A few days later would find Popo slouched in front of their computer, grumbling to himself while he browsed through a backlog of messages waiting to be addressed. At least the incessant beeping stopped. There must have been an ongoing issue with Smashers not checking their consoles for missives, but was that annoying alarm really the best way to go about it? Especially in the morning, when the top of the sun wasn't even beginning to peek over the horizon!? He was in the middle of a really nice dream, too, before the aural assault forced him to instinctively lurch out of bed and fall onto his side. Nana, somehow, managed to remain sleeping throughout the ordeal even when he'd torn himself from her loving embrace, only a needy whimper betraying her disturbance.

Cheek propped up by palm, Popo clicked through the messages. A lot of mundane subjects were coming across the screen—most of them detailing new arrivals—and he was focused on simply clearing the inbox so he could go back to bed and maybe resume his dream. Something involving relaxing in front of a roaring hearth with Nana while…what else happened? He couldn't remember now, and it took some effort to not grind his teeth as the memory faded. Checking this machine at the end—or beginning—of the day would need to be added to their daily routine, if the situation was to be avoided from here on out.

Near the end of the list, a message of actual interest popped up. It shed some much-needed light on what to do when showing up for the ring entrance rehearsals. It boiled down to, basically, bring your fighting gear, and speak with the Mii at the Production Crew desk. A device for listening to their theme music would be provided, and one would eventually have use of the stage, ramp, and ring to practice their routine for 30 minutes. Then the next Smasher would get a turn; if there was time in the day, the cycle would loop back to the beginning of the queue. A change of clothes was recommended for when these sessions concluded.

He took a minute to write this information down on some provided stationary, and switched off the contraption. Briefly, he considered unplugging the thing altogether, but decided the action would probably be noticed by someone on high. Best not to make waves, he figured, before heading back to their bedroom.

By the time Popo came back to bed, the cyan display on their bedside clock showed five-thirty in the morning, meaning the computer's alarm woke him up a half-hour ago. He sighed and settled beneath the covers, immediately wriggling over to rest beside Nana. She was curled onto her side, facing away from him. Without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around her middle and contoured his position to hers, before immediately succumbing to sleep.

In the last couple mornings, Popo felt a sense of satisfaction from waking up with Nana still in his arms. Today was no exception, and he hoped he never took it for granted. Unwilling to quite yet face the day, he snuggled closer behind her and drew the blanket up a little higher over them both.

"We'll have to get up sometime…you know that right?" Nana mumbled after a few minutes, breaking the silence.

"Shh…let me dream for just a little bit longer." He whispered in response, gently nuzzling the back of her head. "Today's gonna be a busy one, and I want to just…put it off."

For a moment, all he'd heard from her was a relaxed sigh. "Maybe this is why we lived separately back home. We wouldn't get anything done, if we weren't forced to get up just to see one another."

He laughed quietly, hands finding hers. "Probably, but according to everyone else, we would have populated a whole new village if we were left alone." A smile touched his lips, remembering the speculations. When he and Nana first heard those rumors, their faces would flush while they dashed off to hide somewhere for a few hours. Nowadays, they just kind of laughed it off. A whole village—honestly! Maybe a household, though…

"You should have heard all the talk in the women's half of the bath house, Popo. I had to start bathing at midnight or midday just to avoid all of the 'advice' after people saw us just holding hands. I think they've been trying to breed us since our second go-round here." She giggled at that, rolling over partway to meet his eyes.

He could feel the heat rising to his face, just as a thought occurred.

"And you waited until now to tell me?" He responded with a grin.

"You sure didn't need my help to already entertain those thoughts, Love." Nana slipped a hand between them to lightly tap his nose. "Though now that it's just us, I think it's safe to tell you that a few girls said they would make a move on you if I waited too long." There was a sly glint in her eyes, which caused his hold to tighten somewhat out of instinct.

He did not want to be tested this early in the morning; time for evasive maneuvers.

"They, uh…should know I only have eyes for you."

"Didn't even ask 'who'... You're a smart boy, Popo." A broad smirk broke out over her face. "With that answer, I think I might keep 're-population' on the table."

How someone could choke on air, Popo would never be able to answer. But somehow, he managed. He was caught somewhere between coughing and stammering, fortunately having the presence of mind to turn his head to cough into his sleeve.

"When we're ready, of course," Nana continued, before quickly shifting the topic. "Think I'll take care of breakfast this time." With a sudden motion, she deftly slipped from his loosened hold and stood by the bedside, hands on her hips. For a moment, he'd forgotten that it was her day to make breakfast anyway. He also forgot she was wearing that shirt again, and seemed to revel in his blatant staring. The smirk turned…devious for a moment, before she twirled around and slowly strode out the bedroom door.

Popo lay motionless for a minute after Nana left. Once he was absolutely sure she was gone, he took deep breaths to slow his heart rate, and he found himself sweating all of a sudden. He let another minute pass before going over to the wardrobe to change out of his sleepwear.

"Dear Sila; It's me, Popo. Please don't let this girl be the end of me…"


"I think it's a good idea. The sooner we get our routine down, the sooner we can stop worrying about it." Nana was saying while she deftly flipped a pancake, catching it in the pan after performing a flourishing spin. While they had their meal cards, the delivery option for food still wasn't implemented, so in-home cooking it was. Neither of them wanted to leave the house for breakfast anyway; walking would have made them even hungrier, and the ensuing meal would have left them sleepy. And the heat…She didn't know how anyone could stand to actually live in these temperatures! Their only solace would come in the form of cooler months, unless Master Hand was cruel enough to remove the seasons…

"Yeah, plus I'm not a hundred percent sure how well it's gonna sync up with our music. We might have to add on or take out some things to make it work. I guess that's why we're supposed to rehearse it." Popo leaned back in his chair, and propped his feet on the table. Nana was a bit surprised to see him acting so casual, after their little exchange in the bedroom. But that was just the way he was; often quick to regain his composure, and always thinking forward. It was probably going to get him the position of Chief, if he really wanted it.

Not for the first time since they'd arrived, and oftentimes during their life back home, she pondered over the number of lines she might be—no, definitely was—crossing. Flirting was one thing; what she was doing started to drift—okay, veer—into more…suggestive territory. And Nana was completely lost as to how she felt about it. She was comfortable with the pace of their relationship; definitely not in any hurry to reach anything people considered 'milestones'. She didn't think Popo was either…at least emotionally. However, it was just so much fun to mess with the boy.

There were drawbacks to poking and prodding her partner, she knew, as she added the finished pancake to the waiting stack and began another. Popo's answers to pranks and teasing tended to equal what he received, which concerned her. Not that he would hurt her, but…she couldn't help but wonder what he would throw her way.

"Breakfast will be ready after I make a few more of these. Can you set the table?" Nana flipped the fresh pancake, barely paying attention to Popo's grunt of affirmation.

A light, but insistent, touch at the small of her back brought everything to a screeching halt.

Nana's breath hitched as the touch was joined by Popo pressing into her back, his warmth juxtaposing itself to the chills running up and down her spine. From the small of her back, his left hand slipped to her waist, and his other hand…was reaching overhead to access a cabinet. Two plates were removed and placed upon the countertop. That task completed, Popo's hands switched positions; the right now on her waist, while the left…reached over to the silverware drawer to remove utensils for the both of them. The process was repeated for their cups, and their napkins.

All this wouldn't be so damn maddening if his breath wasn't constantly blowing in her ears and over the nape of her neck throughout.

Popo's presence finally withdrew, eating implements stacked and balanced neatly in one hand, and Nana could finally relax with some hopefully unnoticed deep breathing. While her composure returned, she could distantly hear the sounds of the table being set. Before she was able to slow her hammering heart to a normal rate, though, the warm presence returned. This time, she seemed to be the absolute center of his attention; she still wasn't sure how to feel about it.

A gentle weight settled on her shoulder, and she (correctly) assumed it was his chin. His smile could be felt, as his arm snaked around her, his hand joining hers on the handle of the frying pan.

"You forgot this." His voice betrayed nothing; just an overall casual tone, as if he were discussing the day's schedule. A quick flick of the wrist, and the nearly-burnt pancake was upended in the pan. Nana blinked, and risked a glance at Popo. The utterly innocent countenance he bore nearly made her throw a punch—how dare him! Another blink—which he seemed to be waiting for—and he quickly winked before disengaging and resuming his previous seat at the now-set table, consulting the stationary he brought down from the computer room this morning.

"So I think I might map out the boxing ring area, when we get there," he said easily, writing a few notes down. "If there's a crowd, we could at least…"

Nana's thoughts drowned out Popo's words while she focused on the rest of her task, and consuming their filling meal. All throughout, she couldn't decide if maybe—just maybe—they were taking things too far, too fast.


The gargantuan form of the Primary Arena loomed—no, presided—over the other buildings in the immediate area. It stood easily twice as large as the place Popo and Nana competed in during their last stint in this world, and was built differently as well. As they circled around the structure—a task that took them about an uninterrupted half-hour of walking—they noted it was octagonal in shape. The building itself was constructed of a pristine white material neither could identify, with black accents at the corners and wherever else the architect deigned to place them. On all eight sides, the bisected circle logo of the Smash Brothers Tournament was carefully painted in a color that could only be described as 'prismatic'. The final touch came in the form of all of the banners hanging below the company logos; ten on each side of the building. It seemed a bit...repetitive, to simply have the logo on each banner, but who was Popo to question the wisdom of the designer? Eventually their loop around the building came back to the beginning, and they made their way towards the main entrance.

Standing so close to the arena, Popo felt an overwhelming urge to scale it. His eyes were already scanning the edifice for a means to simplify his ascent before a hand suddenly obscured his vision.

"I see that look and am vetoing the motion. Don't mount the building." Nana stated with an authoritative tone, which caused Popo to chuckle sheepishly.

"Yeah, yeah…I can't help it sometimes! Sometimes you just wanna climb something and assert dominance. Don't you feel it, Nana?" He poured as much dramatic flair into his little spiel as he could, adding in a gesture of importance which encompassed the grandeur of the structure.

"What I feel is that it's nowhere near even a tenth of Icicle Mountain's height. But for something that was manually built, it's an impressive thing. Maybe if another Smasher steals our food and hides it up there, we can climb it." Nana giggled softly, shifting her backpack into a more comfortable position.

"Yeah…you're right. I kinda miss the activity though," Popo mumbled as they stepped out of the sunlight and into the lobby of the arena. It was an equally grandiose, if currently empty, affair. Velvet rope barriers were everywhere, leading up to counters for all sorts of different uses. Stairs and elevators were likewise prominent features, connecting a great many floors together. The new crowds must be massive in order to require this level of infrastructure to suit their needs.

In stark contrast to the order of the lobby, a crude path consisting of water-absorbent rain mats, placed in a somewhat straight line, led from the main entrance towards one of the many grand archways that opened out into the arena proper. There was also a sloppily-made handwritten sign, on a piece of paper, which simply said 'REHEARSALS' with an arrow pointing in the same direction as the mats were laid out. It was taped to the back of a chair.

A glance and a shrug were shared between the two, and they tromped off towards the ring.

Just inside the archway, off to the right and behind a folding table, a Mii sat. Almost languidly, he raised his hand to stop their advance, fumbling for a clipboard with the other.

"Hey, whoa, hold up there you two. You folks here for practice, I take it?" At Nana's confident nod, he started leafing through the pages on the clipboard, mumbling to himself. "Alright, let me see who you guys are. No, don't help me! I got this..."

Popo snickered, though he was questioning the methods of this Mii. A very analog approach to things; there wasn't a computer in sight. These beings seemed to have their own little quirks. A byproduct of Master Hand's controlling nature, or was Crazy Hand involved in their creation as well?

"Number…thirty three? No, too short, and no animals." Popo sighed, sharing a bemused glance with Nana. "Maybe forty five…no, there's supposed to be eight of you. Aha, here we are! Number fifteen. Gimme a sec, here…" The Mii set the clipboard down and started rummaging through a box underneath the table, fishing out a small device after a few seconds. "Alright, you guys are third up in the queue. Use this here doohickey to listen to your theme song while you wait. Follow the yellow tape on the ground towards the changing rooms, get into your gear, and talk to the Mii at ringside for further instructions. Any questions?"

Nana and Popo shook their heads and left for the backstage areas at his wave of dismissal, Nana turning the device over in her hands. For some reason, Popo found the inclusion of their emblem on the back of the thing kind of funny. Was this branding going to be everywhere for everyone?

"So I think these dangly bits are for our ears," Nana hedged. "We'll just have to split the two between us."

"That'll work. At least this way we're not trying to fumble through the routine without getting a sense of the timing." Popo looked to the floor, briefly noting the line splitting up and pointing towards the changing rooms. "Guess this is where we split up for a couple minutes. Meet here or at ringside?"

"Let's meet up at ringside. I wouldn't want you to be bored waiting out here in case I suddenly decide to change my hairstyle or something." Without waiting for a response, Nana leaned over and gently pressed her forehead to his before strolling into the women's changing room.

Popo was quick to find his assigned locker in the changing area. Thankfully the logos weren't splashed on everything in here; a rather bog-standard numbering system, with a few numbers here and there missing for the sake of the women Smashers. Strangely enough, some numbers were doubled up, with one having an odd symbol next to it. Shrugging, he set his backpack down next to his locker, opening it with his touch, and quickly changed into the dull gray parka he packed.

Honestly, he didn't think this outfit, nor the corresponding brown one Nana was changing into, would see much use. Back home, these sets of clothes were usually reserved for mundane tasks like training or cleanup, or when they were waiting to launder their more colorful outfits. It was a unanimous decision to use these for the rehearsals, though, because they weren't afraid to get them dirty or scuffed.

After tugging on his gloves, boots, and crampons, he stowed his backpack into the surprisingly spacious locker. He took a moment to cradle his mallet, simply appreciating the heft and balance of the implement. It was a simple design; head and handle. The stout wood, from the Yukumo region, lent it an unusual resistance to explosions and fire—something they learned way back in their first foray—as well as a deceptively light weight.

After performing a few test swings, using both one and two-handed grips, Popo stepped back out of the locker room and headed for the ring.

Just outside the doorway, sat another Mii behind another folding table, consulting another clipboard as Popo drew near. "Gerald sent you?"

"If that was the guy near the main entrance, then yeah," stated Popo. "Has my partner come through here yet?"

"No, no one else came through since the first fella." The Mii jerked a thumb—if he had a thumb—over his shoulder towards the ring. Wario was currently practicing, his theme playing in the background over the many speakers stationed around the immediate area. His routine seemed to involve a couple of steps, but he seemed to mostly be working on riding his motorbike down the ramp and around the outside of the ring.

"Anyway, why don't you go have a seat behind the barricade? Anywhere's fine, as long as you're not interfering with someone else's practicing. If you have any questions, come talk to me. My name's Pat."

Popo bade his farewell and entered the seating area, negotiating the steps and rows of chairs until he found a seat facing both the ring and the side door he'd come in from. He then turned his attention towards the one-man show, as Wario set up for another attempt, his music cutting out as he stepped inside the darkened stage entrance.

While Popo waited, he casually inspected the arena. The place was enormous, taking full advantage of the building's dimensions. Everywhere he looked, there were rows upon rows upon rows of seats filling damn-near the entirety of the ample space. What sections of the walls that weren't taken up by seats were dominated by large screens, ensuring that no one could miss out on the action even if they were in the very top rows. One strange detail, one that he'd nearly overlooked, was the inexplicable pair of large vertical brackets attached to each screen and each section of seats not on the ground level. The ground-level seating was neatly bisected by the ring and its two entrance ramps. At the top of both ramps, one lit by blue panels and the other by red, were wide perpendicular stages. There was even a small section of seats at both ends, which formed an awning over the entrances to the ramp stages. Those were probably considered the best seats in the house, for the Opening Ceremonies.

Where was she? Popo had stood up and was staring towards the side entrance when a sudden commotion drew his eyes skyward.

Up top, there was an elaborate lighting system, as well as a very plain-looking, but large, platform hovering in the center. From this distance, Popo could barely make out the numerous Miis swarming around the lights and the platform in either a safety harness attached to the ceiling, or a rocket propulsion device strapped to their back. Just above the platform, constantly twitching his attention between all of the Miis, was a giant left-handed glove. The glove then started pointing rapidly in different directions, shouting several orders in his distorted voice. In response, the jetpack-equipped Miis took up an intricate formation and started to address some issue with the lights.

Popo really hoped Crazy Hand wouldn't interfere with things today…

Eyes falling back towards the side door, his face broke out in a wide grin when he spotted Nana coming into the lights of the arena. He began waving in earnest to get her attention when another woman stepped out slightly behind her. She was clad in a strangely plain dress of pink, but the warm, yet regal presence could be felt from a mile away; it was Princess Peach, and he felt his heart drop the second he'd recognized her.

He immediately stopped waving and sat back down, face flushed with embarrassment. Not that he was acting any differently than normal, but Peach was not the easiest person for them to talk to in the past. She was nice and generous outside of the fights—a stark contrast to the startling intensity she displayed during matches—but she was also nosy, with her finger on the pulse of all the gossip circulating around their odd little community. During their first—hers as well—time in this universe, they had a series of perfectly amicable conversations when Nana and he first started to come out of their shells. However, the climbers soon caught a certain look in her eyes. She was still incredibly cordial, but suddenly they felt like they were a puzzle piece; something to be examined and dissected, before being slotted into place. It was…incredibly unnerving.

It was only a little worse in the second gathering. It would have been a lot worse, in hindsight, if it wasn't for the presence of Snake. Peach seemed pretty focused on getting the mercenary and Samus to hang out a lot, but she always seemed to keep the Ice Climbers in the back of her mind—especially once they'd stopped the rumors that they were family. Nana mentioned a tea party that she was invited to once, which quickly turned into what she called 'The World's Most Casual Interrogation'. They had avoided her for the rest of the season when they could, save for the occasional match they shared, and the odd, coincidental crossing of paths. Honestly, if it weren't for Ness, Lucas, and Toon Link, they would have gone insane from staying in their room just to avoid one Smasher.

And here she was, walking right behind Nana, with that gleam no doubt in her eye once again. Maybe she would simply sit elsewhere. Yeah, that's it. She was just following a deeply-blushing Nana and would walk right past—nope, she'd just placed her hand upon Nana's shoulder, steering her towards his position. Panicking, Popo quickly assumed the most casual reclining pose he could manage, while fighting the urge to tug his hood down over his face.

"Ah, Nana, there you are. Mornin', Peach!" He threw out a languid salute before turning his attention to another one of Wario's attempts at making an entrance, as the music had just started when Popo spoke. He was doing everything in his power to avoid a lengthy conversation with the princess, as well as get a hang of what to do when their turn came up.

It only took about two seconds to see his plans fizzle before his eyes, when Peach took up the seat directly to his right, with Nana seated at her right. He didn't bother to suppress the small frown creasing his brow while he watched Wario fall from his bike; the slob attempted to steer too closely around a corner of the ring, and whacked his head on the metal ring post. After a moment of simply laying there, Wario stood back up and tottered back to the entrance, signaling for the music to stop.

Popo couldn't stop a sudden bout of fidgeting. Back home, such a seating arrangement was often used when they were really in trouble. An odd form of separation, despite them still being in the same room, was often employed to keep them from looking to one another and gauging reactions when one was explaining their part of an incident. While he would much rather face her with a united front, he also had to remember that Peach was not a bad person; she probably didn't even realize how it affected them.

"Why, good morning, Popo!" Peach exclaimed, giving the mountaineers each a pat on the head. "It's so good to see you two coming back after your…involuntary sabbatical. I'm so sorry about what happened. Are you two doing okay?"

Popo hesitated for a moment, mostly to see if Nana was going to speak first; he always forgot just how much of their communication relied on non-verbal cues.

"Oh, we're a lot better now—especially now that we've been invited back. A lot's changed since we were last here, so it's gonna feel like a whole new adventure." He smiled. "We're looking forward to reconnecting with friends and fighting all the folks we missed out on last season."

Nana spoke up then. "Yeah, though I think we'd be happy just to be away from our home village for a bit. Things were getting a little too stifling before the invite came through." She giggled softly, and he could see her hands reach out to rest on the barricade in front of their front-row seats. The music struck up again and Wario came out onto the stage, ready for another run.

Peach's hand settled firmly upon Popo's shoulder, once again distracting him from watching the proceedings. He started to formulate the most polite way to tell Peach he really wanted to just watch the action, when she spoke in a low, sly tone.

"So…it's 'partners' now, huh…?"

All he could do was groan loudly, slumping forward and pulling his hood down over his face with both hands. Popo was not, one bit, embarrassed by his and Nana's relationship; it was the apparent obsession some parties seemed to have with it that had him so bothered. He only hoped Nana understood his reaction, else he'd be on the sofa for a while.

Wario's sudden shout brought Popo's attention back from his musings, and he lifted his hood in time to see the rotund man expertly navigating his bike around the outside of the ring. Impassively, he watched the bike successfully round the corners not once, not twice, but thrice before he dismounted from the vehicle and into the direct center of the ring, flashing his three-fingered version of the popular victory sign to the empty arena.

"HOT DAMN," Wario Bellowed, his cavernous maw stretching into a toothy grin. "Finally got it!"

Despite his mood, Popo applauded out of respect for the feat. As Wario picked up his motorcycle and headed back towards the entrance for another go, the climber turned to face Peach. The only part of Nana that he could see was one hand tightly gripping the soft material of the barricade's padding. He took a series of deep breaths as he tried to formulate a diplomatic response, still wanting to remain friendly with the princess. It wouldn't do to have some sort of off-field tension where it wasn't warranted.

"AW, LEAVE THEM KIDS ALONE, PEACHY!" A woman's voice Popo couldn't identify called out from the side-entrance, loud enough to distract even Wario; the man hit the side of the ring straight-on with his motorbike, causing him to flip over the handlebars and collapse in a heap. He scowled at the brunette who had just stepped into view, but said nothing while he picked up his ride and went backstage again.

Peach sighed wistfully, waving the woman over. "Don't worry; I'm just having some fun with you two. Think of this like… Oh, I don't know, confirming that I don't have to worry about setting you up anymore." She then added in a low, conspiratorial tone, "I do wish to know how you two came to terms, though." She winked then, as the other woman came around and sat in the row directly behind them.

She wore an equally plain dress of yellow, cut and styled similarly to Peach's garb. She looked to be…maybe slightly shorter than the blonde, but that could easily be due to posture. But there was no mistaking the cheery, playful energy she exuded. She had a friendly, toothy grin across her rounder face, blue eyes practically sparkling as she stuck out both hands, one towards each climber.

"Hey guys, my name's Daisy! Pleased to meetcha!"

After receiving a handshake from both, Daisy immediately rounded on Nana. "I'm so sorry for the way Peach cornered you in the locker room like that. If I didn't get my head stuck putting on this dang dress, I woulda been able to bail you out!"

"I did not corner Nana." Peach took on a haughty, slightly wounded tone, one hand resting daintily upon her chest. "I simply wanted to know how she'd been while these two were on hiatus."

Daisy pinched the bridge of her nose, and shook her head. "You said 'Hello' and immediately followed up with, and I quote, 'How are you and your boyfriend getting along?'" She sighed, before quickly adding, "Don't say Nana could have just left, either; she was only half-dressed!"

Peach's rebuttal was cut short, when a loud buzzer suddenly went off. After the noise ceased, Pat floated out from the side entrance and shouted with an electronically-amplified voice.

"TIME'S UP, WARIO; CLEAR THE RING AND LET THE NEXT ONES GET THEIR TURN."

Wario nodded, exiting the ring after a final successful attempt. He then hoisted the motorcycle over his head, set it on the other side of the barrier, and leaped into a nearby seat to presumably catch a nap.

"I believe that's our cue," Peach stated, standing with a languid stretch. Popo was a bit surprised to see Daisy standing as well, but maybe one was there for the other's support? It didn't really matter, ultimately; the second Peach's back was turned towards them, Popo immediately scrambled into the seat next to Nana and drew her in for a hug.


Nana didn't want to move. Her legs felt like rubber, her face hurt, and worst of all, they were back outside in the midday heat.

Limbs splayed out, they lay beside one another in the shade provided by a copse of trees in a small park. At the onset, Nana was absolutely confident they would be able to manage a simple walk home. Theyd only made it about a third of the way, though, before their bodies started to give out, and Nana made the executive decision to take a break. An hour later, they still couldn't rally enough energy to sit up, let alone walk.

"Nana, if I don't make it, I give you permission to eat my corpse. Live, and carry on our legacy." Popo placed the back of one hand on his forehead, and was gesturing dramatically with the other. "Well, maybe not carry on the legacy; I don't think my spirit would like to see you move on."

"Oh, ha ha—ow," Nana winced, the smile blossoming across her lips causing her face to sting. "I distinctly remember promising that I would either forever grieve as a widow, spending no less than six hours a day staring off towards the peak where you'd perished, or ensure we would be found frozen together, forever reminding future generations of our eternal bond." She paused for a moment, before adding, "I still haven't decided if the second option should include a saucy final pose from us."

"Nah, that's a strictly back-home situation. There will probably never be a situation where we actually freeze here. As it is, you have about three hours to figure it out, before the sun bakes me into a husk of Popo-jerky." A drawn-out, pained grunt followed his response; Popo must have been pushing himself into a seated position. Nana couldn't quite muster the strength to turn her head to face him. "Why the hell didn't they turn on the Refresher Fields for this?"

A good question, as the Refresher Field was an important staple in this tournament. An invisible barrier that surrounded the fighting stages, its purpose was exactly what the name implied; when a fighter was sent through it, two things happened. First, any injury sustained in battle would be immediately healed. It even cleaned off some of the sweat built up on skin, hair, clothing, et cetera, but never could ease the smell. Secondly, the fighter in question would be teleported to a small staging area featuring several waiting platforms, which would deliver them back into the fray.

The fields would have been incredibly useful, Nana reckoned, as she recalled the series of face-plants and other spills they'd taken during their rehearsal. Popo's worst trip came just as they were running up towards the ring, when he'd slipped and slammed his forehead right into the edge of the ring apron. Nana's worst occurred during an attempt to jump over the top rope from the ground, her foot hooking around it and spinning her body to land face-first onto the canvas inside the ring. There were other pratfalls, scattered throughout the rehearsal sessions (they got back in line after their allotted time; the lack of Smashers showing up saw them practicing again an hour later), but those two were the worst of the bunch. On the bright side, they got a good feel for how their entrance was going to work.

"Honestly, I have no idea," She finally said. "Maybe it's being worked on. Either that, or they want us to learn by avoiding pain." She let out a moan as she sat up, shaking her head. "Wish granted, if it's the second one." She lowered herself back down, careful not to jostle her noggin any more than she had to. "The worst part about this is that we shouldn't be so worn out. All we did was run, jump, and pose; we do that all the time!"

"Yeah, but we did it repeatedly, Nana," Popo retorted, one hand easing into her field of vision to hold up a finger. "For like, an hour altogether. Yes, we had time to rest between, but it was still the most intense exercise than we've done since…" He trailed off with a sigh. "Since we started training the first Guardians…"

"Popo…" She began, sitting up once more to stare at him.

He waved his hand, now forcing himself to stand up. The act took him about three minutes to complete, and his face reddened when he seemed to realize that. Still, he cleared his throat and extended a hand to help her up. Upon taking it, she found herself hoisted to her feet, but not without considerable effort on Popo's behalf.

"Urgh…If this were a long expedition, we wouldn't be able to make it." He raked the fingers of both hands through already disheveled strands of his hair, growling in frustration the whole time. "Let's be honest, here; we got sad and lazy over the last couple years back home, and we won't be able to fight in our current state. We're…" He sighed with a skyward gaze. "We're gonna have to start training again, somehow. Try to remember every last bit of exercise we did back home, or in previous tournaments."

Nana looked at the ground for a while after his suggestion, before bringing her gaze back up to meet his. Wordlessly, she bent down to grab her backpack, and put it on. Once she saw Popo do the same, she gently took hold of his hand and led the way back home.

"When you're right, you're right," She said. "I think we should start with some stamina exercises. I have a few in mind we could probably try tonight."

A shocked gasp from Popo made her stop and laugh for nearly two straight minutes.

"Not that, you big doofus! But thanks for the reminder." She suddenly stepped in real close to Popo, leaning in with a smirk. "We need to have a good, long talk about this morning, Mister."

Popo gulped with widened eyes, and Nana spun on her heel to continue the walk back, setting a pace that forced Popo to jog to catch up.

"Nana? Nana, wait! Do we really have to do that? Nana, C'mon!"


Author's Notes: (10/31/2019) Hey folks, here's another chapter for you! I feel like I keep pushing back the chapter where I'll finally debut some combat, but I also feel the need to build things up more. I feel like I'm well on pace to where I want to be, though. There are just so many characters I want to introduce still!

I don't want to ever appear like I'm taking you fine folks for granted, so I will continue to thank you all for giving my story the time of day!