people tell me slow my roll
i'm screaming out fuck that
i'ma do just what i want
lookin' ahead no turnin' back

- Kid Cudi
"Pursuit of Happiness"

Young Lions

((n+3)/3)

The %#$! Made Me Do it

It was still morning. Still early. Roy slipped quietly out of bed and into the shower. Marth slept on, face buried in the pillow, hair over his eyes, expression peaceful. A rare thing.

Roy showered quickly. Didn't stop to think about the significance of the moment. If he thought too hard about it, something would go wrong. He was sure of that.

He toweled off while standing on the cold clean tiles of the hotel bathroom. He pulled on his boxers and pants. Tossed his shirt and hoodie back on. Stepped out and found his shoes.

Before he left, he drew up the sheet over Marth's bare shoulder.

Marth stirred at the touch.

"I'm going for a run," Roy whispered. "I'll be back in an hour. If not, I'll call you. Okay?"

"Don't forget." Marth sounded tired.

Roy kissed his forehead. "Rest a little bit."

As he turned for the door, Roy startled at the sight of an ugly hairless cat sleeping at the foot of the bed. He hadn't noticed it before. How long had it been there?

It lifted its head, eyes narrowed at him.

"Fucking shit..." Roy murmured. "He brought you here?"

'I could say the same of you.'

The words sounded in Roy's head, in a voice deeper than one would have expected. Roy had never gotten along with the thing.

"You freaky telepathic mutant. Stop reading my mind."

'If I were to actually read your mind, it would only lower my intelligence.'

"Yeah, you shit in a box and lick your own ass. Sounds smart to me."

'All I see in your head is static. Static and pornography. You sick, depraved human.'

"I swear, if you don't stop with that shit..."

"Roy...?"

He turned around.

Marth opened his eyes for a second, then closed them again. He sank deeper into the pillow.

"Stop talking to the cat, Roy... He's a cat. He doesn't understand you. We've been over this."

"Uh, sure, yeah." Roy glared at the animal. "He doesn't understand a damn thing."

Mewtwo let out a soft meow and moved to snuggle next to Marth. But his eyes stayed locked on Roy.

'I'll be watching you.'

Roy gave him the finger on the way out.

The glass elevator offered a view of the city, still half asleep, its gaudy monuments muted in the early light.

Roy let himself out the back entrance of the hotel. Crowds had already gathered around the block.

Tugging the black hood over his head, Roy started running from the parking lot, past the security and medical tents, the media vans, the crew trailers. Waluigi's garbage truck was still parked there.

Smash town rolled in like a circus once a year to different venues. It changed the landscape wherever it landed.

He ran through downtown. Saw obvious Smash fans making their way past him toward the arena. He kept his head down. Kept running. Cold air burned his lungs. But it was tolerable.

Times like these, he missed Mac and Lucina, who would have come with him, even though they could both probably outrun him. But there was no denying that he was in better shape than a year ago.

The hotels and banks eventually fell away to auto shops, vacant lots, liquor stores. Now this was scenery he was used to.

Every city had a ghetto. Didn't matter what the people up top said.

But every stray cat from one alley needed to watch its step when setting foot in another.

Past a worn out playground, beside a broken chain link fence, people had thrown their garbage by the "no dumping" sign.

Roy kept going. Found a telephone pole wrapped with deflated balloons and dried up flowers. A street memorial, encircled with candles. Someone had left a teddy bear, toys. Among them was a wooden sword.

Roy stopped and picked up the sword. Remembered a gift he had received from his father, the last time they had met. His father's face had been kind, but it had been the face of a stranger. His mother had urged him forward to take the gift, the toy wooden sword, to accept the kiss on the forehead. Roy remembered the sad smile, the hand on top of his head, the gentle rustling of his hair.

"You're growing up fast, young man."

There was a flyer with a photograph stapled to the telephone pole. A name. A birthdate and a death date. A face that could have been his brother's.

A few days ago, Roy had received a letter via courier. An official notice, with the letterhead of the Pharae province, signed by the son of Ninian and Eliwood.

"Please live your life to the fullest. Your life is now entirely your own. I intend to accept responsibility for my own choices from this point forward. No one will sacrifice their life for mine any longer. You are hereby relieved of your obligations to the state of Pharae and the League of Lycia. And please, forgive my father. He only did what he had to do for my sake. Know that he cared for you. I will always acknowledge you as my brother. Leave the past behind and move forward to a better future. No matter the outcome of the current situation, I am glad to have known you."

Roy set down the toy sword. He stood in silence at the spot where another had died. Then he ran on.

Past warehouses and condemned buildings.

Under an overpass, Roy came to an old mattress, a tent, and a cardboard box. He stopped and backtracked. The box looked familiar.

He kicked it over.

"Watch it, kid!"

Roy jumped back. "What the hell, Snake?"

The man rose to full height, eyes hard, clothes worn out. His beard hadn't been trimmed in a few days. He dusted off his mud stained pants. He met Roy's eyes with a level stare. "You gotta learn to be more subtle."

Roy took in his appearance. Snake knew how to wear disguises. Roy was impressed. "Have you been following me?"

"No. I just hang out here."

"Yeah, sure. In a tent under the fucking overpass. That's totally what normal people do on their weekends."

"You want any coffee?"

"What?"

Snake motioned to the other side of the tent. He had a couple crates set up there, along with a portable stove and a battery powered coffee maker. He retrieved two mugs from the tent and offered one to Roy.

With a sigh, Roy accepted it. He took a seat on one of the crates. Snake took the other and poured out the coffee.

"Careful, it's hot."

"Thanks."

"Sugar?"

"Nah."

"Good, I'm out."

"Why'd you offer then?"

"It's a ritual. You gotta do it, even if you're out."

"If you say so."

"Cheers."

Roy shook his head, but he took a sip anyway. Bitter. Burnt. And strong enough to wake the dead. He looked around. Snake's wasn't the only tent in the area.

Around them, there were other signs of life. A few grunts and coughs. The smell of cigarettes. Street weed. And some other things.

"You haven't been answering your phone," Snake said.

"I was busy."

"Do it again, and I'll mark you down as KIA."

"I've been that."

"Ha." Snake lit up a cigarette. "You've got a lot to learn out here." He held out the open carton. After a moment, Roy took one. Snake held the flame for him.

"Thanks."

Snake slipped the lighter back into his pocket. The cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth. "I saw your little stunt last night."

"You and everyone else."

"That was risky."

"Yeah, well, it had to happen, okay? You never said I couldn't do it. So I did. It was an exhibition match. No one cares what happens during those. They don't count towards anything."

"You were interrupting something."

"Who knows? It's Martha. He's got his own thing. Everything's a performance with that one."

"You made contact?"

"Yeah."

"How did it go?"

Roy shrugged. "He's mad at me."

"Did you verify the intel?"

"Look, it's kind of hard to figure out what he's talking about half the time. But I mean what I said."

Snake smoked in silence for a bit. Then he asked, "Are you caught up on your reading?"

"Yeah."

"Then you know what you're looking for."

"Hey, it's like I told you. No guarantees. I don't know the others as well as I do him."

"How well do you know him?"

"Better than you. How 'bout that?"

"That's not saying much, kid."

"What you saw last night. That was his resignation. He's breaking ranks. And they'll come after him once they figure it out."

"You think he'll go through with it?"

"Yeah. He thinks it's the right thing to do."

"Did the message get across to the other side?"

"Well, I kind of got in the way. So maybe not. There's probably some debate on it right now."

"Can you convince him to undo it?"

"I mean, I could try?"

"Tell him we need him to keep his position."

"His position is ceremonial. He says he can't change anybody's mind over there. He has influence but not power. That's why he's willing to throw it away. And he needed to make a point of it in public. Or else it wouldn't matter."

"We don't need him to change anybody's mind. We just need insider information from him. We need him as a liasion."

"They're not going to have insider info that you need. Altea is choosing a play of non-interference. They're not a providing tactical assistance. So Bern's not sharing strategic intel with them."

"Make contact with Kamui, and tell me what you think then."

Roy shook his head. There were a couple different ways the whole thing could blow up. Bern could form a coalition of willing allies to lend logistical support, or even arms and personnel, to their war against the tribes and Lycia. But more than likely, they didn't have that kind of support. Instead, they had a simpler and equally effective option. All they needed to do was convince the other states to maintain their neutrality. Without outside objection or interference, the massacres would continue.

Snake had warned him to be careful with his phrasing of things. In effect, any country adopting neutrality in response to the conflict only aided the aggressor, Bern. But if Roy emphasized that point too much in his communications, he would only end up putting more pressure on Marth to do more work from within the Altean state.

It was a delicate situation.

The important point was, Marth was an ally to the tribes and to the League.

Roy settled his eyes on Snake. "You holding out on me, old man?"

"No. But even if I knew anything, I couldn't tell you. I can't say anything that might sway your opinion. We're betting on your unbiased intuition."

"Yeah, sure."

They drank their coffee, watched the pigeons. Watched the camp wake up.

These types of places knew their regulars. They must have gotten used to Snake. Which meant that he must have stayed here before.

A couple of grizzled men shuffled by, one dark, one light, faces unshaven, hair flattened under black woolen caps. They both nodded at Snake. And Snake returned it.

"They know you out here, don't they?" Roy asked.

"Ex-service guys," the soldier stated simply. He said nothing else about it.

"Seems like there should be a better place for you all to go."

"Not really. The shelters are full. So are the psych wards. You ever been in one? They run 'em like institutions. Like prisons. Most would rather be out here."

"Well, in that case, I can't really blame 'em."

Snake lit up another cigarette. "If you want my opinion on the whole thing, I'll tell you. Peace is better than war. Guys like your princess are worth more than guys like you and me. He's a diplomat, and a real one. He's only giving up now because he thinks it's a losing battle. It doesn't have to be. If he can get Bern to the negotiating table, I'd want his solution more than yours and mine."

Snake continued, "And I don't care how many of you kids bleed on that stage in the arena. It's better than bleeding out here. Let him know that. He doesn't talk to me anymore. If the song and dance in the arena, in front of cameras, if the performance moves people, then have him use that. Tell him that it'd lead to a more sustainable resolution than what we've got cooking up back here."

"We're out of options, Snake."

"What do you mean by 'we?'"

"Sacae. We've been bleeding for years. And I'm done bleeding."

The old soldier watched him through a fog of tobacco smoke. "You want the front line that bad?"

"Can't stay in the back and watch others suffer. Not for my whole life. You were the one pushing me to get up and make something of myself. Now you're trying to make me second guess myself."

"No. I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into."

"My mother didn't have a choice. Shit happens. You rise to the occasion. That's it. You gain nothing by staying on the sidelines. I can't live that way."

"Thought you were the one saying 'those kids don't stand a chance?'"

"They probably still don't, to be honest. We don't. But this ain't livin.' We got nowhere else to go. We didn't start the fucking war. They came at us. They brought the war to us. We didn't ask for this shit. So we do what we gotta do."

"Hm." Snake smoked in silence for a bit. He must have heard it all before. Nothing new under the sky. Humanity's desperate dance. Freedom, survival, subjugation, or death.

"The summit is next month," the soldier said. "Every key player on the continent has a representative at this event. You have a few days. Tell us how you think the alliances will line up. It'll give your side some advanced notice. They'll be able to make the necessary preparations."

"I thought you all had official channels for that sort of intel."

"Lycia does. The tribes don't. And they don't trust Lycian sources. We're going at this from all angles."

"You think they'll trust me?"

"You're one of them, aren't you?"

"Ask them. I wouldn't know." Roy downed the rest of his coffee. "If I keep up my side of the bargain, then you have to keep yours."

"That's a given."

"Nothing's a given. Not out here. We've been lied to before."

"That wasn't me. If you want to know the truth, I stand by what I said earlier. I knew your parents. We fought together. I owe them this."

Roy glanced at Snake. Found the man's eyes hard, staring at the distance, into a past world Roy didn't know, wasn't a part of.

Roy stood up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fresh carton of cigarettes. He set it down on the crate next to Snake. "Alright then. I'll hold you to that."

"Stay in contact," Snake said.

Roy tucked his hands into his pockets. "Remember the deal. I go to the front. Martha stays right here. If they come after him, you get him out."

Snake made a soft noise, a quiet almost laugh. "Your princess can handle himself."

"He likes to think that. Don't you dare believe it." Roy turned to go. But before he left, he gave Snake a mock salute.

Snake did the same. "Watch your back, son of Lyn."

"You too, boss."

Back at the hotel cafeteria, they were holding brunch.

Roy ran a hand through his hair and tried to look presentable. There were more people here than he knew the names of. The tables were all full. Half of the occupants looked hung over.

He wasn't in a mood to socialize, but it was a part of the job.

Roy had barely set foot in the place before someone called out his name. He turned around just in time to get tackled by Lucina and a very enthusiastic Pichu.

"I wasn't sure you would come!" she cried.

"Hey, nice to see you too."

"Pichu!"

He crouched down and patted the yellow mouse on its head. "Good to see you, lil' buddy."

"Mac!" Lucina shouted. "Look at who decided to show up!"

Two chairs and a table toppled over when Mac leapt up from his seat. "There he is!"

"Hey - "

Mac grabbed him so hard Roy swore he felt a rib creak under the pressure.

"Yo! What the fuck!" Mac bounced from side to side. "You didn't answer my texts! You came into this mother like a goddamn hurricane!"

"Ugh, yeah, it was just - "

"Bogard! I want you to meet my friend!"

Roy looked over. Terry stood by the table. He was grinning.

"We met on the way over," Terry said.

"No way!"

"We got arrested together."

"No fucking way!"

"Long story," Roy muttered.

"Show him what you got, Terry!"

"What?"

With a bold smile, Terry whipped out something he'd been holding behind his back. "Check it out."

"That's..."

"I stole Falcon's helmet."

"You...what...?"

"I stole Falcon's helmet," Terry repeated.

Roy snatched it out of his hands. It was legit. Falcon's signature red helmet with the bird insignia on the front.

Roy felt his left eyebrow twitching. This was...not good.

"How," he started, "the hell, did you ever...?"

"Grabbed it while he was sleeping."

"You were in his room?"

"Yep."

"Why...were you in his room?"

"He invited me up."

"To do what?"

"We played cards."

"Cards."

"Yep."

"Terry..."

"Huh?"

"Did you guys - "

Lucina socked him in the shoulder.

"I'm just saying," Roy continued. "The only thing deadlier than the Falcon Knee is the Falcon D - "

Lucina socked him again. "Roy..."

"I'm just saying. This isn't a good thing, you guys."

"It'll be fine."

"Uh, no, it will not be fine. No one knows what he looks like, okay? He could be anyone in this fucking room. And when he finds you - "

"No, it's cool, I swear." Terry pulled out a set of keys from his pocket. "He lost a card game and traded me these instead of cash."

"You got the keys to the Blue Falcon?"

"Is that what it's called?"

"Yo!" Mac jumped up and down. "That's sick!"

Roy looked back and forth between Mac and Terry.

"They have the same personality," Lucina observed.

"I know," Roy grumbled. "And that's going to be a category five disaster."

"We might as well take it for a spin," Terry said.

"Awesome!"

"No." Roy made a fist around the keys. "How drunk were you last night?"

"I only had a couple."

"Do you remember everything that happened?"

"Well..." Terry looked up at the ceiling. "I think...?"

"Do you know you've got bruises on your neck...?"

"What?"

A door flew open on the other side of the room. The air changed temperatures. Roy felt the sizzle of atmospheric heat.

"Oh shit..."

He knew the presence of the Falcon fire. It was a thing felt before it was seen.

Roy tossed the helmet back into Terry's hands and took off running in the opposite direction. He still had the keys in his hand. Not a good idea, but Falcon's car was fast. He thumbed the emergency button.

He hauled ass down the hall and kicked open the door to the back parking lot. Mac and Terry came in right behind him, as if they had all instinctively sensed their impending doom.

Around the corner, the blue chrome of Falcon's car appeared as the autopilot steered it into the car port. The doors opened, and Roy jumped inside.

"That's a nice ride!" Mac shouted.

"Get in," Roy advised. "If you want to live."

Mac seemed to hesitate, but he was suddenly pushed from behind.

"Get in!" That was Lucina. Pichu on her shoulder. She had followed them.

They piled in, and Roy hit the accelerator. They narrowly missed the side of the building and a traffic light.

"You got the okay to drive this thing?" Mac asked.

Terry shrugged. "Hey, he lost the game fair and square."

Roy felt the adrenaline hit. It was a shaky "live to die" level of aggression, and it had taken full control of him. He knew he had a job to do. And this wasn't it. But he and Falcon had some unsettled business.

And since this was likely to be his last Smash tournament ever, Roy figured it was time to settle.

They hit the open road, and Roy gunned it towards the horizon.

if i fall, if i die
know i lived it to the fullest
if i fall, if i die
know i lived and missed some bullets