Crumbling Naiveté
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"P-poyo…"
Kirby felt himself swaying on his feet as he stared at the new list. This had to be some sort of sick joke! What was he doing in last place, after his wonderful performance in 1999? Did they really nerf him that badly? After a tournament as a mighty A-tier, he was now regarded as a useless pink puffball.
He'd seen the signs after the first few losses. He tried to brush them aside, assuring himself that he just needed warming up before he'd be his old self again. But he knew. And seeing the confirmation before him simply made everything worse.
Kirby felt a soft touch on his shoulder and turned. It was Luigi, also looking pale, but trying so hard to be strong. He wanted to be there for the puffball because he'd lived through this. The ravenous pack of wolves was sniffing the poor guy down, and someone had to defend him from them. Someone…
"Kirby…" Luigi said softly. "I don't—wow. I'm sorry."
"Poy," said Kirby, not wanting Luigi to be sorry for him. "Poyo, poyo." He'd get through this.
"Kirby, I know that you're determined not to let this get to you, but there are beasts out there. Beasts who want to make you miserable over it."
"Poyo," realized Kirby, remembering that Luigi had endured the same thing.
Luigi nodded gravely. "They did so many things to me, and you helped me through it. It's my turn to help you now."
Kirby slowly smiled. "Poyo," he said in thanks, puffing himself into Luigi's arms.
Luigi hugged him tenderly, wishing to shelter him, to protect him.
"Pichu?"
They broke the embrace to stare at the pre-evolved Pokémon, his eyes huge with concern. He, too, had been placed in the lowest tier and realized, like Luigi before him, that the lower tiers had to stick together.
"Yes, Pichu. Everything's fine," Luigi assured him, the words coming out a bit bluntly. As mentioned before, tensions were building between Luigi and Pikachu over their side-specials. Pikachu had Skull Bash, whereas Luigi had his Green Missile. The electric mouse had accused the plumber of copying him, which the man in green passionately denied. The issue was slowly but surely brewing into a race to prove one side special superior over the other. Pichu, being Pikachu's pre-evolved form, had almost immediately sided with him.
But standing here and seeing how Pichu was trying to look out for Kirby, while Pikachu was barely giving him the time of day, touched Luigi's heart. His face softened, just a little, and his tone was significantly less blunt when he asked, "Can you—will you please help him?"
Pichu nodded eagerly. "Pi!"
"Thanks," said Luigi, a silent understanding forming between them.
"Is everything all right here?" Mario arrived to check on his little bro and saw him holding Kirby. "Wha…" He rushed back to the list and saw where they'd placed the little guy. "Oh."
"He needs us," Luigi said simply. "All of us."
Mario quietly nodded.
"Of course," said Peach.
Douglas looked at his feet, Samus holding his hand in support.
"Fox…" he muttered.
"What? Why the long faces?" asked the vulpine, arm-in-arm with Falco.
"I think you know the answer to that, Fox," said Luigi.
"L…" cautioned Samus. "I think Fox is trying to cheer us up. Aren't you, Fox?"
"Yeah, that's right! The tier list is up, but it's not the end of the world! C'mon, Kirbs, lighten up! We all still like you! We just—wouldn't be caught dead having you as a teammate. But…" he quickly amended, "we'll use the opportunity to make you better!"
"I don't recall you making me such an offer," Luigi said tightly.
"Well—I've changed since then," said Fox. "So how about it, Kirbs? Wanna do us a favor and turn that frown upside down?"
Gasps of disbelief.
"What? Moping won't get him out of the bottom slot! You want my advice, Kirbs? Get over it! Don't ruin the moment for the rest of us, kay?" He sauntered out of the room with Falco, leaving everyone else slack-jawed.
"Don't listen to him, Kirby," said Luigi. "He's just trying to get to you."
"Poyo," whimpered Kirby. The vulpine had succeeded.
Cuddling the puffball, Luigi scoured the area for any sign of Pikachu, hoping he'd get him to end this silly feud for Kirby's sake. But he was nowhere to be found.
Floating nearby, Master Hand observed the scene with a growing sense of dread. It was clear that Fox hadn't learned a thing after two years. And Pikachu—he thought he and Kirby were an item! Why wasn't he giving him a shoulder to lean on? And why was he antagonizing Luigi all of a sudden?
A cold feeling arose in MH's stomach as he floated away to ponder his next move.
There wasn't any social media back then, but there were cell phones and blogs, so word soon spread that Kirby, the proud Star Warrior, was now considered the worst fighter of Super Smash Bros Melee.
As such, his adventures to defend Dreamland from vicious monsters and greedy kings were all but forgotten as the salivating hounds found someone new to project their flaws onto. They either respected Luigi's improvement from the first tournament or just didn't care. They were hungry for new meat. And due to Kirby's naiveté, they were going to enjoy getting to him!
Luigi tried to warn Kirby. He tried to prepare him. But he was unable to prepare him for the sheer hostility waiting for the pink hero that day. The hounds sat eagerly in the stands, waiting for the right moment. Kirby and his opponent were introduced, and the two fighters got ready for battle. As soon as Kirby threw his first punch, the hounds pounced.
"Filthy casual!"
Where that insult came from and who came up with it, nobody knew. The solitary voice shouting the name floated down the spectator area and then lashed into Kirby. He didn't know what a "filthy casual" was, but he knew that it was being directed at him, and it just sounded wrong.
"Filthy casual!" The second voice struck like a venomous viper, throwing off Kirby's fight strategy. The opponent took advantage and punched him hard, sending him flying.
"Filthy casual!" The third voice sliced deep into Kirby, pain registering in his eyes. He tried to will it away so he could concentrate on the foe, to no avail.
Gleefully, the opponent took advantage of Kirby's new flaws, having no qualms about kicking him while he was down. By and by, the voices filled the arena, the words "filthy casual" rising like some sort of sadistic chant, laughter searing into the pink puff like fire. Kirby felt trapped, the words and laughter driving into him like his foe's relentless blows. He saw a few of his friends up there, especially Luigi, trying to urge him on, but it was fighting a losing battle as hostile forces assailed him on all sides.
But what arguable hurt the most was that Pikachu wasn't there. Pichu was cheering him on, but Kirby could really use Pikachu's loving arms right now. He was supposed to be his other half; he was supposed to be there for him when times were rough. But where was he, moping over his side special? There were far more serious matters to deal with!
When the match mercifully ended, the majority of the spectators laughed like hyenas at Kirby's loss, throwing their food at him, booing and jeering. Tiff and Tuff, who'd come from Dreamland to watch the match, wore pitying looks. Luigi glared darkly at the hecklers around him, but it did little good. He watched, pained as Kirby dashed off the stage, hiding his face with his appendages.
Luigi clenched his fists. These guys didn't learn anything—not a thing! Hot with anger, the man in green rose from his seat and marched toward the locker room.
Douglas glanced askance at Fox, casually munching on Cracker Jacks as his eyes ate up the action. He closed his eyes, blind with pain and guilt as the memories of his actions rushed back. He couldn't reach his friend; he didn't know how. He'd just brush him off because he was top tier. Falcon sighed. "I just don't know what to do," he whispered.
Samus wrapped her arms around him. "Don't push it. I'm sure they'll snap out of this for a while." Yet she knew in her heart that she was merely hoping against hope.
In the men's locker room, Luigi found Kirby slumped face-down on a bench, his sobs muffled. Cautiously, the plumber crossed the room and sat down next to him.
"Kirby…" he uttered painfully.
The puffball looked up. "Poyo, p-poyo," he sniffled.
Luigi carefully lifted Kirby and placed him on his lap, soothing him like an infant. "It's all right now, Kirby. It's okay. I'm with you. I'm with you."
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