paula-"

She refuses to let go. "We're in this together."

I squeeze her hands with a painful smile. "...not in this. It's too dangerous. Sorry."

Before she can finish her sentence, I dash back to the fray. Perfect timing too. The second I burst out of the stage curtains, I spot a bot locking onto a cowering Assist Trophy. Before the spell escapes from my mouth, my PK Fire's out, charring it into a whirlwind of nuts and bolts.

There's another crack of a gun. Before I can dodge, a roar of flames engulfs the Porkybot behind me.

My savior gives me a wild smile. "Let's find Jeff together," Paula says, her fingers crackling like lit matches.

We pass the (otherwise empty) atrium and rejoin the Twelve et al at the main lobby.

And let me tell you.

There is confusion. Everywhere.

Thanks to the Masquarade Ball, The masked bots blend in with the masked fleeing party guests, so it's hard to target anyone without getting up close and personal. For the first few seconds, we're too busy defending the party guests to retaliate while our assassins try to nick us down one by one. Lucky for us, the Porky bot two-point-ohs make themselves at home by infesting the Mansion like pests, so once Chrom and security clear the guests out, we turn to the offensive.

It's mass carnage.

Porky's attack took place on the worst night possible.

We've got good reflexes, I'll give us that. Within seconds, the Twelve's stacked all the tables into a giant Les Miserables barricade, blocking any bots from leaving the front doors. Kirby swats as many arrows as he can with his makeshift hammer, redirecting their aim with a pudding plate. Luigi and Mario hurl flaming dish plates like deadly frisbees, knocking the bots' heads clean off their shoulders. Grabbing a metal head, Captain Falcon hollers and bowls over row after row in an impressive record of STRIKEs that would've qualified for the Guinness World Record. On the outskirts of the Dinner Table barricade, Yoshi charges onto battle like a noble steed, headbutting anyone in his path, and hitching a ride, Pikachu electrocutes opponents left and right. Shearing off her dress with a broken wine glass, Bayonetta reveals her goods, and with a curt thanks, Fox mows down the faraway-shooters with impeccable aim. I wrap around and reel in as many bots as I can with my yo-yo, and Paula does the honors, barbecuing them well done. Mario tosses me a look of disapproval, but as I guessed, doesn't complain. We're pushed against the wall as it is. Literally.

Despite our battle experience, we're outnumbered. Most of the Twelve (and other people from the roster unlucky enough to be here) don't have real weapons following Winter Formal protocol. The bots, on the other hand, sink their fingers into the ceiling or scurry up the Roman columns to snipe at us with ease. From time to time, we accidentally destroy an elevator or set important furniture on fire- oh, and there goes the chocolate fountain.

If we manage to get through this, Master Hand's gonna have a hell of a bill to pay.

An eerie sound fills the hall; all our phones buzz in sync with the fallen. Buzz. An arrow takes out a Jigglypuff, her signature Rest betraying her like a double-edged sword. In a blaze of gold, her amiibo topples over the barricade. Buzz. Buzz. Two more trophies thunk against the floor: Donkey Kong and Bowser - Heavy weights too slow to avoid the next wave. There's no time to recover anyone. Every person alive counts.

I don't see too many of Chrom's security team standing, but as our phones vibrate with a CODE RED (Worst of all, I hear someone's fucking Baby Shark ringtone tossed in the mix...), I'm relieved when more Smashers from the roster trickle down the stairs in scattered waves. With the elevators down, all of them look like they've run a Boston Marathon from their dorms.

Even with reinforcements, the fight's close. Seriously. I can't tell if we're even winning. More like surviving, at best.

Marth brandishes a poker stick in place of a sword, stabbing and sheshkebabbing as many bots as he can with the tip. "We each need to take down about ten!"

"Ten? Try thirty." Her electric whip knocked aside, Samus furiously hacks away at a bot with her high heel until the heel shatters in her hands. "Fuck! Stupid pieces of junk ruined my dagger-" Samus swears, hopping on one bare foot to unhook her other glass heel off with both hands. "Of all days I leave my power suit behind, THIS shit happens-"

Bayonetta tosses her a spare gun. Samus snatches it, firing two shots that hit their marks before her trigger clicks empty.

"Mother of- I'm already out."

"I've got a few more booby traps left in me," Bayonetta purrs, suggestively wiggling her chest at her, and with a grunt, Samus plunges a hand down into Bayonetta's cleavage, expertly snatching more bullets out and reloading her gun. "So darling... how about that dinner date?"

"I don't do dates."

"I should hope not. It's very unladylike to fuck on first sight," Bayo smirks. "How about tomorrow night? Seven O'clock-"

Taking note of her words, Samus shifts her aim, blasting a sneaky bot climbing up the balcony. "Don't serenade me. We're in the middle of something here."

"Is that a confession?"

"I'll reconsider if we both survive the night."

"Well then, dear, I won't keep you waiting." Switching back to business, Bayonetta shoots another bot through the eye with her bullet arts.

A roar deafens our ears. As if he'd tried to swerve and dodge an attack, Charizard painfully crashes into a balcony in jet speed, and on his back, I catch a flash of a pale-faced Red as Charizard crumples to the floor beside us. Behind our barricade, Toon Link yelps as he deflects an incoming arrow with a successful parry, crashing backwards against the doors from the momentum. Leaking machine oil from his broken arm, MegaMan gropes around for something to stop the gushing.

Maybe this is why Marth suddenly changes tactics, because as he drags me and Paula behind the Ring of Fire, he yells, "Save the children!"

When Link distracts the offensive with a glowing blue Sheikah bomb, its explosion rattling the room like a thunderclap, Zelda transforms into Sheik and rushes Toon and Red in the direction of the nearest emergency Safe Room.

"I'm a member of the Twelve too-"

"You are underage-"

"I can fucking fight!"

Tired of our stupid bickering, Ganondorf DORIYAHS through, the force of his warlock punch sending another mannequin flailing into the third balcony. Instant annihilation. "For Hyrule's sake, we're outnumbered. The boy can fight," he snarls.

Stubbornly keeping his eyes ahead and engaging in battle, Marth only slashes his poker stick across another foe. "Roy, Ike-"

With a nod, Ike grabs me and Paula under each arm like footballs. In a silent agreement, Roy fumbles for a fizzling MegaMan, spare parts and all.

"Sorry," Ike grunts, dashing us away when Mario and Luigi give cover this time with their projectiles.

Once Roy screams the password, Sheik swings the door open. We're unceremoniously crammed into the Safe Room. Roy shoves us in, while Ike slams the glowing door shut after him. Gripping their weapons like it's the zombie apocalypse, they ready themselves to counter at the slightest hint of danger. The gleam of their swords reflect off their tense faces.

Thump.

Thump.

...The door holds.

Ike turns to Sheik. "Caeda and Krystal?"

"Chrom got them out in time. Daisy and Peach are in Mario's Safe Room. We're to stay here, while everyone else is to report to the Front Doors."

Link's Safe Room is cramped with the injured. Along with the freshmen, there's a few Assist Trophies huddled together in the corner. Finally letting his trainer assess his clipped wing, Red sprays a potion onto his wounded Charizard, who growls and bares his teeth as his injury flares up with pain. MegaMan tries to reassemble his broken arm. Villager runs around in a blind panic, no longer bothering to sign words because panic is a pretty universal language, and Toon cradles his arm with a hiss.

Furious, I sit back up. "Let me out."

"Do not teleport," Sheik says.

"I can fight. They're outnumbered, and I haven't found-"

"-Ness?" A pause. "...Paula!"

Instantly, I turn around at his voice. "Jeff!"

Aside from a scraped knee, Jeff's untouched, much to our relief. As Paula does her best to treat Toon's sprained arm, Jeff fills us in. "When everyone started running, I didn't know if you two were okay. So I turned back, and ended up here-"

"Don't fucking worry us! We thought we lost you-"

"Not the case." Through his sooty glasses, Jeff cracks a proud smile. "With reinforcements, we should be able to take down all the-"

Jeff's interrupted by the sudden sound of our phones.

A morbid silence hangs in the air.

Then another quiet buzz.

Someone's gone down. And worst of all, I know who. One by one, each of my empathy links flicker and die like a lightbulb.

First, Yoshi and Pikachu.

Kirby. Fox. Captain Falcon.

The death toll speeds up.

Link.

Marth.

Samus.

Mario.

And just like that, the Twelve are gone.

No.

They can't be gone.

"Ness," Paula whispers as I still fucking feel the death toll rise-

It's only when her grip on my shoulder turns firm, that I face her. When did my hands start sparking? When did I fall to the ground? I don't remember my knees failing me at all. "Ness, your emotions are leaking out."

I swallow, noticing Toon shiver from the sudden wave of emotion. I try to push it down. "Sorry, I'll-"

I stop. An incredibly odd swooping sensation takes over my mind, like I'm somewhere else. A fleeting tingle on the arm - feels like a cut. Another tingle on the leg - a gash. A multitude of feelings take me by storm, tickling me from head to toe. Then there's this horrible, empty, aching sensation that claws up my heart and swallows it whole.

Grief.

And it isn't mine.

Pain sears me alive from inside, and I double over. Fuck. This somehow feels worse than when Paula got kidnapped in Fourside. When Jeff met his dismissive father after 10 years. When Poo lost both his arms, legs, ears, and eyes. The pain of this loss makes Dr. Andonuts' pale like a candle in comparison. It's a pain worse than any pain imaginable.

Lucas's empathy link trembles like a taut wire.

Then just as abruptly, his empathy link violently snaps into two.

Someone gasps beside me.

I'm still a million miles away. "Paula-"

"I felt it too." Paula clutches her chest. She's on the verge of tears. "I felt it through you."

"What?" Jeff says, confused, looking back and forth between us. "Where-"

"Tazmily," quietly hisses my pocket, and I almost scream. Holy mother of- When did Rope Snake get in there?

Also, Tazmily?

Why the fuck would Lucas go to Tazmily at this hour?

Unless...

Oh no. Oh no no no no.

I whirl around. "Wh- and you stayed behind?!"

"He got worrieddd. S-ssaid to watch over youuu," Rope Snake huffs, unshrinking and unwrapping himself from my yo-yo to slither out of my dress pants. "Who d-d-id you think saved you and your g-g-girlfriend? U-Ungrateful ch-cheater-"

"Who are you callin a- hold on, when did you-" The flash of red. Rope Snake must've deflected the first shot. Great, now I owed Lucas's Rope Snake an apology for saving my life. My day can't get any shittier than this.

Jeff and Paula give each other a knowing look.

Closing in, Jeff claps a hand on my shoulder. His eyes look dead serious. "Ness. Go to Tazmily."

"But the attack," I croak. "I can't leave you guys here-"

Paula tries to smile. "We'll manage. Stay safe."

"If it's too dangerous, teleport back. We can regroup afterwards for our next course of action," Jeff says, lowering his voice so Sheik can't hear. "I'll distract the other Smashers, so-"

"This is serious, huh?" Toon Link says, limping over. He struggles to make a frown. "I don't know everything that's going on, but I'll... I'll distract Sheik. Villager's pocketed all the swords. So..." Toon flaps his hands. "Get going. Hurry!"

And just like that, my friends cover me.

The freshman gang continue clustering around Ike and Roy. MegaMan steals Roy's attention by waving his broken arm, and Roy leans in for a closer look. When Toon falls to the floor, wailing about his sprained arm, Sheik walks over.

Jeff readies his ray gun.

Ike notices the motion, and reaches for his (mysteriously empty) hilt. Villager gives him a cheeky shrug.

Before anyone can react, Jeff flashes a blinding light into the mirrors.

...

Ness tried Teleport!


Author's Note:

Shoutout to asiananimator: they've done it. I've heavily hinted at an Ace/Lesbian Samus. And another shoutout to Mouse, who dubbed Porky a 'Thundercunt,' and a shoutout to ConnorTheSpelingPro for mask decor inspiration. Awesome readers are awesome.

Fanfiction doesn't let me embed fake tweets, so I crossposted this chapter on A03. As a parallel to many celebrities owning a social media page, Ness has a "formal" twitter in this AU, but doesn't post on it. His Agent and PR team handle it for him. I don't really own social media, so I did my best.

Enjoy! ╰(▔∀▔)╯


*True Fact: Da Vinci used Mirror Writing for his works.

*In several cultures, Acacias are plants that stand for remebrance and immortality of the human soul, and often placed on graves for this reason.

*In Xenoblade Chronicles, Love's Source is the only item in-game that boosts any character's Affinity to 100 points (or four hearts).

*In the very end of Earthbound, Ness gets a letter from Porky Minch with the words "Come and get me, loser! Spankety Spankety Spankety." Players don't find out what happened to Porky until Mother 3.

*In Earthbound, Paula gets kidnapped at the Department Store, Jeff meets his father out of Winters boarding school, and Poo undergoes his final stage of "Mu" training where he temporarily gives up (control over) his arms, legs, ears, and eyes to prove himself worthy. "Mu" and the concepts of "Mu" presented in Earthbound are thought to be a parallel to "Buddhism" in real life.

*Later on in Mother 3, players realize that Porky kidnapped Dr. Andonuts from his time. It is implied that Dr. Andonuts was held against his will, and was forced to create together some (if not all of) the unnatural chimaeras that begin to infest Lucas's home. The creation of chimaeras is an example of Porky's character as a child at heart. As one brainwashed(?) soldier in his Pigmask Army wrote under his dictatorship: "All the creatures around here suck. We need to make 'em cooler. So the theme will be: Tougher! Rougher! Badder!"

*In Mother 3, there is a scrapped sprite of surgical tools working on the Masked Man. As for what part of the game this sprite was supposed to be used, is anybody's guess.

*In Mother 3, along with Chimaeras, Porky also introduces the "Nice Person Hot Spring." On the laboratory level of New Pork Building, animals and humans alike are trapped in capsules full of an eerie green liquid. Soaking in this "hotspring" brainwashes anyone into loving and wanting to serve Porky Minch. It is implied (and confirmed) that Porky stole people from other timelines and brainwashed them into serving him as soldiers, citizens of his own city, and prostitutes (possibly implied on his Fan Club floor).

*Ness wearing a Robot mask for the ball is based off an event in Earthbound; he and his party are forced to confront Giygas in robot bodies, built by Dr Andonuts to transcend space-time.

*Luigi was omitted from Ness's list of Twelve. All part of the plan. Kudos if you noticed :)