Melee Academy of Higher Learning for Boys
Year Four – The Final Year
-Two-
The boisterous month known as September, the month of school beginnings and relationship endings, gave way to the sulky cool of October. Fall had come, bringing with it the somewhat depressive state all of nature seemed to fall into. The leaves were beginning to turn their pretty colours, starting from green and moving into yellows and deep, beautiful reds.
Marth was not a fan of the month of October. It was one of those 'transitional months', where it would be hot one minute and cold the next. It wouldn't even be a comfortable hot, either—it would be a sticky sort of heat, the type Marth didn't like. He could never get used to it, either, for in the summers, he would return to Altea, where it was cool all year round. It was also one of the dreary months where everything began to wither and die.
Currently it was cold out, just how Marth liked it, but with a rain that made the cool cling to their skin. Rain droplets tapped against the window panes, causing rivulets down the glass. Bored out of his mind, Marth had taken to watching the drops slide down the pane and meet their doom at the ledge as Roy flitted about the room half dressed. It wasn't until Roy caught Marth's attention that the prince saw he was only in his boxer-shorts.
"You know, I hate it when I lose things," Roy said, breaking the silence that had fallen over their bedroom. He was searching the entire room for his keys, which he usually never left the house without. Normally they were by his wallet, which was always on his nightstand. But today, they were not with his wallet. And Roy was the type that, if he didn't place something down himself, he wouldn't be able to find it.
"What did you lose this time?" Marth asked, his voice implying this had happened many, many, many times before.
Roy was searching the pockets of every pair of pants he had worn in the past week, hopeful he had left them in one of them.
"My keys."
"Oh." Back to the rain Marth went.
Roy found a ball of lint, three dollars in quarters, some girl's cell phone number, a pack of gum, and something of unidentifiable origin in his pockets, but no keys.
"Huh. That's weird. I could have sworn—"
"Maybe they're in the actual laundry?" Marth suggested, trying to be helpful.
Roy sighed. "Peach'll kill me then 'cause that'll mean the washer's busted."
Marth scanned the room and grabbed and threw Roy's uniform pants at him. "Did you check those?"
Roy barely caught them—he wasn't very coordinated in the early morning—and searched the pockets. Sure enough, there they were—his Nintendo keychain complete with three silver keys and a dog tag that said 'Roy E. Pherae' with his room and Smasher numbers underneath it.
"I wish I knew to check these first." He put them back into his pocket and quickly pulled his pants on.
Marth sat Roy on his lap and wrapped his arms around him. "As long as you know where they are, who cares?" And he nuzzled Roy's neck.
"Don't forget the cake tasting today," Roy reminded Marth, patting his cheek as he got up once more. He found his shirt and shrugged it on, buttoning it with no problems, and then grabbed for his tie on the headboard post.
Marth took a glance at the huge wall calendar and saw that it was the first Saturday of October. Cake tasting. It was even circled in red so neither of them would forget.
Marth had somehow almost forgotten that he was even getting married; he felt like he already was—at least, he felt like he was married to Roy already; he technically was married, but to someone else. This slice of reality came knocking on his skull like a jackhammer to concrete.
"Oh geez, we're getting married in a few months."
Roy slipped on his low-tops and gave Marth a look. "December's not that far away, you know." He slipped his arms around Marth's neck and gave him a peck on the mouth. "Especially since it's October third already."
"But there's so much to do still…"
Another peck on the mouth. "Don't worry too much. Zelda's helping, remember?"
And Roy kissed Marth in such a way that he temporarily forgot about his worries.
-x-
"Older Me," Young Link called as he made his bed this bright and cheery morning, if rain could be considered 'bright and cheery'. To some people, maybe, but to most of the Smashers, it spelled disaster. If one could hear past Link's snoring, you could hear birds chirping their lament towards the weather and miscellaneous noise from the people downstairs or outside, like Falco swearing at Wolf or Zelda yelling at Ganondorf for no reason at all.
"Hey, wake up." Still no response. "Link." Young Link walked over and beat him with a pillow. Most normal people would have awoken and would have promptly beat Young Link up, but Link wasn't classified by most as 'normal'. He stirred, but did not wake; instead, Link said something that was incoherent and simply rolled onto his stomach.
Young Link picked up his history binder from beside his bed and threw it at his older self; the binder collided with Link's head—
"Link…" Zelda leaned in closer to his face, their hands clasped as she giggled. Her breath smelled like a mix between red velvet cake and red wine, and Link didn't even mind it so much.
"Yes, Zelda?"
"I'm getting a divorce from Ganondorf, letting him take care of his bastard of a child, and then…" She smiled as she trailed off, as if what she just said was normal.
"And what, Zel?"
"Let's run away together, Link."
Link blinked. "But I'm with Ike…"
Her grin became wider. "Bring him, too."
The world around them began to swirl into something resembling Trix two coloured yogurt that was thrown up all over the place, and Link then tripped over what appeared to be a binder…
—and he shot out of bed and onto the floor, sheets tangled around his half-naked form.
"Ow," Link said as he rubbed his head and looked menacingly at the green coloured binder. "What the heck was that for?" He looked around the room and saw his younger half smirking at him from the door way. That twerp could move fast if he wanted to.
"It's Saturday, Older Me. You know what that means."
Link groaned as he untangled himself from his bed coverings. "School."
On the other side of the hall, Ness was slapping Popo awake with his yo-yo. The male Ice Climber instinctively hit Ness with his mallet, which led to a fight breaking out. Marth and Roy had just left their room when they heard the noise, and ran off to see what was going on, followed by Young Link and his barely dressed older self.
"Do you guys honestly want to go to school with a bloody nose and broken ribs?" Roy asked, poking his head into the room. Marth gave him a look.
Ness put his yo-yo in his pocket and walked out of the room without saying a word. Popo simply sucked the blood back into his nose, wiped at the battle wounds inflicted by that stupid red yo-yo, and ran after him.
"Popo can't go to school like that," Young Link mused. "They'd send him home for coming to class in his underwear."
-x-
Marth pulled the BMW into the parking lot at last and ordered everyone out after he found a good spot. Roy exited the vehicle and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket; he searched for his lighter by patting down all possible locations on his person, but it was all in vain, for it was nowhere to be found.
"Anyone got a light?" he asked. Link shook his head and began his walk to the campus; Marth came over with a lighter—Roy's lighter—and handed it to him.
"It was in the cup holder," Marth said before Roy could ask. "Now hurry up before we're late." He could be a real stickler when it came to being on time.
"Well aren't you a cheery person this morning." Roy lit the cigarette and spent their walk across the parking lot smoking it.
"Considering Link almost caused three car accidents—"
"Four."
"Whatever. I'm going to be a little off in the morning. Plus it's a Saturday, and no one likes going in to school on a Saturday. But don't you worry; I'll be all…um… What's the word I'm looking for…?"
"Mellowed out?" Roy offered.
"Yes. Whatever that means."
"You'll be all calmed down," Roy defined. "Do they not use that term in Altea or something?"
Marth shook his head. "It's new to me."
There were quite a few groups of people in front of the parking lot gates, most of which were busy smoking either cigarettes or joints. There was a group by an abandoned house adjacent to the lot, where a boy was using his tie as a tourniquet of sorts; Roy didn't want to know what they were doing, but his guess was heroin or some form of crack. Marth merely clicked his tongue at their methods.
"Do they realize how unsanitary that is?" Marth whispered, gesturing to a group chain smoking and another sharing a needle filled with a green sort of liquid.
"Do you realize they probably don't care?" Roy said through his cigarette, expelling the smoke from his nose.
Roy was about to cross the street, hands in his pockets, casual as all hell, when Marth grabbed him by the blazer and pulled him back to the sidewalk. A car came zooming out of nowhere and would have run him over had Marth not reacted quick enough. The cigarette nearly fell from his mouth.
"Woo! We own dis shit!" said the driver of the aforementioned vehicle. He hiccupped and threw a glass bong to the ground. Some sluttishly dressed boy around Young Link's age exited the car, walking drunkenly to the front walk of the school as the driver parallel parked badly.
"Since when was this a bad area, anyway?" Marth asked as they proceeded to cross the street.
Roy shrugged. "Probably since all the people from the other side of town started going here."
"Hey, you! Put some clothes on!" one of the campus officers shouted to the sluttishly dressed boy, whose name was Issak. It was tattooed on his arm, in the form of a "My name is…" name tag.
"Bite me," Issak replied, with a look to kill gracing his features.
The campus officer named Billy Coen spat on the ground and growled, the muscles in his arms bulging.
"I ate brats like you for breakfast back when I was in the Marines!"
"Calm down, Billy," Rebecca Chambers said, grabbing his arm. "Don't do something to get you the death penalty again."
Billy growled again as a certain cardboard box covered figure nearly flew down the front steps. It stopped right in front of Issak with the this end up arrow facing down.
"Why did my parents bother to send me here again?" Issak blew a strand of black, purple, and blue streaked hair out of his face, his expression bored looking. "In a world where cardboard boxes are sentient beings…"
And then Snake took that moment to come pouncing out of the box, causing poor Issak to shriek like a five year old girl, thus ruining his 'badass slut' image forever. His boyfriend laughed so hard that he needed the support of his car door, but he was unbalanced anyway, so he would have needed the car door regardless.
"We have a Code Eff 42 Blue Green Yellow, over," Snake said into his radio as he grabbed Issak's wrist. "Can anyone read me, over?"
Billy rolled his eyes. "Y'know, I bet that code doesn't even exist."
"Hush, Billy," Rebecca warned. "Just go along with it."
"Who the hell even knows what that means?"
There was the sound of static and then an emphatic, "I can read you, over!" came through.
"Where's your current location, soldier?"
"The name's Nicholas," came the answer.
Issak tugged at his wrist, and Snake promptly twisted it. There was a crack and a cry of pain from the wannabe badass. More laughter came from his friends, and everyone just continued on like this sort of thing was, well, normal. And since this was Melee Academy, it probably was.
"Well, Chris—"
"Chris is my dad." Nicholas sounded rather impatient, as if he was mistaken for his father more than once that day.
Snake stared at the radio for a moment.
"I don't give a shit. Listen, I'm at T.F.W.W.B.T.T with some pro and I need him escorted to Wesker's office."
Just when Nicholas was about to answer the call, someone else cut into the line.
"I'll take it," came an officer by the name of Chris Redfield.
"But dad, I took this one first."
"Shut up and continue your patrol of the third floor." There was a momentary silence, then, "You said you're at the front walkway by the tree, over?"
"Yes," Snake muttered.
"I'll be right there then, over and out."
While this was all going on, Marth and Roy managed to continue on their way to the main entrance of the school building. Roy snuffed out the cigarette on his shoe sole and flicked it onto the walkway. They had just gotten to the door when Chris came bounding out the door and down the front steps. He seemed happy to be of service, though people often wondered if he really loved taking students to Wesker's office, or whether there was something else going on. Maybe Wesker offered cookies to all who entered his private and rather spacious office.
Or maybe he threw them against the wall, interrogated them until they cried, injected them with some weird drug, and Chris got a front row seat to it all against his will. Who knew exactly what went on in there?
-x-
"Today we're going to look at a video detailing pollution in places like China," Lucario said, as his second period Environment Science class looked about as happy as a dying man.
"Isn't there something more exciting we could learn about?" cried one student.
"Where the hell is China?"
"I think I saw it in an anime once," someone else replied. "They wear funny looking clothes and they have seven warriors who have to protect some priestess chick."
No one questioned this, mostly because no one else had really heard of China, either, much less had visited or seen pictures. Lucario merely shook his head at his students' stupidity and cleared his throat.
"On your desks is a worksheet with questions on it. You are to answer them using complete sentences and ink."
"Where do we get the answers from?"
Is this kid a moron or something? "You get them from watching the video clip," Lucario answered.
Link doodled on his paper as Lucario shut the lights off. He had no intention of watching the clip, nor did he really care about pollution in some place he had never heard of. Roy wasn't even paying much attention—he had a book hidden underneath his desk that he was reading instead. It wasn't that he didn't care or anything, he was just suffering from Senioritis in October. And the weather wasn't really encouraging productivity, either.
One kid in the back of the classroom, Travis, had his iNintendo blaring away to the point that people on the other side of the world could probably hear it. He drummed along to the beat on his desk, bopped his head to the music, and even sang some parts of the songs. His partner-in-crime, Jeff, was also listening to his iNintendo, but he was being much more obnoxious about it. In an attempt to drown out their antics, Lucario turned the volume on the video up, but he just couldn't win against seventeen year olds. Link got fed up and took out his Nintenpod so he wouldn't have to listen to the War Against Music.
"Stephenie, please come inside the classroom," Lucario said, nearing the doorway. Stephenie was currently in a deep and passionate make out session and should not have been disturbed unless the school was on fire (or her father was lurking the hall).
"Stephenie."
Stephenie finally broke the kiss and glared at her teacher. "And what're you gonna do, exactly? I have an 'A' in this class. Obviously I know what I'm doing."
"I can write you up for cutting class. Then you can explain to your parents why you were in Mr. Wesker's office for a suspension."
Stephenie snorted. "My mom is best friends with Wesker. He can't do shit to me."
"My dad's best friends with Wesker too," Nicholas chimed in, surprised at Stephenie's statement.
Stephenie gave him a look. "What are you talking about? Your dad and Wesker are like, archenemies. Wesker's out for your dad's blood and shit."
"I think it's because Wesker shoves my dad against a wall and demands he call him 'Captain'…"
Lucario promptly went to the other side of the room, as far away from the teenaged couple as possible.
"You know, you could've just said Wesker gave out free cookies and juice or something," Stephenie said. "The whole 'Captain' thing was a little overkill."
Puzzled, Nicholas went, "I was making the whole thing up?"
Stephenie blinked. "…That shit's not real, right?"
Neither said anything, because Stephenie realized right then that Nicholas wasn't making anything up.
-x-
Roy sighed as he sat down in his seat for English class. He didn't really care much for sitting through yet another session of Beowulf, which he thought was boring. Link didn't care, either, and usually fell asleep.
"This class is insane," whispered one student, who eyed Mr. Georgeston suspiciously. "The teacher belongs in a mental asylum."
Stephenie snorted.
"'S so funny, Kennedy?" the student whose name was Wesley asked, eyes narrowed.
"If you think Mr. Georgeston's insane, then you haven't ever taken German or had room 406 as your homeroom."
Wesley rolled his eyes. "I actually have that as my homeroom." Wesley was in a Third Year homeroom because he was a slacker all of last year, and therefore, did not have enough credits to be considered a candidate for graduation.
"And who's your teacher for it?"
Wesley crossed his arms. "The hell does this have to do with anything?"
"Because you think Georgeston is the most insane teacher, and I'm telling you that's a bunch of bullfuck," Stephenie argued.
Wesley grunted. "I have some guy whose name begins with an 'S'. I don't remember what it is and frankly, I don't care."
Mr. Georgeston called for the class's attention so he could get started with Grendel's mom and how Beowulf would end up kicking her ass like he did Grendel; sadly for him, he was ignored by a few students. He went on with the lesson, however, and managed to completely ignore random outbursts from the back of the room, where Stephenie and Wesley sat.
Why did I have to be stuck with all the crazy people in my class? Roy thought as he tried to focus on Beowulf's journey. Sadly, his eyes simply glazed over whenever he attempted to read for more than a minute. It didn't help that Mr. Georgeston talked in a monotone, either.
Why is it so damn noisy in here? Link thought as he tried to take a nap for forty five minutes. Link had good grades in the class, plus Mr. Georgeston had some weird obsession with the Hylian, so he let his behaviour slide.
"He pointed a gun at me and made one kid kill himself on a desk, and you don't think he's the most insane teacher in the school?!" Stephenie was beginning to question Wesley's sanity. "Are you crazy?"
"Compared to teachers like Mr. Dragmire and Mr. Koopa, who are all bent on world domination? He's actually sane."
"You think a psychopathic telepath who can control people's minds is completely sane in comparison to Ganondorf and Bowser?"
"Children, could you please quiet down in the back?" Mr. Georgeston requested in a voice that sounded like a cross between Barney the dinosaur and Ronald McDonald. Stephenie felt a shiver creep up her spine.
"Yeah, Stephen. Shut the fuck up," Wesley sneered, running a hand through his perfectly crunchy locks. He used way too much hair gel and he didn't even notice he looked like a Ken doll reject.
Stephenie growled. "It's Stephenie."
"I bet your father liked you better as a boy. At least you could hold a gun and be a man."
Stephenie looked murderous, her hazel eyes shooting daggers at him.
"If you like your balls, I suggest you shut the fuck up before I rip them off with my bare hands."
"Yeah, Wesley, shut the frig up for once," warned another student, whose name was Bane. "She's not the type of chick you wanna screw with."
Wesley snorted. "She's the type of girl you'd screw with, but in a different way." Oh wasn't he just so charming.
"Could you all just shut up so I can focus on Beowulf? Elimine be damned!"
Everyone looked at Roy then, who was on the verge of throwing his copy of the Old Anglo-Saxon legend at someone's—probably Wesley's—head.
"Well done, Mr. Pherae," Mr. Georgeston said, creepy undertones in his voice as he stroked Roy's back.
"The only teacher who can come onto me like that is Mr. Lowell, thank you," Roy said, gently pushing Mr. Georgeston's hand off his back. "And that's only because we're engaged."
Wesley coughed.
"Are you related to a Gary Martin Stu by any chance?" Stephenie asked. "You're just as annoying as him."
"Just because my name is Martin Wesley Stu, doesn't mean we're related."
"So then why are you called Wesley if your name is Martin?" Bane's curiosity was piqued.
"Because I hate people calling me Marty Stu." He was about to launch into a tragic and very angsty back story about how he was bullied as a child for being a huge asshole and how his parents never loved him because they realized some peculiar with their child…
"You think you're just so perfect and wonderful, so people call you Marty Stu, and you hate that, launch into angst about it, and then decide you wish to be called Wesley instead." Stephenie had it all figured out. "Then you'll find out you're related to Albert Wesker or something."
"Again, trying to read Beowulf here," Roy reminded everyone, subtly telling everyone to shut their mouths.
"Trying to take a nap here," Link chimed in. "I need my beauty sleep so I can stay sexy, you know."
A few minutes later, Stephenie let out a cry to the heavens, and Wesley smirked.
-x-
"Open your textbooks to page 277, class."
Kweenetra, who had recently reinstated herself into the high school, raised her hand as everyone else (except Link) took out their textbooks.
"Uhm, sensei?"
Marth looked up from his lesson plan. "Hai, Kweenetra-san?"
Kweenetra blinked as she tried to think of what she wanted to say in Japanese. This was Japanese 4 after all, despite her being a Third Year. She lost all of her Japanese during her 'break' somehow, probably because she didn't use it.
"Kyokasho ga arimasen."
Link raised his hand. "I second what she said!"
At least Kweenetra has an excuse, Marth thought as he went to the supplies closet to get one. Link probably left his somewhere.
"Link-san, kyokasho wa doko desu ka."
Link shrugged. "I have no idea where it is."
Marth wanted to hit himself in the head with something. How could someone not keep track of their things?
"Anou… Kyokasho wa locker no naka de nokoshimashita ka." Marth knew students occasionally left books in their lockers. Usually under that huge stack of papers he knew they never cleaned out. He knew from experience what that was like.
"No." Then, in a mutter to Roy, "Whatever he said."
"He asked if you left it in your locker."
Marth sighed, defeated, as he handed Kweenetra her book.
"Just look on with Roy for now, all right?"
Link gave a thumbs up. Marth was beginning to think he failed Link as a teacher.
"Now, class. On page 277 you will find a heading that says 'Asking Questions About the Japanese Language'."
"Finally, something useful," Dean muttered to no one in particular.
"So if you ever have the opportunity to go to Japan, and you can't read something or you don't know a word, you'll be able to ask about it."
"Sensei, isn't that sort of… Well, self-explanatory? It's not that hard to come up with how to ask about something like…kanji." Then again, Stephenie was at a native speaker's level, so what was easy for her wasn't necessarily easy for anyone else.
Marth ignored her.
"When I went to Japan," Dean began, "and I asked about things, people just said, in perfect English, 'I don't speak English.' Or, in perfect Japanese, 'I don't speak Japanese.'"
"That's because they were ignoring you," Marth said. "You were probably asking something stupid, anyway."
Dean frowned. "How is asking where the nearest restroom in an amusement park 'stupid'?"
"Because there are signs," Stephenie said.
"Yeah. In kanji."
"Like the kanji for oterai is really that hard to learn."
Dean stood up and crossed the classroom to where Stephenie sat.
"Just because you're fluent, doesn't mean I am."
Stephenie snorted. "We learned the kanji for bathroom, Dean. We learned it in Second Year Japanese."
Dean went back to his seat, his anger deflated because he knew she was right.
Marth cleared his throat. "Can I continue with my lesson?"
Stephenie waved an okay and Dean said, "Yes."
"This is all leading to an activity where you write questions of your own and find someone who knows the answers, plus this will be on your test and it's practical knowledge. It doesn't hurt to refresh your memory if you already know it, either. So, who feels like reading the first one?"
Link's hand shot up faster than a speeding bullet.
"Hai, Link-san. Ichiban wo yondekudasai."
Link took Roy's book and peered closely at it for a moment before reading the single sentence he was given.
"Soomeemahsehn. Coreay wah dough kanji sheemahsoo ka. Toe—"
If I listen to the whole thing, my ears will bleed and my head will explode. "That's enough, Link. Roy-san, ichiban no kotae to niban wo yondekudasai."
"'Tou zai nan boku' is the first answer. Number two is 'Sumimasen. Kono kanji wa dou yomimasu ka'. And the answer is 'Asayuu'."
Link took a swig of Mountain Dew from a hidden hip flask he kept in his blazer pocket. The effect of the caffeine was beginning to lessen, and he couldn't let that happen. Dean quickly grew bored and so he started talking to Alex about ninja.
"Since we still have some time left, I can at least start us on the next disc of Immerse Yourself in Japanese."
Stephenie decided she could finally learn something. Maybe. Dean straightened up in his seat, Alex decided it was worth paying attention for once, and Frankie said nothing. Most people even forgot he was in the class to begin with. And Kweenetra was…Kweenetra.
Marth popped the DVD into the player, chose the 'play' option, and sat behind to contemplate what made him choose teaching as a career.
I knew I should have gone to college instead.
-x-
"Can you believe we have to write a story about a battle applying everything we learned about an epic?" Roy complained as he and Link were walking the deserted halls. They had to stay after school for the purposes of speaking to Mr. Georgeston about said assignment.
"Oh, it's not that bad."
"That's because you're gonna just dig up one of your freshman papers, change a few things, and hand it in," Roy replied grimly.
They arrived at Roy's locker, and he undid the lock so they could gather their things together.
"It's not like you have nothing to write about. You were in a war or ten."
"Just one," Roy corrected. "And I don't really like talking about it." He didn't like remembering the fact that his father's best friend ended up killed in the battle for Araphen. Despite the fact that it wasn't his fault and he was lucky he was late—he could have had the same fate as Lord Hector, in fact—he still held tremendous guilt.
"Your father was in a war too, wasn't he? I'm sure he's told you stories. Use one of them." Link grabbed his things off the top shelf, which was still labeled 'Marth'.
"I don't feel comfortable using my father's experiences. My grandfather was killed in that war, too." He grabbed his coat, and Link shut the locker door and locked it.
"Roy, people die in wars. I was orphaned because of one. I have a reason to hate Ganondorf aside from the obligatory 'he's evil' and 'he's trying to kill me for the Triforce of Courage' thing."
They headed for the doors leading for the third floor.
"I know. But I still don't want to use my father's stories. I…I feel weird."
Link wrapped his arm around Roy's shoulder.
"That's because he used them as bedtime stories, so you're remembering a time when you were a kid, and…well, you don't have that now…"
"Yeah," Roy said, his voice meek. He still wasn't at the one hundred percent 'I've come to terms' stage yet.
"Have you ever told Marth about the stuff that went on with that thing with Bern?" He ushered Roy through the door before him since, after all, two people couldn't go through at a time without getting stuck.
"No. All he knows is that I was in a war. He doesn't know much about it."
"And why, pray tell, have you kept this stuff from him? He's your fiancé. He should know these things."
They went through the front doors. A cold blast of air greeted them, causing their eyes to water and their throats to burn.
"Because I'm sure Marth doesn't want to hear yet another story of love and tragedy and loss and bloodshed. He had two stories of his own, and they're worse than mine."
"You don't know that, though."
"Don't know what?"
"That Marth doesn't want to hear them. Who knows? He might be able to help you come to terms with a lot of things. He's older, so he has more experience and stuff."
Roy scoffed as they crossed the street to get to the parking lot. "You and Marth could relate a lot better than he and I could."
"Oh?"
"You and him were both orphaned in a war. My mother and father died of illness. They're not the same thing."
"No, they aren't," Link agreed. "But you and him both lost loved ones. That's enough to relate, isn't it?"
Roy stopped in the middle of the lot. Link stopped with him.
"What? Why the sudden stop?"
"You're acting way too serious, Link. I'm not sure I like it."
Link sighed. "One moment I'm too comical, another moment I'm too serious. There's no happy medium with you," he joked.
"I like you more as comic relief myself," Roy admitted. "But that's because when we first met, you were the one cracking jokes."
Link shrugged. "I'm your best friend, Roy. Aren't best friends supposed to stand by each other, support each other, and cheer each other up, etcetera? Isn't that what a friend does?"
Roy nodded. "I guess."
"Marth's your best friend too, you know. He's your fiancé, but he was your friend first. Sure, he can be a little aloof at times and not know how to respond to things in a more personalized, casual manner, but… He listens."
They started walking again, towards the end of the lot.
"And you don't have to bring everything out at one time. You can bring it out a little at a time, as you're ready to." Then, in a joking tone, Link continued, "Maybe we can open up a support group or something. I'm sure most of The Manse and The Parthenon would attend. Marth and Zelda would be the mediators because they're calm as hell most of the time. And it could be on Wednesdays."
"Why Wednesdays?"
Link shrugged. "Middle of the week? I dunno. Work with me here."
At last, they approached the end of the rather big parking lot. It was one of the few cars remaining—most of the faculty had left a while ago.
"Yo, Marth, unlock the doors, huh?"
The window rolled down and Marth leaned over the passenger seat to open the door.
"It was unlocked the whole time, you know," Marth said. "And you could have asked nicely, too."
Roy shrugged as he climbed into the front seat; Link said nothing and got in the back.
"So how was your day?" Marth asked as he pulled out of the lot and onto the street.
"Boring," Link said, fidgeting with his seatbelt. "I slept most of the time."
Marth glanced at Roy from the corner of his eye.
"Caffeine crash," Roy explained.
"I see. …Anything else new?"
"We have this stupid assignment for Japanese class," Link said. "I mean really, who the heck has us write a story about how the seasons are in our hometown?"
Marth looked in the rearview mirror. "Who teaches your Japanese class, Link? Maybe I could talk to him about you having to do work."
Link missed Marth's sarcasm. "Lowell-sensei teaches it—"
Then he realized what Marth was talking about. "Oh. Right. You're my Japanese teacher."
"Thank you for remembering, Link. I feel the love already. As for the assignment, I've never been to Hyrule, so I don't know what the seasons are like. I thought it would be interesting to do, that's all."
"There's nothing special about it," Link said. "Our spring is cool and calm, our summers hot and stormy, our fall chilly, and our winter freezing and filled with lots of snow."
"See, in Altea, it's varying degrees of 'cool', 'cold', and 'freezing' depending on the time of year."
Link still grumbled about the assignment.
"The interesting part of your assignment will be the Japanese aspect. I expect it to be written in Japanese this time, not in romanji."
"But I don't know how to write in Japanese."
Another look in the rearview mirror, this one a glare.
"You are in Year Four of Japanese and you can't write it?"
"I didn't find it useful."
Marth almost crashed into the car in front of him.
"I think it's time you saw a tutor, Link. I'll have to arrange it." And Marth left it at that.
"There's this stupid English assignment we have to do," Link said, changing the subject.
"On?"
"Writing a battle scene that fits all the rules of an epic poem story thing."
"Shouldn't be too hard, considering you'll just use something you already wrote, edit a few things in it, maybe add another section, change the dates and the teacher's name, and hand it in."
Link sighed. "Roy said the same thing, just in fewer words."
Speaking of Roy… Why is he so quiet? "Roy? Are you all right?"
Roy was staring out the car window. "I'm fine."
If you think I buy that for a second, you're wrong. "You're never this quiet."
"I'm tired."
Marth got the hint that Roy didn't want to elaborate on anything, so he left him alone.
"Well then, that English project of yours shouldn't be that difficult. You've had plenty of experience in battles. It shouldn't take too long to write something."
No one said anything as Marth pulled into the long, gravel filled driveway.
-x-
Marth stretched before slipping under the covers next to Roy, who was busy writing something—probably that English assignment.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Marth felt Roy's forehead, then his face. "You aren't acting like yourself. Did something happen today?"
Roy stopped writing and put the pen down. "I'm fine. Stop worrying so much."
Marth's brow furrowed. "Roy, I'm not stupid. We didn't meet just yesterday. Don't act as if I don't know you."
Roy threw his notebook and pen onto the floor by the bed, where the rest of his school things were.
"Couldn't be closer to the truth. You don't know me."
Marth's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about? I've known you for four years. You didn't start actually talking to me until a few months into that first year, but… We've been together for two years. I think it would be safe for me to say I know how you act."
"But you don't know everything."
Marth said nothing for a while. He needed time to compose his thoughts.
"You don't know everything about me, either. Everyone needs to keep secrets, Roy. I don't need to know every last detail. We've been over this."
"You don't understand. I want to talk to someone about this, but I…"
Marth's expression softened. "What do you wish to talk about? What do you wish I'd understand? Talk to me."
Roy couldn't make anything come out, however, and it frustrated him. He could talk to Link about this, but not to Marth? This wasn't making any sense.
"Roy…"
"I didn't want to say anything about this because it wasn't nearly as bad as what you went through."
Marth suddenly understood. "Roy, war is war, regardless of what happened during it. It isn't trivialized just because your experience is different from mine."
"I know that. The problem is, it doesn't relate. You were orphaned, I was not. That's a huge difference. I didn't want to make out my experiences as so horrible when you lost your father to…to…"
"Gharnef."
"And then your kingdom was invaded, your sister kidnapped, your mother brutally murdered, and you were forced into exile. My experience was like a picnic in comparison!"
Marth fidgeted with the blanket. "This is what's bothering you? The fact that I had such a horrible life and you didn't?"
Roy slowly exhaled. "…Something like that."
"So you feel guilty about talking about your vastly different life experiences because of that?"
Roy nodded.
"You shouldn't. You and I… You and I were both involved in some horrible things. Granted mine were a little worse than most. I lost most of my family. I wanted nothing but revenge. You ended up in a war because of a treaty your father had to respect. You lost someone you deeply respected—someone who was practically family to you. Despite the fact that these things are different, they're still the same, because they're horrible and the result of a war. You shouldn't feel guilty."
"But—"
"But nothing." Marth's tone was severe. "Don't worry about it anymore. We both grew up into stronger people because of it. I turned out fine, you turned out fine…"
Roy leaned back against the headboard. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just assumed that—"
"Don't worry about it anymore, all right? I've told you before, and I will say it again—I love you. If there's anything you need to say, you can always come to me. I want to be the person you trust with everything. That's what a relationship is built on, isn't it? These are the types of things I want to hear. I want to reassure you that everything is okay, and that things turned out all right."
Roy smiled, it was a small one, but a smile nonetheless. "…You're right."
"So no more guilty feelings. I don't mind talking about it anymore. It isn't like I can change it. You can't change what happened to you, either. I might not even know what it is, but it's still the same."
Roy lay down on the bed, fully under the covers now. He rested his head on Marth's lap.
"Marth…"
"What is it, love?" He ran his fingers through Roy's hair, petting him.
"…'Love'?"
Marth flushed slightly. "Is that not an acceptable term of endearment for you?"
Roy tried not to chuckle. "It's fine… I just wasn't expecting something like that from you."
"I'm trying, all right? You need to give me time to get used to this."
"Come lay next to me."
Marth slid further under the covers so Roy's head rested on his chest instead.
"I love you," Roy whispered before turning out the bedroom light.
"I love you too," Marth whispered back, and then kissed him softly on the mouth good night.
-x-
Author's Notes: Yes, I know, this has been a long time coming (since October 25th, in fact), but I ran into a rut with writing, so I just didn't have the drive to do anything. Part of it was because I had a 'wonderful' two month long depression, so that didn't help matters much. Then I got out of it and was faced with a rut as to how to continue this story. I decided to scrap what I had and start over, and it turned out to be better this way. Sorry it took so long for me to figure it all out.
I have chapter three (and part of four) done, but I think it'll need either some major editing or starting over. Hopefully it won't take another two months. It's currently some odd hour of the morning, I've just finished all my editing, and it'll be a brand new day once I actually get some sleep. I refused to until this was done, so consider that my motivation! That and I've left you all waiting long enough, hmm?
So stick around for the next chapter! I sense a plot twist coming up in the future...
Jayden