"Good luck out there, Love."

Popo winked at Nana and quickly closed the front door. Upon hearing the click of the lock engaging, he spun around and slumped against the door, a sigh of relief deflating his posture. Any subsequent breaths he took to compose himself were immediately expelled in nervous laughter as he ran his fingers through his hair.

It took all of his concentration to pull off that kiss with the aplomb he'd managed, and it was so worth it. For once, she was the one with the goofy grin and flushed cheeks! The desire to keep that look on Nana's face was so powerful that, for a split-second, he'd considered pulling her back inside to keep her all to himself. And based on her mounting worries over the past few days, she might have let him do just that.

Which was why he'd forced himself to close the door and let her go. She needed to be out and about without him more often. Well, that and there was no way he could have kept his facade going for much longer.

Loud metallic ringing snapped Popo out of his thoughts and he scrambled over to the window, yanking aside the curtain. For a good minute, he scanned the street for any signs of disturbance. Finding none, he craned his neck to look over at the domiciles flanking the cabin. Apart from a brief glimpse of Bowser through one of his castle's windows (were those bars always there?), huffing and puffing as though he'd just run a marathon, nothing seemed amiss.

Popo let a few more uneventful minutes pass before he shrugged and headed for the kitchen. With a practiced hand, he efficiently washed Nana's tableware and the pans he'd used before organizing everything on the drying rack. Once that was done, he thoroughly wiped down the table before heading for the bedroom. He deftly stepped around the clothing strewn about Nana's wardrobe and, after taking a quick detour to grab the still slightly damp towel off of the bed, grabbed both of their mallets off of their display racks. Once the towel was properly deposited in the bathroom hamper, he went back downstairs and leaned their weapons against the wall next to the front door.

There was an hour or so to kill before he actually needed to be anywhere, so he made his way to the couch. Vaulting over the armrest, he landed neatly on his side across the comfortable cushions and grabbed the remote control off of the low table in front of him. With no real idea of what he was in the mood to watch, he powered on the television and started browsing through the channels.

"—father was a piano virtuoso." "Pianist." "...Okay, he may have been a dick, but still—he was a piano virtuoso."

"—wanted to correct the mistake I made earlier: implying Gene Simmons was a musician."

"—his own mother with a broken lawn chair!" "I…love mother!"

"Whatever. Just fill the hole, hole-filler!"

"—this juice is bangin' yo." "It's paint—"

"Arcanite Reaper, HOOOO!"

"Born seven six forty seven in Bowie, Arizona. Of Indian-German descent; that's a hell of a combination."

"MEN: Shave and get drunk, 'cause you're already brilliant!"

Sighing, Popo's head lolled back and he stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. Through his time spent with Ness, he was all too aware of the problems with daytime television programming, but there had to be something for Popo to latch onto for a bit before he had to leave. With a determined grumble, he leveled his gaze at the large screen and resumed flipping through channels.

"—yes, obviously, hobos have to ride trains. If they're not riding trains, they are bums."

"Standards and practices are a vital link in keeping good and funny ideas away from you, the television view—"

"Watching a vegetarian being told she just ate chicken" "Or watching a frat boy realize just what he put his—"

"—philia: the last refuge of the unloved. I guess we know why they call her Moaning Myrtle."

"Stamp is just JRPG Paw Patrol."

"YES, WE ARE! TADA'IMA SANJOU! UCHUU-ICHI NO ERIITO SENSHI—"

"That's right—I'll teach you to be happy! I'll teach your grandmother to suck eggs!"

"—you could teach a child at that age instead of writing in cursive." "Yeah, like tolerance."

"—come back to our marathon of 'The Shy Newcomer', on Duro-TV!"

Popo's thumb hovered over the button and he frowned thoughtfully. Fleeting glimpses of this show had often flashed across the screen at one time of day or another, and overhearing guests and other Smashers occasionally talk about it had piqued his interest. Unfortunately, with Nana usually in charge of the channel-changer, he never had a chance to see what it was all about.

Time to finally find out.

"Oh come on, Claire," Popo groused, clutching one of the couch's decorative throw pillows tightly against his chest. "Gray's obviously not into you, and can't you see how you were the only one to get Cliff to open up!? Sila, how can someone be so oblivious..."

With a sigh, Popo pressed the 'Status' button to bring up the television's clock. Ten-thirty-eight; damn, he was going to be late if he didn't hurry! After turning the television off, he hopped to his feet and placed the remote back onto the table before dashing over to the entryway. With a quick pat to make sure his currency and meal cards were still in his pocket, he grabbed the mallets and opened the door.

A searing blast of scorching air greeted him like a wall as he stepped outside, filling his lungs and opening his pores. As the door closed behind him, he straightened his posture and blinked against the sun. The blasted thing wasn't even at the height of its power and it was still hot out. But he needed to endure the day; it was only going to be hotter over the coming months, and nearly all of the simulated environments in their matches were much warmer than what they were used to.

Resting one mallet on each shoulder, Popo strode to the sidewalk and took in the sights of the Residential District. The air shimmered off of the street's surface, lending a distorted appearance to the buildings further away from where he stood. A light breeze blew across him, providing very little comfort.

He sighed. This was going to be a long summer.

"Hey! You okay, little man?"

Popo flinched, snapping out of his reverie. Across the street was the ridiculous sight of Captain Falcon balancing gracefully atop a step-ladder next to the Blue Falcon, a sudsy sponge in one hand and a green hose in the other. If only that was the limit of the ridiculousness, Popo thought, as he just barely stopped himself from making a face at the man's attire of his trademark helmet, friendly smile, and tiny frayed denim shorts.

With great effort, Popo kept his gaze on the white triangular "eyes" on Falcon's visor and managed something between a smile and a grimace while he crossed the street. "I'm alright, just uh," he twisted his lips slightly, fishing for an answer. "Just surviving. What's with...all this?"

Falcon's teeth flashed in a grin tailor-made for advertisement posters. "Ol' Blue Falcon here needs her bath! A good wash and wax is a good way for me to relax and focus," he briefly raised his hands to flank his face for emphasis. "Plus the ladies always appreciate a clean ride!"

Before he could prevent it, Popo's eyebrow raised and he looked up and down the street. "I don't think many of them are here to appreciate it."

Boisterous laughter escaped Falcon, one eye-triangle briefly darkening in a wink. "Shoulda guessed they went out for the day; why else would Bowser be cowering up in his castle?"

"OH, SHUT UP," Bowser boomed from across the street. Both Popo and Falcon turned to the castle in question, atop which Bowser sat surrounded by a palisade, with a book in one hand and a tiny teacup pinched between his thumb and index claws. "Do you have any idea how much bile someone Rosalina's size can hold!? I had to get the entire rug replaced last time!"

"Don't be such a baby," Falcon chided, unable to keep the laughter from his voice. "You'll notice it only happened one time. She's learned her lesson."

"Don't care!"

As much as the impromptu shouting match amused him, Popo had to keep moving. He was definitely late now. Muttering a quiet good-bye, he left the racer and the Koopa King to their argument and continued on his way. If the activity inside and outside of the various residences was anything to go by, it looked like many Smashers were sticking to the Housing District today. The pool was likely going to be a popular place for the coming months, though Popo was probably going to spend an equal amount of time sitting in front of a vent with the air conditioning blasting in his face.

Minutes later, he was on the next street over and approaching Snake's cabin. Snake himself was leaning against the stone and metal section of the home, looking bored as he puffed on a cigarette. Upon noticing Popo's approach, he took the cigarette out of his mouth and flicked the ashes off before dropping it into the black cylindrical case he'd pulled out of a pocket.

"So you finally decided to show up," Snake said in his gravelly voice, smirking slightly.

Popo smiled sheepishly and set one mallet down to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, sorry about that. Got into a television show and let it slow me down."

With a dismissive wave, Snake chuckled. "Hey, don't worry about it. The first thing they taught me was 'Hurry Up And Wait'—and I've kept people waiting for longer than a few minutes." He turned and pressed his palm to the reader next to the large metal door, which rolled up to reveal a spacious workshop. "Anyway, you're lucky I'd thought to bring my woodworking stuff—none of my weapons have that kind of furniture these days."

Nodding, Popo stepped inside and set the mallets down next to the closing door. Familiar scents of metal and oil filled his nostrils, instantly reminding him of his frequent visits to the craftsman's shop back home. The only difference between that shop and this room was the equal devotion to the tools and weapons on display. While he instantly recognized the weapons used against him and the other Smashers, most of the other implements hanging from the pegboards were largely foreign to him.

At least their designs were foreign to him; their collective purpose, however, was crystal clear.

"Wanna shoot one? The training facility's got a range."

Popo shook his head, turning towards Snake. The soldier was plugging a cord into a small rectangular device with a gray circle under its tiny screen. When he pressed his thumb into the bottom of the circle, loud music filled the room. Snake's face twisted in a sympathetic grimace when Popo flinched and he turned a knob to lower the volume.

"No, no," Popo replied as he stepped away from the display. "Think I'll stick to the stuff that shows up in matches."

"Could make you better with those things," Snake said with a shrug, but he didn't push the issue any further. He instead pointed to a corner of the workshop, near the door they came in through. "So I have you set up at that workbench over there. Check to see if you've got everything you need there; I'm running to the department store, so if anything's missing I can grab it for you."

Humming thoughtfully, Popo sat on the stool in front of the workbench. After adjusting the height, he checked over the neatly organized tools on its surface as well as the pegboard behind it. The hammer, hand saw, and chisel set mounted on the wall would probably not be needed to refinish the mallets he'd brought, but they could be important for any future projects he might want to do. To his left was a rack with several rolls of sandpaper mounted on a metal dowel, as well as a box full of numerous sanding blocks. Along the back of the workbench, in the corner where it met the wall, were containers for stripping solvents, staining compounds, varnishes, and waxes. The right edge of the bench was dominated by an old and heavy vise.

"I should have everything I need," Popo finally said as he worked the crank to open the vise. "I need to make sure this thing can hold a mallet though. Could you hand me mine?"

Snake nodded once and reached for the closest mallet.

"Nuh-uh, not that one."

Popo snorted when Snake raised his eyebrow and pulled his back head ever so slightly. His fingers paused just short of touching the haft of Nana's mallet and he studied both weapons critically before turning an incredulous gaze toward Popo.

"I don't know how you can tell these things apart from where you're sitting, but I can't—agh, Jesus—" Snake grunted as he lifted the correct mallet with a surprised grimace. "What the hell do they feed you over there!?"

"Oh, nothing special," Popo replied as he easily took the offered mallet by the head and casually flipped it in the air to catch it deftly by the haft. "Just fish and vegetables for the most part." Snake's eyes narrowed and Popo hid his amusement by busying himself with the vise. A few seconds later, he stepped back to admire his handiwork—that mallet wasn't going anywhere. "Alright, looks like everything's set! Thanks again for letting me use your workspace here."

"Hey, no problem," Snake said, reaching for Nana's mallet. "Here, I'll bring the other one for you—"

In an instant, Popo crossed the room and scooped up the mallet. "Nope, that's quite alright! See, I got it right here."

Grunting indignantly, Snake folded his arms over his chest. "Don't know what's got you so worked up; I couldn't break that thing if I tried."

"No, I—sorry," Popo sighed, cradling the mallet protectively by the head. "It's not mine to let others handle." He shifted the head to his left arm with the haft resting upon his shoulder and pointed to a few spots on the haft with his free hand. "These are right-handed grips she's worn into the handle over the years, and while I doubt you can mess them up, I don't want to risk it."

The soldier's expression softened in understanding as he slowly nodded. "I see now, and those disruptions in the grain are how you can tell the hammers apart."

"One way, yeah. I've tried to maintain mine for both hands, but I also have a few worn-in grips for the right." Popo set Nana's mallet beside the workbench and pointed to several different spots on the haft of his own implement. He then sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I would have gotten these refinished before coming here, but we weren't exactly given a lot of time to accept our invite."

Snake's lip twisted slightly. "Sounds like the same issue the other cut Smashers had. That reminds me—we'll need to round them up sometime soon and have ourselves a sit-down."

"I was going to ask Nana to bring it up with Leaf today, but she already had enough on her mind going into today."

"That explains the bus I saw patrolling the neighborhood." Snake moved to the door and placed a cigarette between his lips. "Anyway, I shouldn't be more than an hour—if I see any of the others, I'll pass the idea on."

With a grunt, he lifted the rollup door and stepped through. "Try not to lose any fingers," He said with a smirk and let the door close behind him.

Snorting, Popo rolled his eyes before cracking his knuckles. Time to get to work.

With the flat end of one of the smaller chisels, he popped the lids off of the cans of wood stripper and varnish, setting the latter off to the side. Once he'd tested the stripper's efficiency at the very end of the haft, he carefully applied and distributed the solvent to the rest of the mallet with a paintbrush he'd found in one of the workbench's drawers. He let out a low whistle at how quickly the solvent worked; only a few minutes had passed and already the wax and finish were beginning to fade and separate from the haft. By the time he'd finished sanding off the haft's finish, the head of the mallet showed similar signs and he moved on to meticulously sand that as well.

After making sure the old finish was completely removed, Popo used the small bit of haft that protruded past the head to balance the mallet on the workbench and pulled over the can of varnish. With a deep breath to steady his hand, he used another paintbrush to carefully apply a thin coat of varnish from head to handle while slowly spinning the mallet on its balancing point. Once the first coat was applied, he thoroughly went over the weapon with a scrap of sandpaper and a damp cloth to buff out imperfections and wipe away any excess varnish.

The process was repeated three more times before he hopped off of the stool and stepped back to admire his work. The varnish did a wonderful job of making the grain of the wood stand out more, providing a striking contrast between the finish and the exposed wood of the head and haft (he'll have to apply a protective wax to those areas once the varnish dried).

He frowned at the spot where, after completely missing the varnish can, he'd stuck the paintbrush between the third and fourth coats. Even with the other scrapes and faded stains on its surface, Snake probably wouldn't appreciate such a mark on his workbench, so Popo took a few minutes to clean the spot with some paper towels before stretching his limbs and yawning mightily.

Why was he so tired all of a sudden? He was just fine a bit ago...

Shaking his head to clear out the brain fog, he carefully set his mallet on a drying rack and mounted Nana's mallet onto the vise. A few moments passed while he sat there blinking at the thing before he reached for the varnish. Wait, no—he needed the stripping solvent first. Pulling the proper can towards him, he went about slowly removing the old finish. In retrospect, he should have started with Nana's mallet first, as he always took so much longer to repair hers.

Another yawn escaped him as he reached for the can of varnish. For a few seconds, he stood there leaning on the workbench with his eyes squeezed shut. When he opened them, the mallet in the vise briefly split into two before swirling back into a singular image. With a frustrated grumble, he sat down on the stool and folded his arms. Maybe he just needed a break...

Just before his eyes closed for a nap, the loud click of a disengaging lock pulled his attention to the rising door beside him. Heralded by a gust of fresh air, Snake stepped in and immediately recoiled as though he were punched in the face. The end of his cigarette flared an intensely bright orange as he rapidly waved his hand in front of his face.

"Whew, smells awful in here," he complained, immediately flicking the cigarette out onto his lawn. "Knew I forgot something." In a blur of motion, he darted about the workshop to hurriedly throw windows open and flip a few switches. Popo dimly registered the whirring of hidden fans as Snake turned to him with a knowing smile. "You sure you've done this before, kid?"

Popo grunted indignantly. "Sure, several times. All I gotta do is strip, sand, varnish, buff, varnish, buff, varnish...wax? Uh...sand...buff, buff...buff..."

Snake's smile instantly vanished as he put an arm around Popo's shoulders and guided him toward the door. "Let's get you out of these fumes for a bit..."

Pride—or maybe a hunger pang—welled up in Popo's chest as he stepped back from the bedroom wall. The refinished mallets practically gleamed in their racks! With at least a day and a half for everything to properly cure, these things will definitely be ready for even an early morning match on Monday. Sparing one more glance at his handiwork, Popo left the bedroom and made his way to the kitchen. With luck, he'd have time to whip up a little snack before the others showed up.

His head was deep in the ice box when a series of knocks and bangs, toeing the line between intricate and erratic, suddenly landed on the front door. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his head where he'd bumped it on the shelf above before withdrawing and heading for the foyer.

"POPO," Ness called from outside. "Popo, I can sense yooouuu!" There was a brief pause as someone else snickered before another drum solo was pounded out onto the door. Popo couldn't help a laugh of his own as he rolled his eyes and pulled the door open.

On the porch stood Ness, his fist still flailing at where the door would still be if Popo hadn't interrupted the performance. Behind and off to the side was Lucas, who simply had a hand over his eyes while laughing quietly. On the other side was a grinning Link, who stood out with a blue, long-sleeved tunic that featured a white lobster on the front.

"Isn't it a bit hot out for long sleeves," Popo asked the wide-eyed sailor, who shrugged.

"It's not as uncomfortably warm as my fighting gear," Link replied with a laugh. "Also, before you ask, the other Link's hanging out with Sheik. Again." He sighed. "You'd think they'd realize Ganondorf knows better than to try anything, but I guess I can't blame them for watching the guy."

Adjusting his cap, Ness cleared his throat. "Yeah, I won't hold it against him; those three got a lotta history, and growing up don't always mean you'll bury the hatchet. So you gonna let us in or something, or are we all gonna stand out here and watch Captain Cutoffs over there wash his car?"

"DON'T BE JEALOUS OF THE BOD," Captain Falcon jeered from across the street as he straddled the top of the Blue Falcon with a chamois. "REMEMBER, I CAN ALWAYS SEND A FEW LADIES YOUR WAY WHILE THEY WAIT—"

"Y-yeah, come on in," Popo shuddered and stood aside. Once everyone was inside, he quickly flung the door closed and followed everyone to the living room. "So whaddya all wanna do today?"

"Dunno, didn't think that far ahead." Ness threw himself onto one of the armchairs and stretched out. "Worst-case scenario, being bored as a group is better than solo, and boy are you solo today."

Lucas rolled his eyes just before Popo did the same. "Ah, leave him be. He's not so helpless as to mope around all day." A grin spread across the blond psychic's face. "Besides, you're always calling—"

"Not my point!" Ness waved his hand dismissively. "Save the gang-ups for a match or something, why don't you?" He suddenly rounded on Link and jabbed out an accusatory finger. "And not a word out of you, either; you're wearing a direct line to your girl around your dang neck!"

For a moment, Link's jaw hung open before he donned a sheepish smile. "What can I say? A Pirate's Charm from a charming pirate." To illustrate his point, he tugged the collar of his shirt out with one hand and used the other to fish out a cord tied around a blue crystal. It flashed in the window's light for a moment before he let it fall back down the front of his shirt.

"You gotta admit," Lucas mumbled. "You had it coming, bringing it up when we've only been here...what, three minutes?"

Ness broke up the ensuing silence with a drawn-out sigh that terminated in a loose-lipped raspberry. "You know what? Fair." He raised his leg and brought the heel down on the edge of the table, flipping the remote control through the air and into his outstretched hand. "Let's watch a little TV and then get a bite."

Link and Lucas nodded, the former nodding with appreciative applause. Ness did a little bow from where he sat and powered on the television.

Some hours later, after grabbing a late lunch at the local eatery, they were heading back towards Popo's place. Ness was leading the pack, walking backward while he spoke.

"And so I says to the guy, 'that's not my iguana!'"

A chorus of groans rang out at Ness's punchline. Lucas, clutching his middle, leaned forward and bulged his eyes out.

"Ugh," he grunted. "That one really hurts. Have you been working on a new PSI move or something?"

Ness rolled his eyes. "Man, if that joke did damage, wait 'til you hear Jeff's 'hydroxyl ion' joke. That one's so unfunny, it hits you right here." Using his index finger, he drew an X between his eyes.

"I don't even get half your jokes," Link said around a mouthful of fries.

"That's 'cause I forget to talk slow half the time," Ness replied, neatly catching the ketchup packet Link flung at him before turning to Popo. "So what about you? I bet you're kicking yourself for ignoring my advice; what did I say about putting ice in your drink?"

Popo grimaced after taking a sip of his vaguely lemon-flavored water. "That it waters down the flavor," he recited in monotonous deadpan.

"That's right," Ness affected a smug expression and folded his arms. "You all need to be better about taking my advice; I'm an elder statesman from the Original Twelve, after all."

"'Elder statesman'," Popo repeated sarcastically. "You're only...what, a year and a half older than me!"

"And as your elder," Ness continued as though Popo hadn't spoken. "It's up to me to mentor you in all aspects of life."

Lucas was trying, and failing horribly, to stifle laughter as he spoke. "Where's this coming from, all of a sudden? You haven't given anyone a lick of advice since we started!"

"I've now realized, as I near my twilight years, that the best time to start shepherding my flock was...oh, about seven years ago. The second best time is now."

With another sip of his drink, Popo tuned Ness out as his mind and eyes wandered. Clouds had finally made their presence known, off in the distance, but would be far too late to be of any use by the time they were overhead. At least they'll help craft a pretty sunset. Ambient birdsong filled the air around them, drawing his attention toward the dense forest that surrounded the Residential District. He couldn't identify any of their calls or answers, other than they thankfully weren't the Nitpickers from back home.

His eyes were casually sweeping over the tree line when he spotted it. Emanating from within the branches of one of the trees was a tiny glint of reflected sunlight. Curiously, he stared at it and wondered how something like that could end up in a tree. Maybe a bird found a piece of glass and brought it to its nest? No, that didn't make sense; worker Miis diligently kept the streets in pristine condition and littering was strictly prohibited. Perhaps a surveillance camera was installed out there. Now that made sense; it wasn't exactly a secret to both Smashers and guests that this area was heavily monitored. Though that apparently never stopped the latter group from trying to catch more glimpses of their favorite champions.

As logical as it was, though, Popo wasn't quite satisfied with that conclusion. Something about this demanded further investigation...

"POPO," Ness suddenly shouted, loudly clapping his hands next to Popo's ear. "Ground control to Major Popo!"

Snapping out of his reverie, Popo whirled around to face Ness, who looked far less annoyed than his yelling implied.

"God, it's like herding cats between you and Lucas," the psychic complained, spreading his arms wide. "You two, always with your heads in the clouds. Anyway, I was trying to get you to weigh on ideas for tonight." He clapped his hands together—this time at a much more reasonable volume—and rubbed his palms together. "Figured we could grab a few pizzas, but I need input from you other guys so we're doing more than just eating pizza. So gimme ideas."

"I dunno," Popo mused with a wry smile. "I could eat a lot of pizza..."

Ness gave a flat look as he mimicked the sound of a buzzer. "Nope, too boring." His arm was a blur as he pointed to Link, who stood to Popo's left. "You're up, Pirate Man."

"Putting me on the spot like that..." Link muttered before speaking at a conversational volume. "I dunno, play cards or games? We always had a room full of stuff like that on the ship for long cruises..."

"Hmm, better, closer, warmer..." Ness nodded before narrowing his eyes. "But not quite there." The finger shifted further left and aimed straight at Lucas. "You're our last hope, Luke; better put out a good suggestion."

"Yeah, I got one," Lucas immediately replied with folded arms. "With all your talk about mentoring, how 'bout some practice matches at the training place?"

One black eyebrow arched over an ice-blue eye as Ness pursed his lips thoughtfully. "The young upstart wishes to challenge the old lion, eh..." Rolling his eyes upwards, he hummed for a second. "Yeah, we could kill a few hours rearranging each others' faces. But juuust in case you get tired of losing, let's get a few backup plans set." With a grin, he turned toward Popo once again. "Alright, back to..." The grin faltered as he started to level his pointing hand. The hand raised, lowered, then raised again as stunned surprise registered on his face.

"...You," he finally said, slowly pointing to the right of an increasingly confused Popo.

"Mm," an unfamiliar voice grunted.

Startled, Popo whipped his head towards the new voice and found twin reflections gaping back at him. Blinking slowly, he leaned back and realized he was staring into a pair of mirrored silver sunglasses perched beneath messy brown hair similar to his own. Pulling back further revealed a T-shirt of cyan that faded to white around the middle with a similar fade at the end of its sleeves. The guy wearing these things blankly stared back for a few seconds before he turned to Ness and shrugged slowly.

Ness let out a much put-upon sigh. "Cassidy, how long have you been there?" The new arrival took a breath to respond before Ness held out one hand and pushed up his cap to massage his forehead with the other. "Wait, wait—don't tell me. It'll make me feel like an idiot if you give me too big a number."

Cassidy shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. Several long, silent seconds dragged by before Ness rolled his eyes and pointed toward a large building some walking distance away. "Anyway, if everyone's still eager for a whuppin', get your gear and meet back over yonder!"

To no one's surprise, the Training Facility was largely bereft of Smashers. Even with the powerful air conditioning keeping the place at tolerable temperatures, Popo understood why someone might not want to spend a chunk of their hot weekend exercising. Of course, he realized, he should probably be in the sparring rotation; Ness had been particularly annoying today, and Popo could use a means to put the guy in his place...but Nana wasn't here, and his weapon wasn't ready for handling. So here he was, sitting in the observation room and waiting for Ness and Lucas to start their sparring match.

Link narrowed his wide eyes conspiratorily once Lucas closed the door and leaned towards Popo. "What's got him all fired up all of a sudden?"

Shrugging, Popo shot a quick glance at Cassidy before speaking. The villager was slouched in one of the chairs, seemingly asleep. "I don't know, but he's doing what I'm thinking."

Link snorted as he checked his gear. "Ness is a bit more wound up than usual, but he should calm down after we work him over a bit."

"Was he this nosey last time? He's been acting like Peach, lately."

Frowning thoughtfully, Link unsheathed his sword and casually balanced the flat of the blade over one finger. "He seemed fine...This might need to be something you'll have to ask him directly about."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Popo grumbled. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms as the screen on the wall in front of them flicked on. Line by line, green text appeared on the screen to describe the type of match taking place, the time limit, how many lives were allotted, and how frequently items were supposed to drop.

Once the last detail was finalized, Lucas and Ness appeared on the screen opposite each other. They stood on a plain platform with the standard three smaller platforms above it. The background was a simple grid pattern of black lines crisscrossing over a white field.

As the countdown silently wound down, Popo sighed and got to his feet. "I need to use the restroom," he muttered, shuffling toward the exit of their observation room. "You want me to get you a drink on the way back?"

Link shook his head and waved dismissively before steepling his fingertips. "Nah, I'm fine."

Popo looked to Cassidy just in time to see him preemptively shaking his head at Popo's future offer. Shrugging, Popo opened the door and stepped out.

He stretched and looked up and down the hall. Only a few of the red lights over the rest of the identical doors were lit to indicate occupancy, something that was bound to change as the tournament season progressed. Whether it was a friendly sparring session or something to improve strategies, it couldn't hurt to devote time to training. It was likely why they were given so much free time in the first place.

A set of sliding glass doors hissed open as he retraced his path in search of the restroom. His footsteps took him past a long window through which he spied a room full of workout equipment. At near-opposite ends of the room were Incineroar and Little Mac, working the bench press and heavy bag respectively. For a brief instant, Popo had considered approaching the boxer to strike up a conversation he'd been meaning to have, but his bladder was persistently reminding him about a more pressing matter at hand.

Finally, all the way back near the main entrance, he'd reached his destination. A triumphant sigh echoed throughout the spacious restroom as he relieved himself for what felt like at least a full minute. After he finished up, he thoroughly washed his hands and exited. Little Mac had moved on to a more attention-heavy exercise station by the time Popo made his way back to the weight room, so he saw no reason to bother the guy. He instead turned his attention to a room of identical size across the hall, which was empty save for a mirror covering the entire back wall. One of the Wii Fit Trainers (Popo couldn't remember her actual name) stood in the center of that room and was leading Kirby, Meta Knight, and—oddly enough—King Dedede through a routine of stretches and poses.

Tempting as it was for him to pound on the window, Popo stayed his hand once he saw how hard everyone was concentrating on holding a particularly difficult-looking stretch. He could see Dedede and Kirby concentrating, anyways—Meta Knight's expression was unreadable as he seamlessly transitioned from one position to the next. In stark contrast, the Trainer's expression was broadcasting a message loud and clear when she spotted Popo poised to knock: 'Don't.'

Memories of witnessing her and the other Trainer's matches during the last tournament's broadcasts immediately surfaced to reinforce that message. Perhaps he should return to his group. Yes, he should do just that.

Popo maintained eye contact with the Wii Fit Trainer as he slowly backed away from the window. Once he put a comfortable distance between them, he turned and scurried towards the sliding doors to the practice rooms.

The sigh of relief he let out, once the doors closed behind him, was immediately sucked back in. One of the doors, a few doors down and across from his group's room, was suddenly flung open as Wolf stormed through it. The door handle smacked into the rubber cylinder bolted to the wall (so that's what those were for) with a bang as he stood there, staring up at the ceiling with his arms folded. Even from this far away, Popo could hear the lupine pilot's growls as his lip curled back into a sneer.

Without taking his eyes off Wolf, Popo carefully moved towards his group's door. Fortunately, he was on Wolf's eyepatch side, which should better allow him to move unseen as he reached for the handle and—

"I know you're there."

Ah, damnit.

Long, silent seconds dragged by with Popo's hand hovering over the door handle. Of all the cut Smashers to run into, he had to be the one crossing Wolf's path. Red would have been a much easier conversation, he mused as he let his hand drop. His friends could wait for another few minutes, probably; he didn't exactly specify how he'd needed to hit the restroom, after all. Exhaling heavily through his nostrils, he squared his shoulders and approached Wolf, whose eyebrow raised over his eyepatch.

"Wasn't expecting this," the pilot said in a low voice, turning to face Popo fully. "You've certainly grown some confidence in the years since I last saw ya." Amusement flashed in Wolf's good, red eye. "Though you certainly haven't done much growing up, it seems..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Popo sighed and folded his arms once he stood before Wolf. "I'll get to the point since we've both got places to be; I'm here with friends, and you're here with..." he trailed off and shrugged, rolling his wrist as he fished for an answer. "I dunno, some kind of complex?"

The amusement vanished and Wolf's ears flattened. "You said you had a point; start talking, boy."

Popo's eyes rolled before he had a chance to rein himself in. He supposed he deserved that. "Fine, fine. Listen, Snake's putting out feelers to try and get a meeting between all of us—" he leaned in slightly at that last word. "—so we can talk about whatever the hell happened with the last event."

Apart from a nearly imperceptible spasm of his ears, Wolf's expression remained fixed in place. "He knows something?"

Tilting his head slightly, Popo mulled over his pre-fumes memories of the day. "Sounds like it; he mentioned something about our stories matching up."

Wolf's eye briefly flicked towards the sliding doors before focusing on Popo again. "Story? I never told him anything. Is this some kind of—"

Throwing his hands up, Popo lolled his head back to briefly contemplate the ceiling. "Help me out here, Sila," he muttered before giving Wolf a flat look. "We all heard you complaining about 'two years ago' right before you and Fox started brawling on the floor!"

As he scratched his chin with a thumb, Wolf took on an unreadable expression and stared over Popo's head. "Oh yeah, that was a while ago," he murmured before chuckling softly. "Got a few good shots in there before that Mii ratted us out, didn't I?"

More memories of the incident surfaced, one of which made Popo snort loudly. "You were the one bleeding, not him."

Narrowing his eye, Wolf loomed over Popo. "You'd be surprised how much you can hurt without bleeding, boy. You're lucky I don't feel like demonstrating—" He suddenly pulled away and looked at a point beyond Popo's left shoulder. "Wait, where's your friend hiding?"

Blinking at the change of subject, Popo tracked the pilot's gaze to the door leading to his friends' practice room. "What? Oh, they're all having some practice matches in there and—"

"No, I mean the pink ankle biter."

"You only have one joke, don't you," Popo deadpanned as he turned back to Wolf. "Nana's out with the other women."

Wolf smirked and folded his arms. "Awfully brave to be talking to me like this without backup."

Grinning, Popo clasped his hands behind his back and shrugged. "Not really; we've taken you out by ourselves in the past. At least Nana has."

In the tense silence that followed, it suddenly occurred to Popo that he might have gone just a little too far. He quickly tried to drum up a mental list of ways Wolf could retaliate, and most of them required a mallet he did not have. As slowly as he could, he (hopefully) subtly shifted his feet into a stance more suitable for a scrap. He was about halfway into position when Wolf threw his head back and howled with uproarious laughter.

"Where did all this come from," Wolf finally exclaimed, shaking his head with his hands on his hips. "You went from barely able to string a sentence together at me to shanking my ego out in the yard!" He slowly paced the width of the hallway in front of Popo, still shaking his head. A moment later, he suddenly stopped and rounded on Popo with a look of realization. "Oh ho hooo...I think I know what happened."

Thoroughly confused, Popo tilted his head and squinted while Wolf's nostrils flared to sniff the air. "What are you talking about?"

"I'll tell you when you're older," Wolf smugly replied, wagging a finger. "In the meantime, I'll let Snake know you talked to me. Or you tell him—whoever reaches him first, I guess." Chuckling, he stalked past Popo towards the sliding doors. "Congratulations, by the way."

By the time Popo could process what happened, Wolf was long gone. Although he wish he'd pressed the guy for more details, that wasn't the task Snake had given him. As far as Popo was concerned, he'd done his part.

After taking a moment to compose himself, Popo strode through the door to the practice room.

"You can stop pouting any time, Ness," Lucas said, lacing his fingers behind his head. "At least you got one over on me, and I was the one challenging you in the first place!"

Ness simply ignored Lucas, staring down into a display of refrigerated take-and-bake pizzas. "Four oughta do it," he said absently before making a beckoning motion. "Link—present arms, please."

Snickering, Link stepped forward from beside Popo and held out his arms. Without ceremony, Ness dropped the four pizza boxes into the waiting limbs and moved towards the bottles of soda smartly stocked next to the pizzas. "Maybe he didn't like that I avenged you right after," the Hylian offered, rolling his shoulders with his new burden.

"Matches with you will be a pain," Popo grunted as Ness stomped past, shoving several two-liter bottles into his chest; he just barely had time to grab them and prevent a mess. "Your quick footwork was enough of a problem last time, and now you've got those long monkey arms for reach."

"I'd thought about bulking up like Gonzo, but I think he knew about that plan," the sailor laughed, trotting behind Ness. "He totally told Tetra, and now I'm the one running around on errands whenever we make landfall!"

Popo couldn't help a smirk as he looked to Ness, who held out bags of chips for Cassidy to take. The villager slowly reached for them before he shoved his hands into his pockets. With the world's most neutral expression, Cassidy simply stared at Ness until a grinning Lucas stepped in and took the bags. "Isn't Ness supposed to be fast, too? He's always talking about 'running home' or whatever."

"It has been a while since my last home run," Ness mumbled distractedly while looking at the food and drinks everyone was carrying. "Alright," he clapped his hands and pointed toward the front of the store. "Let's pay for this crap and get it to Popo's."

Lucas took five steps towards the registers before pausing mid-stride to turn back around. "Hey, why aren't you paying for any of this? You lost almost as much as the rest of us!"

"Part of it's my fee for mentor-imparted combat training," Ness sniffed dramatically. "The other part's the cost of admission for that show you put on, whipping me with that Rope Snake like you were Harrison Jones."

"I sure was entertained," Link said with a toothy grin. "Up until you almost yanked my sword outta my hand. Where'd you learn all those tricks, anyway?"

Blushing, Lucas fidgeted under everyone's scrutiny before finally speaking. "Thought I'd try a few techniques from watching those Belmont matches..."

After a moment of staring in incredulity, Ness barked a single laugh. "Hah! You'd studied tape of maybe four matches at most and you're already taking on a whole new style!" With an overtly fake sob, he wiped away an imaginary tear. "The little ones grow up so fast..."

"Yeah, not like Cassidy over there," Link muttered. He nodded at Cassidy, who had continued slowly strolling ahead of the group, and was nearly at the bank of registers by the exit. "How's a guy so slow got such a good record?"

"Beats me," Ness grumbled.

"Yep," Lucas deadpanned, heading toward the registers himself. "He sure did."

Halfheartedly raising his fist, Ness shook his head slightly and grunted something under his breath before he stiffly marched after Lucas. After exchanging a knowing look with Link, Popo followed suit.

A little over an hour later, Popo removed the last pizza from the oven and placed it on the table with the others. The instant the pan touched the table's surface, Ness brandished a round cutter and shouldered his way between Popo and the table.

"It's about dang time," Ness said as he cut each pizza into mostly even slices with a practiced hand.

Rolling his eyes, Popo took plates and cups out of a cabinet and set them near the food. "I was following your instructions, so don't blame me."

Rhythmic humming, in time to rapid nodding, sounded from Ness as he tapped his chin. "Hm-hm-hm-hmm...have you considered not just following my advice and thinking for yourself?" After neatly parrying the hand-towel Popo threw at him in response, he bounded over to the kitchen's exit to yell into the living room. "Slop's on, boys!"

Within seconds, Lucas and Link marched into the kitchen and began selecting slices and pouring sodas. About two minutes later, Cassidy ambled in to do the same. Popo waited until everyone else cleared out before piling a slice from each pizza onto a plate of his own. A mildly frustrated sigh escaped him when, upon grabbing his cup of cola, he realized he could have used his cryomancy to chill his drinks this whole time.

Popo was just outside of the archway to the living room when he heard poorly-stifled laughter, giving him pause. He couldn't hear anything on the television, and even if it was on, there wouldn't have been any reason for them to hold back laughter. Slowly, he approached the archway, carefully checking the corners as he stepped through.

No trap was sprung. Instead, Popo found himself staring at four guys casually sitting on the floor of a completely empty room.

They all stared right back, their faces running the gamut from completely neutral (Cassidy), to barely able to hold back laughter (Link). Ness and Lucas were in the middle of this spectrum, with Ness somehow looking more composed, save for a twitching mouth, and Lucas's shoulders were shaking as he bit his lip.

After a silent minute of looking around the room for the furniture, he calmly set his things on the floor and sprinted away to fling open the front door. Nothing was in the yard, nor was anything strewn on the street when he jogged out to look. Scratching his head, he stalked back inside.

Upon returning to the living room, Popo found himself staring at four guys casually sitting on the couch and in one of the armchairs.

This time, Link, Lucas, and Ness were all struggling to not be the first to lose their composure. Even Cassidy had a ghost of a hint of a smile slightly lifting one corner of his mouth. On the low table, in front of the empty armchair, was Popo's pizza plate and cola. With a deep breath to gather himself, Popo took his seat and ate without saying a word; it was often better for the victim of a prank to not address the situation, no matter how outlandish it was.

And this prank was especially outlandish!

Popo had finished the first slice of plain cheese and was starting to work on a slice of pepperoni when it occurred to him that something was still missing. He slowly scanned his eyes over the walls to figure out what it was and ignored the chorus of snorts and snickers surrounding him.

"Alright," he finally said, placing his plate and cup down on the table and folding his arms. "Where's the television?"

Popo looked to Ness, who immediately looked to the ceiling and started whistling. He looked to Lucas, who covered his sudden smile with a hand and looked to the floor. Finally, he looked to Link, who did his best to keep his eyes locked on Popo's. Raising his eyebrows at the impromptu staring contest, Popo steepled his fingertips and settled in for a long match.

This wasn't going to take long; Link's lips were already twisting with great effort. More importantly, as Popo slowly leaned forward, the Hylian sailor's eyes were constantly twitching ever-so-slightly in a consistent direction before he wrested them back onto Popo's gaze. In fact, it appeared Link was constantly looking over to...

...over to Cassidy.

Without breaking eye contact with Link, Popo leaned back in his chair and heaved an exasperated sigh. "Where'd you put it, Cassidy?"

In the blink of an eye, Link's already weak facade crumbled and he burst into laughter. Ness and Lucas joined him as Popo turned to Cassidy with raised eyebrows. The villager, holding a slice of supreme pizza in his mouth, gave a lazy thumbs up as he got to his feet and shuffled over to a faint rectangle where the television was previously mounted.

Curiously, Popo watched as Cassidy, thoughtfully stroking his chin, stood in front of the wall. Bit by bit, the pizza slice disappeared into the villager's mouth as he stared ahead. Popo's curiosity quickly became impatience when Cassidy shoved a hand into his shorts pocket. The hand rifled through the pocket for a ridiculous amount of time, and as that time dragged on, Popo felt his left eye spasming against its lid.

With some choice words on his tongue, Popo was getting to his feet when Cassidy pulled the television out of his pocket.

Eyes wide, Popo stumbled and fell back onto his armchair and stared in stunned astonishment as Cassidy casually mounted the device onto the wall.

"Don't worry, man," Ness finally managed to say. "Everyone's had their stuff messed with by the Villagers."

Moments later, Link wrangled his laughter under control. "Yeah, one time uh...what's the guy's name again?"

"I think you're thinking of Parker," Lucas supplied.

"Right, Parker," Link said with a snap of his fingers. "Anyway, that crazy guy rearranged my living room seven times one day. Just kept finding new excuses for me to leave the room, and then I'd come back to see everything in a totally new place!"

As hard as Popo fought to maintain his stoicism, Link's anecdote dragged open amusement onto his face. "Looks like I got off easy, then." He turned a grin to Cassidy, who had just finished straightening out the television with his usual exaggerated slowness. "Good one."

With bellies full of pizza and snacks, everyone settled into their seats while Ness tried to find something for everyone to watch. The psychic's thumb was a blur over the channel-changer as he sped through the channels. Thankfully, just as Popo was developing a headache from the rapid-fire images and bursts of sound, Ness finally settled on a movie; a science fiction flick that even Popo could recognize as having a poor budget. Popo couldn't really keep track of whatever the movie's plot was, as everyone (including him) was either making fun of it or chatting with each other.

About halfway through the film, Link's crystal charm thingie lit up. With some sheepish apologies, the sailor took his leave amidst a barrage of jeers from Ness. But Popo would be a hypocrite if he'd blamed Link—he'd been glancing in the direction of the front door several times throughout the movie, anticipating Nana's arrival.

One such glance happened just as the credits began to roll. As Popo's eyes flicked back toward the television, he saw Ness's raised eyebrow and knowing smile floating at the edge of his vision. Popo's fingertips dug into the armrests of his chair as he forced himself to stare resolutely at the television screen. Every few seconds, his eyes would drift towards Ness before he wrested them back to the television. And every time he saw Ness, something had changed about him; Lidded eyes the first time, the other raised eyebrow the second time, crossed legs the third time, propping his chin up with his fist the fourth time.

"Say, Popo...you've been looking at that door an awful lot."

Clenching his jaw, Popo stared at the credits and tried to instead think about what the hell a 'Best Boy' does in making a movie. Ness should be doing the same, but he was far too busy waggling his eyebrows.

He slowly turned to face the psychic and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, so?"

Ness's grinning teeth glinted in the flickering light of the television as a commercial came on. "Just making an observation; we don't get to hang out with just you very often, so it's neat to see how you are when Nana's not around." Lacing his fingers together, he stretched his arms out in front of him. "Must be taking real good care of you, what with how much you've been on the lookout."

After several confused blinks, Popo leaned back slightly. "You're being weird again. And we've always taken care of each other; that's kind of our thing."

There was an expectant look on Ness's face for several long seconds following Popo's words. When nothing further was said, the psychic rolled his eyes and threw up his hands slightly. "That's it? No elaboration? You can't just say something like that and leave out all the details, man."

Confusion further set in as Popo looked to Lucas, then to Cassidy, only to be met with shrugs from both guys (though Cassidy was smiling for some reason) before he turned back to Ness. "I don't even know what you're talking about!"

"Okay, okay," Ness bowed his head slightly and held his hands up, palms out. "You don't gotta tell me everything—but at least tell me what base you've gotten to."

One of Popo's eyes narrowed as he silently mouthed the word 'base'. A look of realization flashed across Ness's face and he looked apologetic as he pressed on. "Sorry about that; I forget that not everyone knows the same sayings."

Before Popo could get a word in, Ness loudly clapped his hands and rubbed the palms together. "Alright, so First Base is when you..."

Perhaps, Popo thought as he channeled a light Blizzard spell over his sore knuckles, he'd acted a little too impulsively.

Oh, sure, in the heat of the moment, Ness had more than that single punch coming; not only was he dancing on thin ice for getting into such a personal subject, but involving Nana was just a step too far! Popo's anger quickly faded upon seeing Ness's shocked expression; profuse apologies while he hastily assembled an ice bag for the bump on Ness's forehead had allowed the fire to further die down. Only when the frost dissipated into damp skin over Popo's throbbing knuckles were the embers fully extinguished.

Ness was still (justifiably) shouting out on the porch. Hopefully, Lucas would be able to keep things smoothed over enough for Popo to properly apologize...even though he knew he wasn't entirely in the wrong for taking a swing.

Holding his wrist, Popo rolled his hand slightly and flexed his fingers as he surveyed the kitchen. Most of the pizza was gone, so he packed the two slices of pepperoni and one slice of sausage in with the slices of plain cheese and slid the box into the fridge.

As Popo stepped out of the kitchen, he turned towards a couple of purple boxes, one significantly smaller than the other, sitting by the front door and frowned. In the ruckus following Popo's impromptu pugilism display, Lucas had brought them in just before Ness stormed out and slammed the door. Curiously, he picked up the smaller box and read the fancy font on the front. What the heck was 'Fine Label's'? There weren't any other words on it other than instructions to deliver it to 'Number 15, Residential District'.

Peeking inside the box, he caught a glimpse of red fabric just as the door suddenly swung open and hit the wall beside him with an almost deafening bang. Startled, he bobbled the box between his hands for a few seconds before it ultimately tumbled to the floor. Just as he bent over to pick the box back up, soft giggling yanked his attention toward the doorway.

Even with the top of the entryway shrouding her eyes in shadow from the foyer light, there was no mistaking the playfulness behind Nana's little smile as she stood swaying in the door frame. Mouth working in stunned silence, Popo stared at her as he tried to think of something to say. Her head tilted, allowing one of her silver hairclips to catch the light from the streetlight behind her, and her smile slowly widened.

Without warning, she lurched forward and stumbled across the threshold. Instinctively, Popo met her halfway and easily caught her by the waist before she crashed into him. Another round of giggles escaped her as she loosely draped her arms over his shoulders.

"I missed you," she slowly said in a low voice, stretching one leg behind her to nudge the door with her foot. Over her shoulder, Popo spotted Cassidy, still ambling down the street, before the door closed and cut off his view. With a quick blink and shake of his head, Popo exorcised all thoughts of the guy and locked his eyes onto Nana's lidded violet gaze with a fond smile.

"Likewise," he murmured, leaning in with the intent to rest his forehead against hers.

Just before their heads met, one of Nana's hands had firmly grasped the back of Popo's neck while the other's fingers tangled themselves in his hair. He caught a brief glimpse of her eyes flashing dangerously above an impish grin before she tilted her head and pulled him in.

Apart from the rough collision of their lips, the kiss began as their kisses usually had. But any semblance of normalcy quickly went out the window when Popo found himself with his back against the wall. Nana further surprised him by suddenly pressing against him, releasing his neck and head to press her palms into the wall on either side of him. He breathed deeply through his nose and savored her scent as it filled his nostrils. Some moments later, the kiss turned desperate and hungry when someone—Popo wasn't sure who—parted their lips. His surprised gasp, silently sealed within Nana's lips, rewarded him with a curious taste of smoky citrus fruit that left him craving more.

Far too soon in Popo's opinion, they parted with an audible smack. With their hearts pounding together at the center of their embrace, they stared intently at each other while gulping down mouthfuls of air. While he took this reprieve to admire her flushed features, she attacked again. There was a quick peck on the mouth, followed by a gentle nip of his bottom lip before she trailed rapid-fire kisses along his chin and jawline until she reached her destination. His ragged breathing matched his quickened pulse as her mouth hovered just beside his ear, and she loudly licked her lips before blowing gently into it.

"Remember this morning?"

He almost couldn't hear her slurred whispering over his heartbeat. She, fortunately, seemed perfectly content to wait for his answer as she gently nuzzled and kissed his ear between soft giggles. He, unfortunately, was repeatedly losing track of his thoughts as he tried to recall their earlier conversation from so many hours ago.

"Here's a hint: I'm in a good mood."

Punctuating her honeyed words was a gentle nibble to his earlobe. A shiver traversed his spine twice over as he let out a little whimper. She pulled back with a smug smirk, almost imperceptibly flicking her gaze downward and back with a slight raise of her eyebrows. Somehow, the little respite gave his woozy head enough space to finally process her hint. His train of thought was nearly derailed again when she quickly moved in to lavish affections on his other ear, but he took deep breaths to keep himself focused. Finally, despite her relentless assault on his weak points, the words finally came back to him.

'I don't think I can pull off your outfit.'

'If I'm in a good mood when I get home, you might just get to.'

A breath he didn't realize he was holding flared out through his nostrils and newfound vigor suffused his muscles. In one motion, he'd pushed away from the wall and wrapped his arms around Nana. She let out a squeal of surprise and delight before hopping up and cinching her legs around his waist, followed by a gasp when Popo eagerly slid his hands beneath her rear to support her new position.

Popo took a moment to appreciate the smooth, stretchy material of Nana's shorts while she giggled and used both hands to gently play with his hair. "Figured it out?"

Rather than risk killing the mood with the dumb words drifting through his dumb thoughts, Popo simply nodded. This wasn't the time for thinking—inaction from constantly weighing risks had allowed far too many opportunities and moments between them to fade out. It was a damn miracle she continued to put up with him for so long! He took a deep breath to ready himself for a different kind of risk.

His face must have betrayed his thoughts, or maybe it was his hands seizing a firmer grip because Nana's expression turned curious. Her lips parted to say something, only for a squeak to escape when he suddenly lifted her a bit more for easier access to her weak point. By now, the realization set in on her face; he caught a brief glimpse of her eyes widening as he ducked his head forward to gently press his lips against the soft skin of her neck.

Nana's reaction was instant. Her legs tightened around his torso and her hands gently seized fistfuls of his hair. Her breath was rhythmically released in short, ragged gasps that continuously blew into his ear, fueling his desire to keep this going. A tentative, gentle bite of her neck elicited a hissed intake of breath, and her heels dug into the small of his back. With a playful growl, muffled by Nana's neck, Popo began to gently nibble the soft flesh within his lips, reveling the sensation of her pulse pounding against his mouth.

Her hands suddenly tightened in twin iron grips and tugged at the back of his head. "Popo...Popo, wait!"

Regardless of the frustration behind Popo's acknowledging grunt, he immediately complied and let her pull his head away. She leaned back against the wall she was now pressed against—at some point, Popo must have turned the tables on her—and stared dazedly at the ceiling as she breathed heavily through an open-mouthed smile. Some moments later, her grip had loosened and she gently stroked his hair.

"Sorry," she huffed, finally meeting his eyes. "Not here."

Equal parts confusion and hope filled Popo's thoughts, the former of which dissipated when she jerked her head toward the stairs. She giggled when he all but instantly spun in the indicated direction and clasped her hands at the nape of his neck while rocking back and forth in his grasp. Navigating the steps was a bit troublesome with her constantly moving around like that, but he'd carried her through worse situations.

And besides, it gave his eager hands a little bit more to touch while he carried her.

"Hey, Popo," Nana suddenly drawled about halfway up, dragging out the vowels of his name.

He halted their ascent, blushing when he noticed the blotchy red mark he'd left on the side of her neck. "Yeah?"

"D'you...you remember that one time ya..." She paused, lolling her head to the side. A second later, she shook her head and looked intently at him. "When ya pulled my hair on accident?"

Popo took a careful breath through his nose and kept his face neutral. That happened years ago; why bring it up now, of all times? They'd both acknowledged it as an accident at the time, and she was clearly acknowledging it as such now. On top of his profuse prostrating and apologizing, he'd even offered her, on the spot, a free shot at him to exact her revenge. If she was using that chance now...

"Yeah," he eventually said, steeling himself.

Biting her lip, Nana rested her forehead against his and blinked a few times. "Look, I dunno how t' say this without bein' weird, but I, uh...I kinda...li..."

Whatever word she was about to say was cut off when she went limp and flopped backward to stare at the ceiling. If not for her interlaced hands behind his neck, her head might very well have hit the stairs. Still, Popo was forced to lean back considerably to compensate for the sudden shift in balance. Cautiously, he placed his foot on the next step and used his knee to better stabilize her while he repositioned a hand to better support her back. "Nana? Nana!"

Upon reaching a more vertical position, her head slowly slumped forward until her chin was resting at the top of her sternum. While much more preferable to its previously unsupported position, Popo's concern remained. Fortunately, his worries were assuaged when her lips parted for a breath.

"Hrnk...Snrk...SNGAWWWWZZZzzzzz..."

As Nana's loud, phlegmy snoring subsided into her usual deep sleep cadence, Popo just stood there and squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds. With a long sigh, he opened them again and made his way up the rest of the stairs and down a hallway that now felt four times longer. After gently laying her down on the bed, he removed her silver hairclips and placed them into their box, which he left open on the nightstand. Finally, he pulled off her boots and set them down on the other side of the nightstand so she wouldn't trip over them in the morning.

Although he knew it was ultimately futile, he gently jostled her shoulder in one last attempt to wake her up. When she only gave a soft grunt in response, he simply gave a tight-lipped nod and slumped his shoulders.

"Out at Second," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling. After a minute or so had passed, he started a slow, shameful walk to the bathroom.

He needed a cold shower.

Author's Note: (01/13/2023) This is easily my fastest turnaround in, like, a really long time. I'd love to say that I'll be able to keep this output speed going, but I'm not going to just sit here and lie to you, dear reader.

The biggest hurdle is that work is picking up. This might not be the worst situation, as I'm often near a computer and can write on the side between tasks. In fact, that's how I'd bashed out the bulk of these last three chapters, so there's still hope.

The next hurdle in front of me is that I have a lot of ideas that I really need to get out there. There are piles of AUs that I've been drumming up, so be on the lookout for a new project featuring our low-tier couple in new situations! I'm also planning out a prequel story that will cover the years from the end of their last tournament to chapter 2 of this story, so expect that to crop up as well. And fear not—I'll continue to work on LSiDfCS between all those things. This story is far from over.

In the meantime, I'll be reading and reviewing the stories of friends who absolutely deserve reciprocation for the attention they've been giving my humble little tale. Until then, I'll see y'all next update (or new publication, or maybe even in your reviews)!