Prologue: ?
The universe doesn't like it when I do the right thing.
That's the conclusion I've reached. That's all it can be, because every time we've gotten close to success, something else has gone wrong.
The Onett First Brigade is ruthless, loading us up onto horses without a word. They don't fuss, they don't hassle, they just do it. Perhaps if we'd done the same, we'd have reached our destination. Even now, Elmore witters away, Reggie grumbling, Pusher shouting obscenities.
"It's your fault, Steven! You should've seen these people coming!"
...I don't know if I've ever felt this low.
The horses don't walk for long. When we're a mile or so from where we were, the leader barks an order, and everybody starts to dismount. I'm escorted with the others, overseen by a silent guard with an enormous shield. A crust of bread is shoved into my hand, I'm ordered to sit by a tree, and then I'm told to wait.
The camp seems to materialise around me. Some soldiers draw sleeping packs out of their saddlebags, rolling them out on the ground. Others take out weapons, wood, and hay for the horses. Makeshift structures are built, and a fire is promptly lit. I try to stand, to scout out the area, but the guard with the big shield blocks my path.
"No exit for runners."
Runners. That's what they call us.
Heaven knows how far we're going, or when we're going to arrive. I'd estimate the brigade has already been travelling for a few days, but I can't be sure. All I know is that we're headed towards Tazmily, which means we'll be fighting. Not my strong suit. I need a plan, but I'm running on empty.
"What day is it?" I ask my guard.
"Wednesday," he says.
"Oh, really? Wednesdays are great. They're close to the weekend."
"This is irrelevant," the guard says. "The Onett First Brigade doesn't have weekends."
"That's a shame," I say. "What's your name, by the way?"
"Soldier forty-seven."
I blink. "I meant your actual name."
"That is confidential."
I study him hard. His neck is free of Porky's remote-control chips, but he looks too rigid, too firm. Something about it suggests naivety. Something about him suggests weakness.
"Is this all we get?" Duster complains, holding the bread, coming around from the other side of the tree. "I'm hungry."
"Be grateful," Soldier 47 says tightly. "You get to sleep. I have to guard you all."
"You don't have to," I say, and he glares at me.
"Very funny. My duty is to serve the Onett Council, and I wouldn't abandon my post, not even for a second."
I frown at his stiffness. He'll be tough to chip away at, a seemingly resilient individual, but with some sweet-talking, he could be a potential means of escape. The key will be to formulate as many plans as possible, follow several leads. This army is strong, but my mind is already beginning to work, scouting out the horses, the fire, the gaps in the trees. Something will have to be done.
I sit myself down, holding my tongue for now. At least we're all still alive, and still together. This Brigade won't kill us, not while we're still of use to them, and we can certainly take advantage of that. Their set-up is impressive, vast and well-funded, but perhaps too big to keep a track of everything that goes on. Or maybe the answer lies in providing them with a false sense of security, obeying for a while, and then suddenly striking. I'm used to being active, pragmatic, but perhaps some passiveness is in order.
"This bread is dry," Elmore complains.
"Oh, sorry," the soldier says. I can almost hear him rolling his eyes under his visor. "I'll go and get you a roast chicken instead. Or maybe some caviar?"
"How about some blankets?" I ask, seeing some men already settling down for bed.
"Enormous ones," Soldier 47 says dryly. "Huge, fluffy sheets. We keep them with our cinema and portable swimming pool."
I grit my teeth. Sarcasm, my worst enemy.
"Do you even want to be here?" Tessie asks, frowning.
"I do my duty to the Onett Council."
"Yeah, but, do you want to be here?"
"This conversation is over," he says. With that, he marches a few steps away, and sits down, looking out to the camp. I watch him, concerned. He seems lonely, I think.
"This is crazy," Duster says, sitting down by the tree. "Tazmily has no 'ope against all these men. Even wit' the secret weapon!"
"What is the secret weapon?" I ask, having never found this out.
"I don't know, m'chap." Duster looks sorrowful. "'e never said. He jus' said it was good, and we all believed him."
"I see," I say. "So, we could be up against anything?"
"Indeed!" Duster gives a great sigh. "It's a pickle, m'fellas. Either we get obliterated, or Tazmily does."
"I wouldn't worry yourselves," Soldier 47 drawls, looking over from his place. "Tazmily will be destroyed. They're the enemy."
"And who told you that?" I ask.
"The council," he says. "Newspapers. Everyone. Our ancestors fought, it's factual."
"Factual? In that case, what are you fighting over?"
"Well," he begins, confident, but he falters. "Erm, that information isn't made available to us."
"Wonderful. Simply genius of you. Going to war, and you don't even know why."
"It's for the Council." He stands, bearing his shield again. "It's for glory, for Mayor B.H Pirkle. It would do you well not to question my motives."
"What are your motives?" I ask, and his eyes flare. I see them through the slits in his helmet, surprisingly youthful.
"What are yours?" he shoots back. "Why do you care?"
"I care because something's going on," I say. "Something bigger. Something's wrong about this entire war, don't you feel it?"
"...Not really. Do you usually attempt to give people an existential crisis on first meeting?"
"It happens surprisingly often. But, you. What brought you here, do you even remember?"
"That remains no business of yours."
I grit my teeth. He's more stubborn than I thought. Maybe the key isn't in building a rapport, rather, it could be to pull at his insecurities. The idea makes me feel like Porky, and I momentarily feel sick.
"M'chap," Duster says, coming over and sitting down next to him. "Steven 'ere, he's a good fellow. He's saved my life more times than I can count, and I can just about count to ten without usin' my fingers. He's right. Innocents will die in this fight."
"So?" Soldier 47's shield clanks against his side. "We're here. We don't have a choice."
"Yes, you do," I say scathingly. "This is the First Brigade. You weren't conscripted, you signed up."
"Who says I signed myself up?"
"Oh, sorry," I say. "I forgot about the evil poltergeist that signs random people into the army. Must've slipped my mind."
"Don't be a dick," he says, his voice surprisingly weak. He looks behind him, where the soldiers around the fire have begun to sing. He looks back at us, his head low. "It was my father, okay? He put me on the list. I didn't want to let him down."
"Ah, yes, an excellent reason for mass genocide of a village. Your father's wishes."
"Look - it's." He groans. "You're tremendously cold, you know that? It's none of your business. All that matters is that we're here, all of us, and what happens will happen."
"But we can prevent it," I say.
"Not without being killed for treason. We're kept under watch, at all times, don't you see? There's no hope. We're stuck here."
I fall silent. Something about his tone is so defeated, so lonesome, that it makes me feel guilty for messing with his head. Even Duster is quiet, watching the soldier with a sort of worried expression, as if he's not sure what to make of him. He sounds like he could've been anyone, just another normal guy that the Onett Council bent to their will. It's not fair. It's not fair in the slightest.
"Ike."
I turn, surprised.
"You asked my name, earlier." Soldier 47 slowly lifts his helmet from his head, placing it down on the grass. "There you go."
"Wait - Ike?" Roy says suddenly, staring in amazement. "Ike?"
"Roy?"
"Ike!" Roy practically grapples him into a hug, and Ike lets out a yelp. Other guards look over, concerned, but Ike waves them off.
"Roy! Where have you been? Everyone thought you were dead - everyone was convinced!"
"Blame Porky for that one," Roy says, but he grins. "How's Marth? Still a nerd?"
"Ugh, yes." Ike kicks at the dirt. "He's become a maths teacher, left me to go up to the boarding school again."
"The boarding school?" Roy laughs. "Didn't we always say that would happen?"
"Yeah. But, hold on, did you say Porky?"
"Porky's evil," I say, stepping back in. "He controlled Roy with a chip, and tried to kill us all."
"But - Porky? Minch?" Ike looks genuinely confused. "He's funding the entire war!"
"I'll bet he is," I say darkly. I look back out amongst the swathes of soldiers, stripping off their armour and hanging it on trees. Only a man as rich as Porky Minch could afford all this. Only he could have this much control.
I look back to Ike, torn between happiness and fear. His armour is iron, his sword produced in a batch. He has a number, a role to fulfil.
He's a pawn, and he barely even knows it.
.
.
.
~~o00o~~
Chapter 33: Thunder
(Ness)
~~o00o~~
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.
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Onett Boarding School is weird.
Tracy goes to the public school, and she has a different experience entirely. Down there, they use chalk and slate, and their lessons are taught with hard discipline. There are no school lunches, no mixed genders, and no female teachers.
Their subjects are weird, too. They include Arithmetic, Grammar, Reasoning, all kinds of things that we don't do here. Plus, once a student reaches fourteen, that's the end of their public schooling life, which means this is Tracy's last year there. I can hardly comprehend that.
But even the public school children have it good, compared to the others. I worry about the children who don't go to school, the orphans and paupers, the ones who hide under bridges and vanish from the city. Onett's streets are filthy, filled with men who take children away in their towering slaver ships, or drag them into the workhouses. Those children have no hope, not against the big political powers, not against greedy men like Porky. They're hushed up under the carpet, beaten into silence, sold to the highest bidder. It makes me sick.
I'm lucky. I don't think that enough. I've never thought that enough.
Even if my Father's an abusive piece of shit, at least he's given me a roof to live under.
With that thought, I fall out of bed with a yelp.
"Good morning," Lucas says, laughing from the other side of the room. I grumble as I stand, wrapped up in my covers.
"Good morning."
"Nice exit." He's still cosy under his blanket. I decide that needs to change.
"Same to you," I say, grabbing him by the feet and hauling him onto the floor. He yelps, but he kicks at my leg, and I topple on top of him, snorting with laughter. He bundles me into a hug, and I oblige, grinning like an idiot and wrapping my duvet around him.
"That was mean," Lucas says, but he doesn't sound angry. Rather, he sounds almost confused.
"I am mean," I say proudly. "To you, anyway, because you're a goof."
"You're a bigger goof," he says, picking himself up. "You can't even think of any original insults."
"You're a... dork, then."
"Where have you been picking up American slang?" He laughs. "Come on. Let's go get breakfast."
We messily throw the covers back on our beds, speedily getting dressed and heading down the stairs. The others are already in the canteen, minus Red, eating bowls of oatmeal.
"Hey," I say, joining them. "Good sleep?"
"Nope," Toon Link says. "Blame Villager."
"Why?" Lucas asks.
"He couldn't bear being in the same room as Red, so I let him take my bed. It turns out that he snores like some kind of dragon."
"I can confirm," Pit says. He looks tired. "It was like sharing a dorm with a steam engine."
"You're very welcome to sleep in Red's dorm instead," Villager says. "He still likes you guys, after all."
I frown at his tone, concerned. Usually, Villager would be joking about this kind of thing, fighting back with clever comebacks, but this morning he seems more down than ever. In a way, I relate, because a load of my own worries have recently decided to surface. Since talking with Lucas about careers in History, that big question has come back, the one I can't ever answer.
What am I going to do with my life?
It's a big concept. It sounds stupidly deep, like one of those questions that's too broad to discuss. But as Lucas piled on the suggestions yesterday - painter, musician, mathematician - I began to feel that prickle of inadequacy. I'm a wildcard, a jack of all trades. I don't really have passions like other people do, which means I don't have a clear path ahead of me. Without any direction, I won't have a career, or a source of income. I wouldn't even have a hope of going to Onett University with Lucas.
It makes me nauseous. It feels like another way in which this world wasn't built for me. Once school is over, I can't just follow in Lucas's footsteps, do everything that he does. I've never worked, never even had a job. Nearly everyone my age has a job. Even Lucas has worked on the street, worked himself to the bone, just to earn enough to come to school. Maybe I'm expected to carry on Father's coal mining business, but even that feels awful. I feel selfish.
"Do you guys work in the summer?" I blurt.
Villager thinks. "I try to. Sometimes, I fish in the big Onett river and sell what I catch at the market. I do repairs for people as well, simple stuff like bolts, doors, and machinery. Next summer, I might get a job at the carpentry if I have the time."
"I have to work in a factory," Toon Link grumbles. "Father sends me out. Gotta make some money, they say. Gotta pay them back for - well, erm..." He trails off, exchanging an odd look with Pit.
"I considered factory work," Lucas says. "But the pay was too low. Trading and selling worked better. Father earns next to nothing as a coal miner."
"Sorry," I say, knowing it's my own father who sets the wages.
"Don't be. It's not your fault."
"Dark Pit and I used to work," Pit says, staring at his plate. "We worked for this rich woman called Palutena, doing odd jobs and stuff. We saved her life, once."
"Saved her life?" Toon Link says, incredulous. "How?"
"Some crone called Medusa wanted her money. It's a long story."
A long story. More than I can say for myself. Everyone works, everyone does something to contribute. Hell, I could've even got a job at the sawmill, anything to get Lucas above the poverty line.
"What lesson have we got first?" Lucas asks me, dragging me out of my thoughts.
"Sport, I think."
"Ew."
"Maybe you should excuse, 'cause you're injured," I suggest, but Lucas shakes his head.
"I'll be fine."
"If you're sure…"
"Well, I'd like to skip," Villager says, groaning. "As if I need to see Red and Diddy Kong at the same time."
"I'll protect you!" Toon Link declares. "Any trouble, and Toon Link will make it double."
"...That fills me with very little confidence."
"Yes, let's avoid trouble," Pit says, narrowing his eyes. "But, don't worry about that lot, okay? You're awesome, Villager. They don't know what they're missing."
Villager falls silent for a moment, looking a little surprised. Then, he smiles. "Thanks, Pit."
The clocktower rings, and we head to the changing rooms. I push out all thoughts of my future for now, because Sport is possibly the most gruelling lesson of the week. Especially when it's rugby, which requires the physicality that I severely lack. I wish we could skip and go to Art, but it seems that Lucas is determined to prove that his arms still function.
"Oh, hey," Diddy Kong sneers, as soon as we arrive. "Watch out, everyone! The fags are here!"
I ignore him, starting to get changed. The weather outside is wet, thick with rain, and altogether promising of misery. It had better clear up for the start of the Wilderness Survival week, or my chances of sleeping tonight are limited.
"Careful!" Diddy Kong dramatically steps away from us. "They might molest you if you get too close!"
"Don't listen," Lucas mutters, but he doesn't need to say. I'm cool as a cucumber, being the bigger person or whatever. Diddy Kong is somehow nowhere near as menacing as Meta Knight was. He feels like a cheap knock-off if anything.
"Hey!" he squawks. "Villager's staring at my dick! Guys! He's sexually harassing me!"
"Shut up," Toon Link snarls, finally snapping. "He'd need a microscope to see that tiny thing. Don't kid yourself."
"Oh, but of course!" Diddy Kong says. "You're jealous, right? You want him for yourself, don't you?"
Toon Link glares. "I don't want him for myself. Unlike you, I have some respect for him."
"Sure," Diddy Kong says, cackling. "Is that why you bend over for him? Do you think he pretends you're a girl when he fucks you senseless?"
"Shut up," Toon Link says, looking murderous. "I don't - he doesn't. Leave us the hell alone."
"I don't think so, you faggot." Diddy Kong hits a fist into his hand. "It's fucking unnatural, that's what this is. You and your fuckbuddy Villager are vile. You make me sick, you-"
WHAM.
"Woah…"
"Holy..."
"Oh my God..."
I shove past Lucas, who gasps. It's not Toon Link who delivered the blow - it's Pit.
"Don't you dare - don't you dare say that-" Pit trembles, his breathing heavy. Diddy Kong is on the ground, knocked down by the punch. He looks up, utterly stunned.
"What's the hold-up?" Wii Fit Trainer asks, coming in. He freezes in shock. "Boys! The boxing module isn't until next term!"
"Pit attacked me!" Diddy Kong wails, suddenly putting a hand to his eye.
"Pit!" Wii Fit Trainer exclaims. "Attacking other students is not allowed, not without gaining possession of the ball. Red Card! Come with me to the headmaster."
"Of course," Pit says, still shaking. "See you later, guys."
"See - see you later," Villager says faintly.
He's taken away.
We look around at each other with no idea what to say. Lucas's shirt is still hanging halfway off his head.
"What the hell just happened?" Toon Link eventually demands.
"He must really like us," Villager says, not meeting anyone's eyes.
I can't help but think about how calm Pit was. And how much Diddy Kong deserved that punch. I finish getting changed in silence, following Lucas out onto the field, where the rain is pouring in droves. In just two weeks, Pit's gotten close enough to us to punch someone in our defence. It's kind of crazy, but it makes me laugh.
"I hope he doesn't get in too much trouble," Lucas mumbles.
"He'll be alright," Toon Link says, grinning again. "We've been in fights before, haven't we, Ness?"
"Yeah," I say sheepishly.
Lucas lightly prods me. "And it's not gonna happen again, is it?"
"No…"
There's laughter, but it's quickly dispelled as Red walks past, muttering to himself.
Wii Fit trainer eventually comes back, a light spring in his step. "Alright, my apologies for the delay, but everyone on their feet! We've got some quality rugby work to get in today, and you need to be warmed up for it. So, everyone in pairs."
I grab Lucas at once, and Toon Link takes Villager. To my dismay, Red goes with Link.
"Alright, excellent." Wii Fit Trainer puts his hands together. "Time to warm up! Laps around the field, follow me!"
"Professor?" Toon Link says, his hand raised.
"Yes?"
"Don't know if you've noticed, but it's raining. A lot."
"This is no matter!" Wii Fit Trainer beams. "A bit of rain builds character. Come on!"
With muted groans, we start to run, squelching in the mud that's hastily forming underfoot. I'm already soaked through and shivering, my shirt clinging to my chest like tin foil to roast chicken. It's miserable, and I'm way too slow at running, so slow that everyone's ahead of me within minutes.
"Keep up," Lucas says, grinning, but I pause, having to catch my breath. He frowns. "You good?"
"Yeah," I croak. "Just fat and hopelessly out of shape."
"Ness, you're below average weight. You're just fine how you are."
"Can't run, though-"
"Come on, don't make me carry you."
"Sounds - good-"
"Oh, no." He steps back. "I'm definitely not carrying you while running. Not with my poor arms."
"Oh, now they're a problem?"
"How unfortunate," Lucas says, but he grins. His good mood today is reassuring, at least. I almost want to tackle him into the mud, but perhaps that would be a little mean.
"Come on," I say, hauling myself back up. "Let's keep going."
"That's the spirit."
But hardly another minute later, I'm out of breath again, wheezing like Porky after a pack of cigarettes. My lungs feel heavy, burning, and suddenly, I slip, and I'm toppling into the mud.
There's a splat as I slam down on the ground. It hurts. Cursed mud. Cursed Lucas, laughing his head off. Cursed shorts, now hopelessly messy. Cursed everything.
"Need a hand?" Lucas asks, through tears of mirth.
"Please-"
I take his hand, but my mean streak emerges first. I tug at him, and he yelps, sliding and toppling into the grass, dirt splattering all over his face.
"Whoops," I say, grinning.
"That was uncalled for!" He spits out a clod of earth, giving me a shove. "I thought we were best friends!"
"We were, then you started laughing at me!"
"Your fault for being a goof!"
"I'm not a goof!" I grab a handful of mud, smearing it on his face. He gasps, and suddenly, he's on me, grappling, and I'm grinning, getting mud in his hair, on his cheeks, behind his ears. Rain drives down, Wii Fit Trainer calls instructions, but I don't care, because Lucas needs to be as messy as possible. He rolls over, suddenly pinning me under him, and then it's my turn to be attacked, laughing, soaked from head to toe.
"Take this! And this! I'm gonna get you, you bully!"
"Not if I have anything to say about it, you goblin!"
He shoves me, falling to my side, laughing like a fool. I grin, hugging him, because I love him really. Even though we're supposed to be running, even though we're supposed to be doing so much more right now, we're just lying in the mud together, beaten.
And that's when it hits me.
Maybe that's okay.
He wipes the mud from his eyes, beaming, looking across at me. We're messy and stupid, and often stuck in the dirt, but we're best friends. With him around, it's hard not to believe in fate, because he's kind of absolutely perfect. He glows, his cheeks pinkening when I don't avert my gaze. He's right there, right there in front of me.
"Ness," he murmurs, and for a moment, I think he's going to kiss me. I close my eyes, my heart leaping, but then I feel his weight lifting from my shoulder. He stands, and I follow, a little disappointed, but still giddy. Wii Fit Trainer has nearly reached us, nearly lapped us, and he looks angry.
"That thing you need to tell me," Lucas says softly, turning to me. "Tell me after this is over, okay? After Wario has been defeated."
I blink, staring at him in disbelief.
"Is that okay with you?" he asks, a tiny smile on his face.
"O-Of course," I say, stammering like a lunatic. He knows. He so totally knows. But Wii Fit Trainer appears in front of my face, and all of a sudden, the moment is broken. The rain drives heavily again, and the wind starts to howl, tearing at my hair.
"What on earth are you doing?" Wii Fit Trainer demands, his arms folded. "You're covered in mud!"
"Slipped," I say, sounding stupid.
"I see." He looks disapproving. "Well, the warm up's over now, so if you get a stitch, don't blame me."
We follow him over to the rest of the class, but Lucas gives me a shifty grin, and I return it. I feel good, really good, better than I have in ages, even though I'm caked in dirt, even though the rain runs like a waterfall down my neck. Not many people can say they have someone this close to them, someone who cares about them so unconditionally. Someone who accepts their flaws.
"Right then," Wii Fit Trainer says, taking the front. I can just about make him out through the torrents. "We're going to be attempting passing today-"
"Bet homo boy is disappointed it's not tackling," Diddy Kong sniggers, back to his cocky self again.
"-You'll need to get into pairs, and get out one of the rugby balls, and-"
"Can't we go inside? Popo interrupts. "It's wet."
"Yeah," Link says, shivering. "Please, let's do that."
"No." Wii Fit Trainer folds his muscular arms. "Real sportsmen are in the rain for most of their sporting careers."
"Professor," Toon Link says, sticking up his hand. "We're not real sportsmen."
"As may be, but you need to keep active. Healthy body, healthy mind."
"I disagree. I'd rather not die of hypothermia."
"You can disagree all you like, and I can go and report you to the Headmaster," Wii Fit Trainer says, irritated now. "We will be staying out here, and we will do these drills, and-"
Ka-Boom!
Someone screams, everyone looking around for the source of the noise. The remains of the equipment shed burst into flames.
"Lightning!" Lucas squeaks, but not many people hear him over the resulting clamour. A heavy rumble of thunder comes next, and sheets of rain lash violently at our shivering bodies.
"Please, it's not safe," Mega Man begs. "We have to go inside, this is a thunderstorm!"
"Nonsense," Wii Fit Trainer says. "It's perfectly fine."
Crash!
A tree topples, meeting its untimely fate.
"According to my calculations, it is not fine," Red states. "I declare mutiny!"
"And I declare that it's time to begin!" Wii Fit Trainer launches a rugby ball with such force that it winds Red completely. "Pairs, one ball each, get out onto the field!"
We have no choice but to obey. Lucas shivers, tilting his head to look at the darkened sky, a flash of lightning illuminating his dripping jawline. I follow him to the rugby balls, feeling like some kind of swamp monster with all this mud still clinging to my body.
"I hate storms," Lucas whimpers, as he pulls a ball out of the bag. I wrap him in a hug; he's soaked through.
"If anything, you'll be fine," I say. "Lightning usually strikes tall things, after all."
"How dare you!" Lucas chucks the ball at my face. "Come on, let's find the others."
We find Villager and Toon Link tossing the rugby ball between them, while simultaneously looking like human fountains. Villager's messy hair is flat and straggly against his forward, shining with rainwater. Toon Link looks like he's about to drown.
"Hey," Villager says, shouting over the wind. "This is stupid."
"He's quite annoyed," Toon Link says, laughing.
"I'll have to go in the same room as Red to get a change of clothes," Villager says, and his expression darkens. "It'll be horrendous."
"It's fine, I'll get them for you," I say.
"Aw, really? I'd appreciate that."
"It's no problem." I toss the rugby ball towards Lucas, who swoops for it and misses. Another flash of lightning breaks the momentary silence, and Villager yelps as another tree topples to the ground.
"It's dangerous out here!" he exclaims. "Link is like, seven foot, he could get killed-"
"Relax, Villager," Toon Link soothes, coming over and hugging him. "It'll all be alright."
"You reckon?" Villager mumbles.
"Yeah, 'course. I promise."
But the rain continues to rattle down, soaking us through for what feels like hours. Wii Fit Trainer only blows his whistle after about a hundred passing drills, and we have to count ourselves lucky to be alive as we file into the changing rooms, our fingertips blue, our teeth recurrently chattering. Lucas immediately huddles up to me, and even Diddy Kong doesn't comment, practically frozen into ice.
It takes a long time for us to thaw out.
.
.
.
.
.
By the time the next lesson begins, thunder is reverberating around the whole school. The corridors have darkened considerably, and nobody even smiles as we pass them. There's no sign of Pit when we enter Maths, sitting down in silence. He's probably been put in Student Isolation for the incident.
"Good morning," Marth says, taking the front. "Sport first? You're all looking a bit damp."
There are muted nods.
"Anyway," Marth continues briskly. "Ness, Lucas, I'm separating you for this lesson. You were too disruptive last time, so Lucas, take a seat next to Red, and Ness, please go and sit next to Bayonetta there."
"But-"
"No buts." Marth pulls out a length of chalk. "It's for your benefit. Anyway, today's work, circle theorems..."
Grumbling, I drag myself over to where Bayonetta is sitting. I've still not forgiven Marth for faking me out with the Maths competition, making me leave Lucas, which opened him up to being attacked. Bayonetta smiles, and I smile back, but my thoughts are brooding again, drifting dangerously close to my doomed future...
"Ness!" Bayonetta says melodramatically. "It's such a shame that you and your true love were split!"
"Shush!" I exclaim, checking behind us for any keen ears. "Don't say that."
"Oh, sorry, is that not a good thing to say?" She looks genuinely confused.
"No!"
"I do apologise. But have you asked him out, yet?"
I blush in spite of myself. "Bayonetta, please don't-"
"You'd better do it quickly, or... someone else might take him!" She gives a sumptuous wink. "I have a strong eye for romance, you know."
"Great." I cover my face. "Please, yes, do keep talking."
"Alright, I will! Well, Nana has obviously got the hots for him, it's what everyone is saying, but Isabelle told me about you and Lucas, and-"
"She what?" My eyes dart up, my heart suddenly pounding. "Did she tell anyone else? Did you tell anyone else!?"
"Not a soul!" She places a hand on her heart. "I swear on my heroin addiction. No idea about her, though."
"No idea!?" I exclaim, feeling my breaths coming faster and faster. It's illegal - if anyone knew, anyone told the police - that'd be it. That'd be it! I can hardly see straight. If Lucas heard, if someone told him...
"Though, I have to know," Bayonetta continues obliviously. "That trick with the monster at my party, how did you pull it off?"
"Magic," I say, scrambling for an excuse. My mind is still racing, rushing through all the possibilities. If Father found out, he'd disown me. If Lucas knew, he'd hate me. Nobody would love me ever again.
"Magic?" Bayonetta frowns. "Weird. Anyway, I found something inside the monster when I was cleaning it up. Is it yours?"
"What?" I take the object that she's holding out, my hands shaking. It's like a little square of plastic, covered in tiny sprawling lines of metal. "No, it's not mine."
"Oh, great! I'll keep it as an ornament, then-"
"I - okay-"
"Ness," Marth interrupts, sighing. "What did I just say?"
My stomach sinks. "I don't know, Professor."
"Ness, please." He closes his frustrated eyes. "Just try to focus. It's not that hard."
"Sorry," I say, mumbling, a horrible lump forming in my throat. Even by doing nothing, I upset people. If Isabelle's told anyone else, they'll finally have an excuse to get rid of me. Diddy Kong was right, it's disgusting and vile.
It's evil. It's criminal.
Oh no. Buttercup. Not now.
"And so, the seven theorems are as follows," Marth says, drawing out a circle on the blackboard. I try to focus on him, but my mind is hurtling at a million miles per second. I have no future. There is no universe where I can be happy. I slump onto the desk, feeling like I'm about to cry.
"You'll need to know the exact wordings for the exam," Marth says. "They come up in written response questions, and the mark scheme is often very specific."
There's no point. I'll never remember it. I'm going to fail, just like I've failed at everything else.
"I'd advise taking notes," Marth says, pointedly looking at Lucas, whose book is closed and expression vacant. "You'll need them for revision and memorisation practise..."
You'll be failing your entire life. Sliding down a steep, slippery slope to disappointment.
No. No. I need to focus on Marth. Not eternal doom.
"The first theorem," Marth says, drawing a square inside a triangle. "Opposite angles in a cyclic quadrilateral will always sum to 180 degrees..."
You'll disappoint your Father, you'll disappoint Lucas, you'll disappoint your Mother, you'll disappoint Tracy...
No. No, I won't, I can't.
You're a failure. A loner. You have no passions, no goals, no future.
I can't do this. I can't do this.
"And then, the next theorem is that-"
Nothing. You're nothing.
I'm nothing.
"The circle-"
Nobody will remember me.
"90 degrees-"
Die.
"And-"
Die.
"Then-"
DIE!
Crash.
Screams fill the room as we're plunged into darkness. The wind howls, thunder roaring louder, lightning tearing apart the sky. I leap up, yelling for Lucas, looking wildly around.
"Everyone, be calm!" Marth calls, but nobody hears him. The window is shattered, glass shards scattering the floor. Cold is rushing in, the gas lamps are out, and chaos reigns.
"Ness!" Lucas cries, emerging, and I run to him, terrified.
"Lucas!"
"What's happening?" Red demands, but I shake my head. It's my fault. It's all my fault.
"Ness?"
"Everybody!" Marth shouts. "Settle down! The storm broke the window, it's fine!"
But it's not fine - this room is evil, horrible, infested with darkness. Lightning strikes again, blinding me for a split second. Something's coming. Death is on its way.
"Everyone out," Lucas says, tensing. He's felt it too. "Everyone out!"
"But-"
"OUT!" Lucas bellows, and there's a mass of pushing towards the door. I grab Lucas's hand, sprinting, just as there's a colossal boom and another window bursts. Marth dives from the explosion of glass, rolling out the way with a cry, storming after us into the corridor. Thunder rages, winds tearing at our clothes, furniture toppling with almighty bangs. Marth slams the door shut behind him, and he yells as a gas lamp shatters on the floor.
It's pandemonium. Marth takes the lead, hurtling down the corridor. I follow, Lucas by my side, both of us panting for breath. Marth takes a left, then a right, before he slams through a door, coming out into a windowless classroom. We burst in, stumbling, the storm roaring like a beast behind us. Toon Link follows, white as a sheet. Red shakes, out of his mind with fear. Even Bayonetta is quivering, murmuring something, hand over her face.
"Jesus," Marth says, slowing down, leaning against a desk. "Jesus."
I hold Lucas close, feeling my eyes brimming with tears. He clutches back, shuddering, tiny noises coming from his throat. I'm lost for words. Completely lost for words.
"Circle - theorems," Marth says, gasping for air as he pulls his chalk from his pocket. "Cyclic - quadrilateral-"
"Professor," Red starts, but Marth waves him off, stumbling to his feet.
"Exams - coming," he says, swaying. "We must continue - sit down - please, just sit down..."
Nobody knows much better than to obey. My thoughts are rushing, but they're slowing now, Buttercup silenced by the chaos of events. This room feels safer, less maleficent, but maybe that's because I'm nearer to Lucas. Either way, it feels like we've had a very narrow escape. Something happened - something that I don't quite understand. Something awful.
I huddle up to Lucas as the lesson resumes, Marth tripping over his words, the thunder rolling faintly in the distance. For now, I'll take notes on the circle theorems. As for understanding, that can come later.
.
.
.
.
.
"Lunch," Lucas says as we leave. "Thank God."
"That's my line," I say, pouting.
"Gatekeeping lines is uncool."
"Screw you."
"As you wish," Lucas says, playfully shoving me. I blush, wondering if he knows the implications of what he said.
"What do you think happened?" I ask, changing the subject. "It was like the storm was attacking us. You felt it."
"I didn't feel the storm." Lucas sounds worried. "I felt you. It was like you were about to erupt."
My mouth falls open.
"I don't know what happened," he continues. "I got the sense that you weren't feeling good, and then suddenly it was crazy, and the windows were exploding. It was a... psychic thing, I guess."
"A psychic thing," I say, hoarse. I think of Buttercup, wondering if that has something to do with it. The thunder rolls again in the distance, still angry, but nowhere near as dangerous.
"Maybe we need to be more careful with our powers," Lucas says. He pushes into the canteen, joining the back of the queue. "Just in case."
"That sounds like effort."
"Effort that we need to put in, unless we want to perish."
"But this storm is huge! It's been grumbling and bumbling all morning."
Lucas laughs. "Grumbling and bumbling? What kind of a description is that?"
"A great one." I pout, delivering a slow-motion punch to his arm. "Any more of this slander, and I'm stealing your toes."
"You what?" He pulls a face. "What kind of a threat is that?"
"One I'm willing to carry out!"
"And what would you do with my toes once they're stolen?"
"Cook them and eat them for dinner, of course."
He stares at me for a second, before shaking his head. "You're strange."
"You're small."
He sighs. "Must all your comebacks pertain to height?"
"Yes, munchkin."
"You will be the death of me."
I proudly puff out my chest. "Gnome."
"Toe-fetishist."
"Goblin."
"Hey!" His slightly pointy ears turn red. "I am not a goblin!"
The server clears his throat. "You two, you're at the front of the queue... are you gonna get your food or not?"
Embarrassed, we take our lunch of cheese and pickle sandwiches, silently making our way over to the others. But I grin when I see the smile on the goof's face, because I put that smile there. I quite like doing that. Or perhaps he's smiling at Toon Link's strange outfit, which appears to be entirely green.
"Going for the leprechaun look?" I ask, sitting down.
"Only clothes I had left after the storm," Toon Link says. "I've got a better outfit for the play, though. Just you wait and see."
"He's got a plan," Villager mutters darkly. "He's roped me in."
"No spoilers!" Toon Link gives a hearty wink, before spitting out a mouthful of sandwich. "Eurgh, what is this?"
"Pickle," Lucas says.
"Pickle is awful. Pickle can go and rot in a preserved grave."
Lucas laughs, covering his mouth with his hand in a remarkably cute way. He catches me staring, and rolls his eyes, toe-poking me under the table.
"Any sign of Pit?" Villager asks, and I notice the empty seat.
"I thought he was in Student Isolation," I say. I've been in Student Isolation a couple of times, mostly thanks to Bowser. And the one time I nearly fell out of a window, but that's a different story.
"I hope he's alright..." Villager frowns. "Do they feed you in there?"
"They feed you gruel," Toon Link says cheerfully. He's well acquainted with the Student Isolation room.
I mime throwing up. "I'd rather die."
"Gruel's not that bad," Lucas says, giving me a puzzled look.
My eyes widen, and I look away, saying a quick prayer that gruel isn't his favourite food. Much as I'm head-over-heels for him, having to endure several meals of thin, watery porridge would be miserable. I always thought he was a man of culture, a fan of omelettes and scrambled eggs, but no. My Lucas is officially a peasant.
"Good day," someone says. I look up.
It's Red.
"Hello," Villager says warily.
"Greetings. I am here to say a... thing."
"What's the thing?" Villager asks, when Red doesn't elaborate. Red clears his throat, looking momentarily at the ground.
"I would like to… apologise." It sounds like a difficult word for him to say.
"Oh?" Villager raises an eyebrow.
"Yes." Red gives a stiff nod. "I was wrong. Wrong about... you. Selfish. That's the word. I was... selfish."
"Well, erm." Villager doesn't look sure what to say. "I'm glad you've come around, mate. That's really great."
But suddenly, there's a crash of thunder, and Red's body jerks, a look of agony cutting into his face. He doubles over, clutching the table, his eyes bloodshot and horrified.
"Help me-"
"Red?" Villager quickly stands. "Red, what's happening? Are you okay?"
He rapidly shakes his head, his knuckles white, mouth ajar. His body shakes, and Villager rushes to support it.
"Red, what's going on?"
"I - I-"
Crash!
Lightning fills the hall, and we all jump. Suddenly, Red's expression flashes back to normal, and he stands up straight, adjusting his hat.
"My apologies," he says. "Everything's alright, do not worry. I merely recalled some homework that I have not completed. I must go now - I will see you all later."
"Wait - but, Red-"
"Goodbye!" He speeds off in the direction of the library. Villager makes to follow, but Toon Link stops him, taking a handful of his shirt.
"Let him do his thing. He probably needs time."
"What? Are you blind?" Villager slaps his hand away. "Something's wrong - he's not okay!"
"Yeah, uh, what even was that?" I ask, worried.
"I don't know! That's why I need to follow - to find out -"
"He needs space," Toon Link measures, but Villager pushes past him, looking manic.
"Screw that! If he's in danger, I'm going to find him!"
But when we arrive in History, Villager re-joins us looking put out and defeated. Apparently, Red was nowhere to be seen, not in the library, the games room, or even the corridor. It makes me worry, but Red's been known to isolate himself before. He'll be fine in the end.
"This is a miracle!" Ryu announces as we enter. "Ness and Lucas, here on time!"
"Erm, yes," I say awkwardly.
"For the first time this term!"
"Well, nothing's tried to kill us today," Lucas says, giving a wry smile. "No distractions."
"Let's hope it stays that way." Ryu puts his hands together. "Ah, do take a seat."
We obey, sitting at the back of the room, while Toon Link and Villager take their seats nearer the front, having made up after their earlier spat. The storm continues to rattle and rage outside, the sky dark and ominous over the horizon. I still can't shake the feeling that something is, once again, very wrong.
"Good afternoon, students," Ryu says, clearing his throat. "Today, in our Ancient History topic, we're going to be investigating the evidence as to whether Magic exists or not."
I raise an eyebrow, and Ryu casts a casual glance at me and Lucas.
"So, I've got some sources," he says, pulling out a stack of books from his cabinet. "Some old texts, to start with. The Mystery of Magic by Wiz. Ard."
Ryu hands the books around, and I look at my copy with shock. Magic is supposed to be illegal - but then again, looking around the room, nobody appears to be calling the police.
"I've also found some colourful stones that may or may not be magical," Ryu says, withdrawing some pebbles. "I've also got this magic wand." He takes out a stick. There are instantly complaints.
'Obviously magic isn't real-'
'That's clearly just a stick-'
"Ahem!" Ryu folds his arms. "Settle down. Please can somebody read out the first passage from Chapter One of The Mystery Of Magic? Just to get a feel for the kind of themes we'll be dealing with?"
Nana volunteers. "It starts with… Potions. Uh, okay. Replication potion - drink this potion to... take the form of someone else." She looks up. "Weird. Potion of Love - give it to your crush, and they'll fall - fall in love? What? What is this?"
"Make of that what you will," Ryu says ominously. "Have a look through the rest of the book too, piece together any evidence you can. Good luck."
Most students snort with laughter, ready for an easy lesson, but I throw my hand in the air, because what is going on?
"Ah, Ness." Ryu comes over. "Everything okay?"
"No - what is all this?"
"History." He shrugs. "It's on the curriculum."
"Where did you get so many copies of that book?" Lucas asks.
Ryu smiles genially. "From my good friend Wiz. Ard, of course. He sent them to me."
"Wiz. Ard.?" I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. "That's his actual name?"
"Well, it's Wizelda Ardridge, but he's quite a fan of puns, so…"
I can't tell if he's being serious. "Why did he send them?"
"He wanted me to test how non-magic-person-proof they are," Ryu says. "Come to think of it, we really need a better name than 'non-magic-person.'"
"What about those colourful stones?" I ask. "Are they - you know - the magic stones?"
"Hah - no. The magic stones have been lost to magical legend for millennia. They're some pebbles that Professor Shulk painted... for some reason."
"And the potions?" Lucas says. "A cover-up for the real magic, right?"
"Possibly." Ryu smiles again. "Nothing is ever certain with these things. But I assure you, not everything you see and hear is suspicious. Shame though, that the one lesson you're on time, it's the one where you know all of the content already."
"Yeah," I say, awkwardly nodding.
"Well, I'll leave you to get on."
"Thank you, Professor," Lucas and I say in unison, and Ryu disappears off to tend to the class.
"That was weird," I say. "Do you think something's happened with him?"
"Possibly," Lucas mumbles, uncertain. "He's always weird, though."
"I can't believe he and Father were ever friends."
Lucas shivers. "Your Father seems like the complete opposite of Ryu."
"I wonder what happened between them?" I ask, for what must be the millionth time.
"They probably had an argument," Lucas reasons. "Your Father does like to antagonise himself."
"Yeah." I gulp. "He pays his workers so little, too. I should get a proper job to help you all out. To pay you back."
"Ness, you really don't have to-"
"I should, though. Instead of sitting around. Or, I could sell some of my stuff with you. I've got loads of old tat-"
"Ness..." Lucas slowly wraps an arm around himself, looking wholly uncomfortable. "Don't. You shouldn't have to do anything like that for me. Don't get mixed up in the street life."
I check in front of us, dropping my voice to a whisper.
"I could handle it, though."
"Ness, please. Don't even consider it. I mean that."
"But, but you need money..."
"Ness-"
"It's really no trouble, I can quite easily just-"
"Ness-"
"I'm strong, I can fight anyone off-"
"Ness-"
"And-"
"Ness! No!" he shouts, shoving me hard. "I told you to stop!"
I realise too late that I've pushed his boundaries too far.
He continues. "It's ruthless, ruthless on the streets! There's no mercy, it's just dog eat dog out there, everyone out for themselves. You'd be hurt, tortured, abused - you might even get killed, as the son of someone like your Father. You know what I've dealt with out there, and if you think for even a second that I'm going to sit back and let the same happen to you, then you're - you're crazy!"
I'm lost for words. I try to stammer an apology, but nothing comes out. I can only stare like a gormless fish.
"So much has happened to me out there." He shoves at me again, his voice choking up. "There are some things I haven't even told you yet. I have so many horrible memories, and you know what I fucking do with them? I push them down, Ness, I shove them away until they burn, until they turn into certainty. Certainty that I will never, never, let this happen to the people I love."
"I'm sorry," I mumble, a horrible lump forming in my throat.
His breathing is heavy. "Don't you dare put yourself on the line for me. I don't think I could live with myself if you did."
"I won't."
"Good."
We don't speak for the rest of the lesson.
.
.
.
.
.
"So, what, old Ryu was trialling the book on our class?"
Toon Link seems to be in a bad mood as we make our way to our next subject, rubbing his hands together with annoyance. Lucas and I remain distanced, the ice between us slowly thickening.
"Apparently," I say. "Everyone decided magic was fake, so I guess it worked."
"And yet, there were two psychics in their midst." Toon Link grins. "Shame on them for being so unobservant."
"The book is pretty ridiculous though," Villager says. "Why would anyone believe a thing like that?"
"The real information is at the back," I explain. "Mr Wiz. Ard. invented all the potions and stuff to deter any non-magical-people."
"Smart."
"Sad, though," Toon Link notes.
"Yeah."
Lucas and I head into Art, Lucas still resoundingly silent, but Shulk greets us cheerily.
"Alright? Straight on with it today - by the way, I'm supposed to bring you lot directly to the theatre after the lesson. Unless you have a role, in which case you're supposed to go thirty minutes early… do you boys have a role?"
"No," Lucas says.
"Ah, shame, your paintings would have made fine backgrounds. Nevertheless, I'll let you get on with the lesson. Good luck!"
He hurries off, and as is routine, we head over to the table of newspaper headlines. For a fleeting moment, I hope for good news, but…
Conscription Mandate Reduced to 17+
I almost scream. That's us. That's actually us.
"This is so messed up," Lucas murmurs, reading the article. I look over his shoulder, frantically scanning the page.
In a compromise with the more persistent members of the Onett Council, B.H Pirkle has agreed to lower the conscription mandate to men aged seventeen and over. However, this is not to apply to current students of Onett Boarding School, as these private school students are destined to be crucial members of Onetian society in future. This has been protested against by The Sharks, who claim this is 'not fair.' However, it is actually not fair on the Onett Boarding School Students, as they do not get to fight for our glorious city!
"This is awful." I fold the newspaper shut, my hands shaking. "It's not right."
"Inequality at its finest," Lucas says, grimacing.
"We have to do something,"
"We can't. People that protest get impaled on poles. I've seen it firsthand."
"What about The Sharks?" I say, desperately swimming for a solution.
"Just as bad. They use terror as their weapon."
"But - but this isn't okay! There are people - innocent people - we have to tell someone! Or do something, or - or anything-"
Lucas's lip quivers. "Ness, we're powerless."
"But there are people - people suffering -"
"I know."
Suddenly, all my problems seem so insignificant, nothing compared to innocents being sent to war, innocents suffering in the streets. The disease is still rampant, war is brewing, and the poverty is worse than ever.
"I'm sorry about earlier, in History," I blurt.
"It's fine," Lucas murmurs.
"I just, I really want to help you, and I don't want you to suffer alone, and-"
"Ness, it's alright. I get it."
"And I don't know how you even get through all of that, but you must be incredibly brave, and so incredibly strong-"
"Ness."
"Sorry," I say, withering. "I'll shut up now."
Almost nervously, Lucas wraps an arm around me. "It's alright, Ness. C'mon. Let's go paint."
"Yeah - let's do that."
We collect canvases and palettes, and I study my work in progress, an arrow embedded in a tree. It's sort of plain, rather uninspiring, although Lucas complimented it last lesson, so maybe it isn't too bad. I get to work, still worried, still tense, and it continues that way for the rest of the class, working in tepid silence, adding the tiny details to my piece. Lucas works fast, making up for lost time from his damaged arms, and we end up finishing almost simultaneously.
"Alright everyone," Shulk says, clearing his throat. "Time to bring you to the theatre. Everyone pack up!"
"What do you think's gonna happen in this play?" I ask Lucas, putting my painting back on the shelf.
"Ah, probably some… performing? And Toon Link's got that plan, too…"
I bite my lip. "I wonder what that could entail."
"Could be anything," Lucas says. "It'll be fun, though."
"Yeah." I grin. "That's for sure."
A nasty crash of thunder sounds outside, the storm still raging on. It feels foreboding, as if something's coming, perhaps something to do with Wario in his underground lair, or the Future Humans in the forest. But maybe better things are coming, things to do with Lucas, things to do with romance and warmth. He catches me smiling as we leave the classroom, and I take his hand, suddenly giddy.
A/N
Not much to say in these author's notes, only that Ness is right.
Big things are coming.
Thank you for reading!
~ ReadyforTeddy
