I followed you out in the storm
But it carried you off
And I burned every picture of yours
Was that not enough?
Rise Against
"People Live Here"
Young Lions
((n+4)/3)
We Don't Fuck With Casuals
Mac wouldn't stop playing with the sound system.
"Just pick a station," Lucina called from the back seat.
"Gimme a minute." He cranked the bass all the way up. "Let's see what the Captain has on his playlist."
Suddenly, loud erratic techno dance music exploded from the speakers.
Terry nearly jumped out of his seat, hitting his head against the roof in the process. Pichu dove into Lucina's lap. And Lucina slapped Mac on the backside of the head.
"Turn it down."
"Ow!" But he complied. "What is this?"
"Music from the future," Roy said.
"No shit, really?"
Roy did a double take at the genuine tone of Mac's question. "No, of course not. Are you an idiot?" He turned his attention back to the road. "How would that even work?"
"Hey, man, you never know around here! I met Falco, right? From Team Star Fox. That guy! And he had these ideas..."
"Falco's a con man."
"What?! How do you know that?"
"He's my friend."
"Hear me out. He's got this idea for how to make money. It involves - "
"A pyramid scheme?"
"Nah, man. Nothing like that. It's just this system where you sell products to people in your social circle. And then they sell the same thing to other people they know. But the trick is - "
"You get a payout for everyone you enlist."
"Yeah! And then - "
"That's a pyramid, Mac," Lucina said.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Waitaminute. How is it that you sword guys know everything?"
"We don't get hit in the head as often as you do."
"What? No. Listen. Everyone gets hit in the head. A lot. Everyone. That's just how it works."
"Not really. You could try dodging once in a while."
Mac laughed. "No way. That's not part of my game plan."
"You have a game plan?" Lucina said doubtfully.
"I do." Mac fake jabbed into the air. "Hit fast. Hit hard. Just don't get hit back."
Lucina groaned. "Mac. That's not a strategy."
But Terry nodded in approval from the back seat. "That's how I do it too."
"Alright!" Mac swung around to fist bump his new friend but almost clobbered Pichu on the way.
The mouse squeaked in protest.
"Watch it!" Lucina warned.
"Sorry, little guy."
"Pichu..."
Just then, an engine roared, and it wasn't the Blue Falcon.
Roy glanced at the dash screens. Something was coming up on their right. A hot pink car with red and orange flames.
"What's that?" Mac turned toward his window. "Dang! They're gaining on us."
The car matched them, side to side. Then it shot out ahead of them.
Instinctively, Roy stepped on the accelerator. They raced toward the intersection. The light went from green to yellow. The pink car showed no sign of slowing.
"Hey, buddy?" Mac called out. "You might wanna slow down?"
But Lucina had shot forward in her seat. She gripped Roy's shoulder. Her eyes never left their rival car.
"Smoke them," she said.
Mac stared at her in disbelief. "You're supposed to be the reasonable one!"
The light went red. But the streets were clear. The pink car blasted through the intersection, and so did Roy.
The road curved. Roy took the inside lane. The other car started to fall back, veering toward the outer shoulder.
"This isn't how I wanna go!" Mac shouted.
"We're fine," Lucina said. Her voice was ice cold, something as hard as steel. Roy hadn't seen it in her before. Not at this caliber.
The next intersection was busy. Roy slammed the brakes. Threw them all forward in their seats. The pink car pulled up next to them, revving its engine.
"Guess it's not over," Roy mumbled. His heart pounded. Falcon's car wasn't hard to pilot. But he didn't do this kind of thing often. The onboard computer was probably correcting all his mistakes.
"Maybe you can lose them," Mac suggested. "Take the next turn."
"No," Lucina said. "The lanes merge up ahead. When the light turns green, get ahead and cut in front of them."
"Not sure that's such a great idea..." Mac said.
"Just do it."
The light went green. Roy hit it again. They shot ahead of the pink car. Roy swerved hard in front of them.
"They're on our tail," Terry said.
Roy laughed. He couldn't help it. He felt reckless. "Should I brake check them?"
They entered a tunnel. Two lanes opened up again. The pink car tried to pass on the right. Roy took both lanes and blocked it from getting past.
"Oh man!" Mac groaned. "He's gotta be real mad. You sure this is a good idea?"
"No," Roy said, in all honesty. But they were too far in it to change course.
They dodged a delivery truck and several commuter cars on the way out of the tunnel. Signs and cones marked off a construction zone.
"Road closure!" Mac cried out. "Up ahead."
Roy took a sharp turn, running over orange cones and knocking over at least one sign.
They hit a narrow alleyway, slipping past trash cans and dumpsters, and came out the other end.
"Holy shit, man!"
"Calm down, Mac." Of all of them, Lucina showed the least amount of fear.
"How are you so chill!" the boxer shouted.
"I don't see 'em anymore," Terry reported from the back.
"Guess they missed that turn," Lucina said. She seemed disappointed.
Roy took his foot off the gas. He let them slow to a normal speed. Little black spots winked in and out of his peripheral.
Terry breathed a sigh of relief and slouched in his seat, Pichu huddled in his lap. Mac laughed hysterically.
"You crazy bastard! I can't believe we got away with that!"
Lucina looked around through all the windows. Her expression was pensive, alert.
Roy pulled them into a vacant parking lot. The high was still there. And now it was making him shake. "Anyone got cigarettes?"
"Oh man, I thought I was gonna die before my first official match..." Mac grabbed Roy by the shoulder and shook him. "I love you, man, but I'm never riding with you again."
"Pichu!"
"Sorry," Roy said to the trembling rat.
"Oh sure," Mac huffed. "You'll apologize to the rodent but not to me."
Roy found a half empty carton of smokes in his pocket. "You want one?"
"No, I got a match later tonight. You should lay off of those things too."
"I'm weaning myself off. Can't go cold turkey. That just leads to withdrawal."
He was already feeling off. He'd felt it all day. A strange unshakeable restlessness. A mild agitation. He was hungry without appetite. He needed something, but he couldn't think of a thing that would satisfy him.
Roy threw open the driver's side door and got out to light up.
Mac got out too and looked around. "Hey, where are we?"
"You don't recognize it?" Roy asked.
"No."
They were in the shadow of a large drab concrete building, sealed off behind a chain link fence that had been twisted and broken through in a couple places. The site looked like it was set to be demolished. Signs warned against trespassing.
Terry got out with Pichu on his shoulder. Lucina joined them.
"It looks abandoned," she said, looking at the building.
"It's the old Smash stadium," Roy said.
"Wow." Mac took in the sight. "It must have seen better days."
Roy shrugged. "Something like that." He stared at its walls, stripped of its signage and colors, marked now by graffiti. He still remembered how it had looked his first day. It had been an intimidating giant. Like a sacred place, something off-limits to the likes of him. And now...
He scanned up to the rooftop. It was then that he realized they were not alone.
Mac noticed it too. "Whoa. Someone's up there."
"Yeah."
"Who's that?"
"A newcomer," Roy said.
The man was tall and muscle bound. He was wearing a red headband and a white karate gi. He stood completely still, staring down at them without a word.
"Should we say hi?" Mac asked.
"I don't think he wants to be bothered," Lucina said.
Roy whistled. "Hey, sexy! Why don't you come out and play!"
The man said nothing. But his frown seemed to deepen.
"Guess he's the shy type," Roy said.
"Well," Mac pointed out, "your invitation wasn't all that convincing."
Then the man on the roof turned his head to look in the direction from which the group had come.
Terry followed his gaze. "Hey guys! They found us!"
Roy spotted the pink car barreling toward them from down the road. "Not this shit again."
The car came to a stop behind the Blue Falcon. The driver's door popped open.
"Where's Captain Falcon?!"
The pilot was a large heavy man in a vest and a racing helmet, eyes concealed by goggles.
In response to his question, Roy merely offered an indifferent shrug. "I dunno."
"This is his machine!"
"Yeah..."
"So you're all thieves, are you?"
"Nah." Roy nodded in Terry's direction. "My friend's got special privileges."
The other doors on the pink car opened. The first to emerge was a girl with long white hair and a navy blue cape. Roy's eyes fell to her first. Hoshido's Corrin. Snake's "Kamui."
The girl came forward. "Lucina..." She froze midstep.
Lucina glanced at her but said nothing to acknowledge her.
Behind her, the rest of the pilot's crew fell into place. But they were an unlikely group. Not more unlikely, Roy realized, then the one he himself had unintentionally assembled.
One was a teal-haired young man in black. Another wore heavy robes, his white hair short but wispy.
Roy had learned their names. Byleth. Robin. And the pilot...
"Samurai Goroh," Roy said.
"That's right! And you are about to learn your place!"
"Sure." Roy put out his cigarette. "Why don't you call the cops?"
"I don't deal with 'em, son." Goroh took two steps and drew his sword. Suddenly, he charged in, just as Roy pivoted to meet the attack.
The katana flashed into view, its blade sharpened to kill. Roy was a fraction of a second too slow. But it didn't matter.
Steel met steel. The lethal edge of the katana clashed with the Parallel. Lucina had stepped in front of Roy. She deflected Goroh's strike, catching him completely off guard. With a small twist of her sword arm, she knocked the man off his line of attack.
Goroh fell back with a stumble. As he resettled into position, he must have noticed what Roy also noticed, that Lucina had thrown him off with very precise movements. She had used the least amount of force to accomplish what she needed to do. In the arena, this was a tactic meant to conserve energy. It required a high level of skill to operate this way.
Sword drawn, her eyes never left her target, even as she sized up her surroundings.
Goroh raised his weapon. He seemed to recalculate his odds.
"You don't look like much," he snapped.
Lucina said nothing.
So Goroh came in for a second try. His sword cut down from above.
She parried the blow. Then she circled in and slammed him in the face with an elbow.
He fell back, bleeding.
Roy recognized that move. It was the same one he had used against Cloud on opening night.
Before she could launch a full offensive, Roy stepped in between them. Eyes on Goroh's crew, he leaned in close to Lucina's ear.
"Save it for the stage. They're taking notes."
Lucina turned slowly toward the others. Byleth watched her intently. Robin, in particular, seemed focused on the details of the fight. Corrin merely looked apprehensive.
Everyone here, except for Roy and Goroh, were competitors. Learning an opponent's habits was a key part of developing a strategy against them. Anything a fighter displayed to an audience was potentially a tool to be used against them.
If Robin was anything like the rumors said of him, he had already learned much from the little demonstration.
Goroh righted himself. "Oh, you'll pay for that!"
But Corrin grabbed his arm. "We really shouldn't do this."
"Are you kidding me?"
Roy spoke up. "You're here for me, right? We can go. Just don't involve no one else." His face was still busted and taped up from yesterday's fights. But he wasn't a contender this time. What did one more matter?
"Sounds good to me!" Goroh surged forward, but was stopped again by Corrin.
"Mr. Goroh! You're on parole!"
Roy glanced down at the man's leg, where he spotted the ankle monitor. He couldn't suppress a laugh. "That's tough, man."
"Who cares?" Goroh shot back.
"You should," Roy advised. "You really should."
Byleth slid up beside Goroh. "I'll take this one."
His voice was soft, cold. His eyes gave nothing away. Something about the way he carried himself seemed very familiar.
"Alright then," Roy said. "You and me."
"You don't have a sword," Lucina objected.
Roy felt a nudge. It was Mac, at his right.
"You fought yesterday," his friend reminded him. "Why don't you sit this one out?"
"If I sit out, we all head back. Now."
But Mac squared up against Byleth. "Let's go."
Roy shook his head. "Hey - "
Too late. Mac swung on Byleth.
It went downhill from there. Byleth dodged the first hit. The second got him in the gut though. The third clipped the side of his head.
For a second, Roy thought Mac would win. He was too close for Byleth to even draw his sword. But the fourth punch never landed. Byleth drew from his waist a small dagger. And Mac's face split open, red with blood.
Roy punched Byleth in the face. Byleth hit the ground. Robin jumped in front of him, palm open towards Roy.
"You said one on one," Robin objected. "You can't all gang up on him."
"Let them come." Byleth's voice was barely above a whisper as Corrin helped him back up. He drew his sword. "I see no one here worthy of a challenge on their own."
Terry pulled Mac to his feet. Mac pressed a hand to the cut on his face. "We'll see about that!" Pichu hopped onto his shoulder, eyes sharp, cheeks buzzing.
"Hey," Roy cut in. "They've got a point." He looked back at his bloodied friend. "You'll get disqualified if you get caught up in this."
"You all got some bad blood or what?"
Roy turned back to Byleth. "Just a rivalry."
A small furrow formed at Byleth's brow. "Rivalry?"
"Yeah."
"He never called you that," Byleth said.
"What?"
"He never called you his rival."
"Who?"
"My teacher."
Byleth's sword shot out, lightning fast. And just as fast, Lucina was there to counter it. Their blades clashed, and she shoved him off violently.
Thrown back, Byleth took a defensive stance. His confidence dropped a notch.
Lucina raised the point of her weapon.
"Are you still angry?" Byleth asked. His tone was neither condescending nor provoking. It was merely a question.
"We wondered what had happened to you after you left," Robin added.
"You never returned my calls," Corrin said. Her hands were balled into fists. Her eyes seemed wet. "It was like you wanted nothing to do with us anymore."
Lucina didn't lower her guard. When she spoke, her tone was unapologetic.
"I found my way."
"This?" Corrin made a gesture in Roy's direction. "This is your way?"
Lucina said nothing.
"You used to call me friend," Corrin pleaded. "What are we now?"
Lucina shook her head. A slow vicious motion. "Strangers."
A stricken looked passed across Corrin's face. "You..."
Roy felt that he had tuned into a movie already in progress.
"You were the best among us," Robin said. "Why did you leave?"
Lucina was unfazed. "Some things made it hard for me to stay."
Corrin sank to her knees, drawing the concern of those around her. Robin offered her a hand, but she didn't take it.
"Byleth..." she begged. "Let's just go."
The swordsman seemed reluctant to leave. He locked eyes with Lucina. She hadn't looked away from him during the whole encounter.
Corrin rose to her feet. She wiped away tears. "Please. Stop. I can't take any more of this."
Finally, Byleth backed up slowly. He sheathed his sword.
Robin nodded at Roy. "We'll settle this another day."
Roy shrugged. "Suit yourselves."
Corrin had already turned her back.
Byleth looked at Lucina. Her sword was still out, but she kept the point lowered.
"You may have been the best," he said, "but that's in the past now. Don't worry about us. We've found our way as well."
"Who said I was worried?" she answered.
"I look forward to facing you in the arena."
"Good luck." There was still an edge to her tone, but not enough to suggest outright hatred. Just a stone cold resolve.
As the rest of his crew disappeared back into the vehicle, Goroh pointed at Roy. "You're lucky I'm wearing this thing." He indicated his ankle monitor.
"Yeah," Roy threw back. "Sure."
"You kids better get this heap of trash back to Falcon before he comes after ya."
Roy nodded at Goroh's monitor. "You better get back before the distance alarm goes off."
"I'll see you again, punk. Don't forget your blade next time."
The doors slammed shut on the pink car. The engine thundered, and it took off in a surge of heat and dust.
As Roy turned back to the rest of the group, he noticed that the rooftop of the old Smash stadium was clear. Seemed like the silent loner had vacated his spot.
Only then did Lucina sheath her sword.
Roy wanted to ask for the back story on that whole episode. But judging by the look in her eyes, now was not the time.
"Corrin's a babe," Mac said as Roy cleaned out his cut with antiseptic. They were seated at the curb, parked in the shade behind a discount drug store.
"Don't go there," Lucina said.
"I'm just sayin'."
"Her face doesn't match her heart."
Mac fell silent while Roy started taping up his face. The words had been said with too much knowing.
"Girls like that..." Lucina trailed off. "I thought she was different. Nevermind."
Terry came around the corner with Pichu perched on his hat. He carried a cardboard tray with drinks and paper bags marked with the name of the parking lot coffee stand.
"Got you guys some food."
Mac brightened up immediately. "Thanks, man! We all sorta missed brunch."
"How's the cut?" Terry asked.
"Just a scratch," Mac assured him.
Roy sealed it with medical glue. "Let's hope it doesn't open during your first match."
Terry held the tray out to Lucina. She uncrossed her arms to take a cup of tea and one of the pastry bags.
Terry tossed another bag to Mac, who tore it open in an instant.
Roy helped himself to a bagel. He flinched as a realization hit him. He pulled out his phone. He'd forgotten to call.
He hastily punched out a text.
- sorry got caught up in something wanna meet up later?
"You gonna tell us the full story?" Mac asked Lucina.
"There's not much to say."
"They were your friends, yeah?"
"We were students under the same teacher."
"You mean, like, a training camp?"
"Yes. Exactly."
"Why'd you leave?"
"It's complicated." She looked at Roy. "When he said that his teacher never called you a rival, he meant Marth. They're all his students."
Roy remembered Byleth's eyes. That cold calm detachment. "Makes sense," he admitted. "But that means, you were once his student too."
"Correct."
He should have known. From the moment that they'd met. That she had sought him out for a reason.
"You must have burned some bridges when you left," he said.
"I still respect Marth. But I have some differences with the rest of them."
"They don't seem like terrible people," Mac offered.
"Really? He cut your face open."
"Well, to be fair, I did hit him pretty hard."
"Our blades have to be dulled in order to be tournament legal. That knife had a cutting edge."
"As long as he doesn't carry the dagger onto the stage," Roy said, "he'll still be compliant with the rules."
"Goroh's katana was sharpened."
"He's not a contender."
Lucina drew her sword. She held it out to Roy with both hands.
"Take a look."
He accepted the weapon and examined the blade. The edge was blunt to tournament standards. But there were nicks on it. Roy counted three marks, fine lines, etched into it.
Two from Goroh. One from Byleth.
He handed the sword back to its owner.
"Marth trains his students to win," Lucina said.
"He doesn't train them to cheat."
"No, he doesn't. But it's been a contentious issue. They fought to have the rules rewritten in their favor. Their blades have to be blunt except for a specific spot. They are allowed to be sharp in one place only. It could be near the hilt, or the center, or at the tip."
"Marth prefers the tip," Roy said.
Mac laughed. "Just the tip, right?"
"You don't want to know the answer to that one."
Lucina looked at Mac. "You should probably load your gloves."
"Seriously?"
"It's not against the rules."
"I dunno. Seems like a cheap trick to me."
"Do you know what you're up against?"
"I mean..."
She turned to Terry. "Same goes for you."
"Pichu?" The rat twerked its head to the side.
"You'll be fine. Zap anything that moves."
"Pichu," it chirped back with an affirmative nod.
"Oh man." Mac stretched his arms over his head. "Thought I could make some friends, have some fun. But things are already getting heated."
"Welcome to Smash," Lucina told him.
"That's my line," Roy said.
"You sword people," Mac grumbled. "Just gotta take it to a whole new level, huh?"
Lucina sighed. "Yes, we do. Never forget that. We're actually a rather mean species."
"Eh, well. Robin seemed alright. Byleth was hard, but he wasn't an asshole. And Corrin's pretty cute."
Lucina shook her head. "You'll know her face but not her heart. Trust me."
"Wait, were you two, like...together-together?"
"Don't ask too many questions, Mac."
"Damn, that's really fucking hot though!"
Lucina tore a piece off of her croissant and flung it at him. He missed the dodge, and it bounced off his forehead.
"No items!"
"You're an idiot."
Roy's phone beeped. It was a message from Marth.
- Yes
"Well," he said to Lucina, "I may be able to get some info for you."
Straight from the source.
Twintelle descended on them the moment they entered the backstage area.
"I need all of you in the main exhibit hall."
"What for?" Lucina asked.
"You're all late for the autograph session."
"I think I'll pass," Mac said.
"It's in your contract. You want to keep your sponsors happy, yes?"
"Well, yeah, but..."
None of them were in the right condition for a photo op. Twintelle looked the whole group up and down, left and right.
"What were you all doing? Crawling through the gutter?"
"Well..." Mac tried to explain.
"Dressing rooms are that way." She ushered them down the hall.
"Have fun," Roy called out as he tried to slip away, only to be yanked back by the collar.
"Not so fast, mister. We have a spot reserved for you too."
"Hey, I'm not even supposed to be here."
"Oh? Your little act last night got everybody talking. The fans remember you. They really want to see you now."
"I'm pretty sure I don't have any fans left, okay? Now if you'll excuse me..."
But something hooked him by the arm and dragged him back. Roy looked down and realized that it was Twintelle's hair.
"What the hell!"
"We don't have time for this." She pulled him along. With both hands free, she stole a brush from a side pouch and pushed it onto Lucina. "Hair and makeup down that way." She shoved Mac in the same direction. "You too!"
"I don't do makeup," Mac whined.
"That's why you don't get any dates," Lucina told him. She turned to Roy. "Let's meet up later." Then she disappeared down the hall with Mac in tow.
"Listen," Roy said to Twintelle, trying to extract himself from her hair. "As much as I'd love to totally act like some big shot, I'm just a has-been at this point."
They turned the corner, and suddenly found themselves staring down Blood Falcon. He did not seem happy.
"Oh, shi - "
"FALCON..."
Roy ducked behind Twintelle. Pichu ducked behind Terry. And Terry just stood there and closed his eyes.
The Captain's fist stopped just in front of Terry's face. The fist opened, palm up, and slapped the red cap off of the blonde's head.
Terry blinked. "Uh, here's your helmet back," he said sheepishly.
The Captain took him by the front of his shirt and slammed him into the wall. He grabbed the helmet. And the keys.
"I'll deal with you later."
He let go. Then he turned and strode away.
"There better not be a scratch on the car, or I'll rearrange your guts."
Roy wasn't sure if that was a normal threat or a sexual one, and he had no interest in finding out.
"That's a lot of balls coming from the mascot of a dead franchise," Roy called out. Couldn't help himself.
Falcon flipped him off but didn't stop walking.
"The Captain's pulling in a huge crowd this year," Twintelle pointed out. "I don't think you could call his franchise dead."
"Never said he didn't have charisma."
"He's been in one movie and a television series. That's quite a bit more than you." She crossed her arms and nodded at Terry. "This one's been on the big screen too."
"You don't have to rub it in, you know."
"Even your rival," she continued. "He landed a speaking part in a movie."
"Really? Never seen it."
"Well, it was only one line. But that's still more than you."
"Nice. Good for him. Was it a commercial for anime wigs or some shit?"
"Why don't you ask him about it?"
"Yeah, okay. He's a star. I'm a nobody. Why am I doing this again?"
"Because you're making a comeback, remember?"
"I ain't making shit."
"Come with me. I have something for you." She pushed them both into a dressing room filled with staff. She shoved Terry, with Pichu on his shoulder, into a chair in front of a mirror, and left him to the mercy of a photo prep crew. She pulled Roy into a separate space, behind a curtain.
"What's all this?"
There was a clothing rack. She chose one item on a hanger and held it up for him.
"It's a gift," she explained. She laid it out on the table.
He stared.
It was a lot different than his old uniform. Though the colors were similar.
From a box, she retrieved boots and armor.
"Try them on," she insisted. "I hope you like them."
Then she vanished behind the curtain, leaving him alone with his own ghost.
He wasn't expecting it to hit this hard.
The first time he had put on his uniform, it had felt like it meant something. But over the years, that feeling had faded.
Now, it still haunted him. What had he come here for? What was he chasing?
The new costume was as inviting as it was repulsive.
He looked at himself in the mirror. Tried to remember the kid with big dreams. But there was no going back to that. Time had dragged him and run him over. He wasn't the same guy he once was.
Nevertheless, Roy shed his outer layer of clothing. He pulled on the new uniform, the new skin, let it settle over his shoulders, and fastened all the buckles. He stepped into the boots and threw on the armor.
Then he turned toward the mirror.
It was someone else looking back at him. His body had built up enough mass to fill in a once taunt frame. The skinny malnourished kid fighting over rations at a refugee camp was gone. The uniform carried with it a purpose. This reflection was that of someone who'd found his calling, a reason for the suffering and the pain of broken youth.
This was a stranger standing before him. Not the low-tier loser snarling from the bottom of the pit. It wasn't him, not in the slightest.
The image was a lie. It had to have been. The bones underneath it all were still the same.
The lion cub had grown up.
The curtain shifted. Roy turned from his reflection.
Marth, dressed in his classic navy blues with gold trim, stopped at the sight before him, soft locks falling into his eyes. He took it all in for a moment before meeting Roy's gaze.
"It suits you," he said.
Roy glanced back at the mirror. "A little dramatic. But I guess it works."
Marth lifted the cape off the table and dressed it over Roy's shoulders. Roy turned to face him so that he could adjust it from the front.
Marth's hands lingered as he fixed the cape in place. His fingers slid up Roy's neck and settled around his face.
They hadn't seen each other since early morning. A lot had happened since then.
Roy pulled him closer. Tried to steal a quick kiss. But the curtain moved again.
Roy looked up, expecting, maybe, Twintelle.
But Marth's body went rigid in his arms. As if, without even turning around, Marth knew who it was.
"Sorry, am I interrupting?"
Ganondorf had a well rehearsed smile that never quite reached his eyes. The bulk of him seemed to crowd the space between them.
In another time, Roy probably would have pulled away, embarrassed to show any display of affection. But now, he found himself firmly planted where he was. His shadow was larger. He gave the other man a disinterested look over Marth's shoulder.
"Nah, man. You need something?"
"Yes." His gaze turned to Marth, who failed to acknowledge him. He seemed to wait for it just the same. "We're both needed out front. You know where."
Marth answered coolly, without turning around, "Understood."
The curtain fell back as the other man retreated.
The tension stayed in Marth's body. He didn't look up.
"You good?" Roy had to ask, even though he knew he wouldn't get a real answer.
"Yeah."
Roy remembered what Rosalina had said. And he thought of all the different ways he could break Ganondorf's face. Pictured it nice and slow. Rewound it and repeated it.
Marth leaned into him and whispered, "Sorry. I wish we had more time."
"Later then. Tonight. I'll stop by your room."
"Sure." Marth left a kiss, soft, at the edge of his jaw. "I guess I'd better go."
"Right."
Marth pulled apart from him and turned to leave.
"Just one thing."
Marth stopped. "Hm?"
"I met your student today."
"Oh."
"He's a lot like you."
"Was I ever like that?"
"He has confidence. I'm sure he can fight."
"Fighting isn't everything."
"Well, around here it kind of is."
Marth took a breath. "As a trainer, you notice things about your students that they sometimes fail to recognize in themselves. Byleth is one of my best fighters. And yet...he has the loneliest eyes I've ever seen."
Marth paused. "Apart from yours."
Roy stared back in silence. "I figured it out," he said after a moment. "He will too."
"I hope so."
Do you cry my name in the dark
Like I do yours?