Voices, too many to count. I cover my ears and clench but they still manage to slip through: How dare you. How dare you!
The three words echo off walls of a seemingly endless space. My body quakes with each repeat, anguish coursing through me.
How DARE you!
Their volume rises, a spectrum of pitches and tones combining in one shrill symphony. The sound fills the room like smoke, stinging my eyes and making me gag.
My arms pump back and forth to move me forward but soon become unsynchronized. Legs, so determined to flee, begin to slow and stumble at an alarming rate. My eyes and throat burn. I collapse, gasping, coughing.
HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU! HOW. DARE. YOU!
"I can't help it!" I wheeze, closing watery eyes. The pressure builds as they close in. Words fall from my mouth, "I can't help…can't…help…Help…"
oOo
Eyes are blinded by God's great light and I wince, turning with a groan to shield them. I toss an arm over my face after forcing heavy lids apart to make out a blurry seven something on the nightstand. The sun's warmth coats my bare back and I sigh, re-curling into the covers.
My mind lingers between conscious and unconsciousness, body nearly submerged in sleep but my head remains above the surface. I can only float for so long however until sinking. Dozing, almost drowning. It happens once, twice, three times before I toss my sheets and bend my hips, letting my legs hang over the bed. An awkward angle to say the least but I lie there, leaden.
When my eyes open again I manage to read a red, glowing five of nine.
"Nine on Monday, okay?"
Cazzo.
I push up with a groan and stumble upright. Aches and pains awaken at the movements, and I bring my arms slowly to my sides. My pants stick to grimy skin and I taste last night's meatloaf in my mouth. I don't have to run hand through my hair to know it's coated with grease.
Bare feet step on shirts and overalls to make their way to bathroom tile. Door ajar, I skip the lightswitch. Cold is more than enough to rouse; I strip, drench, suds up, and rinse faster than the water fully heats. Goosebumps decorate my skin as I shove an iced toothbrush in my mouth.
A voice taps my eardrums as I search for clean clothes among dirty ones. It tempts me to turn to my mattress, my mess of blankets and pillows. To stare at them, longingly, for two seconds too long as I struggle to dress water-speckled skin: It would be easier if you sit.
I wouldn't get back up.
After a spit, swish, and rinse I'm jumping into untied boots and drying damp hands with gloves as I dart out the door. I clasp my hat under my arm before jumping in the pipe, letting the ride blow dry.
oOo
"Sorry, everyone." I take my place at the table. Pairs of eyes watch as I adjust my cap over wind-thrown hair. "Bad night."
"I've had more than a few of those," Toadworth shares, patting my shoulder with his freehand. A foul taste forms at his words, and my face wants to sour because of it. He offers a reassuring smile and I make myself accept. "No need to apologize, lad."
"I'd like to thank you all for coming," Peach begins, drawing the attention away from me. Her expression is sincere but stern as she laces her finger together, "We're here today to discuss matters of the Mushroom Kingdom." She focuses on the group across from her: personal advisors, the chancellor, and overseers of each kingdom territory. "I feel it's best to start with the most pressing matter."
Silence is all the encouragement she needs.
"Last night, we celebrated one hundred days of peace in the Mushroom Kingdom," she glances at me as she says this. "One hundred consecutive days with no sign or trace of Bowser."
"A pleasurable absence, one every citizen is thankful for," the chancellor comments with a puff of his small chest. "Good riddance to him I say!"
I bite my tongue.
"Agreed, Chancellor," the overseer of the grasslands voices. "Without the Koopa King's terror, the farmlands have begun to fully flourish. Other areas, too," she adds after noting her counterparts' approving looks.
"Visitors have shown signs of increase as well," Toadley shares, skimming his notes. "If this keeps up, tourism could be booming again in one, two years time."
The stadiums have always seemed filled to me, towns bustling, streets surprisingly traffic jammed despite the un-urban environment. To think Bowser's absence could mean more people…
"While we have been prospering, I am concerned about the disappearance," Peach refocuses. "We know Bowser's capable of big plans." Images of a bombed Toad Town, the palace forced from the ground, and lethal galaxies snap into view. "I feel we should act, not idle."
My ears perk up as I straighten in my seat. The Toads murmur. Expressions are blatant despite facial hair but vary. Widely.
"Save your opinions for after her highness has fully explained," Toadsworth warns, tapping his cane on the ground. The old steward looks to Peach and the others follow. I lean forward, eyes wide.
"I'm by no means suggesting an attack," she explains, staring at the disapproving faces as she does so. "I intend to maintain the peace, not abandon it. But we need more than hope that Bowser won't be returning."
"But Princess," the chancellor disregards. "Fully consider your previous statement: This is Bowser's longest absence to date. A sign of potential permanent absence in my interpretation," he divulges. "A call to action of any kind would only incite all too familiar fear into the people."
"Not to mention, word spreads around here," the dryland overseer emphasizes. "If Bowser were to learn of our plans…"
A red Toadsworth prepares to scold but Peach settles him with a raise of her hand. "I understand your concern," she says, staring at the overseer before shifting to the Chancellor. "And I too would like to believe Bowser will never attack again." She pauses, shaking her head, "But we have to be realistic, and prepared."
"Prepared how?" another overseer asks.
"I propose a scouting mission," Peach reveals. "A small group that will travel in secret to the Darklands for reconnaissance."
A genuine smile makes my mouth curve and I raise my hand right away, "I'll go, princess." An energy starts to simmer within me. It's a fire, or the start of one. Glowing kindling that with the right touch, tinders, could burn again. I can feel it, see it. A light. I stand, "I could leave right now."
Peach smiles. My hands move to the arms of my chair, eager to push it back and exit. "I admire the enthusiasm Mario," she says, "and love that you're ready to jump into action. No pun intended." I nod eagerly as some chuckle. "But I'd like you to stay here."
My face flattens.
"Again, we don't know what Bowser could be planning. I don't want to sacrifice the kingdom's protection by sending you away." She hesitates, raising her shoulders "And while you are good at traversing the kingdom, you're not exactly," she searches for the right term. "Inconspicuous. I'd like to assemble a few—"
"I could be."
I can't help myself. The sentence slips past the barrier and more words follow, "I can be stealthy. I can! I'll pack plenty of power-ups: Mini and Boo Mushrooms, even a tanooki suit or Cappy could—"
"I want you here, Mario. With me," she repeats. Firm, and her smile is gone.
The still air stings my staring eyes as her pink dress and blond hair begin to blur. I have to blink. Breathe, smile, brush it off but I can't.
I was so close.
"I would also feel more comfortable if you remained in the kingdom for now, Master Mario," Toadsworth voices, slicing the silence.
"If Bowser were to attack while you're weren't here, we wouldn't stand a chance," Toadley concurs.
The Chancellor clears his throat before murmuring, "I suppose a clandestine mission would be fine. And sending Toads would more easily go unnoticed as opposed to our hero."
My throat tightens.
Peach nods, "My thoughts exactly."
"It's a simple enough plan," the grasslands overseer comments. "If you truly feel Mario's time is better spent here." I feel her glance in my direction. "I suggest sending Ala-gold. He's made his fair share of treks across the kingdom."
"Bucken-berry as well," the mountain range overseer notes.
"Those two should have no issue traveling to and from the Darklands," says a third.
A fourth, "They'd be perfect."
Their words fade like heat, and the cold resettles within me, making me shiver.
It's your own fault you know.
It always is.
"Mario?"
I blink, looking back to Peach.
"Do you agree Ala-gold and Bucken-berry would be most suitable for the role?"
Every pair of eyes is expectant, awaiting the agreeable hero say 'yes' or 'mhm.' A murmur. A nod. Approval.
Or else.
I sit back down, clenching the seat of my chair as I force a smile, "Of course, whatever's best for the kingdom."
oOo
The rest of the meeting goes in and out like a poorly tuned radio. My thoughts send signals and static, making me miss most of what's spoken.
As if it matters.
It doesn't.
Bits and pieces can be strung together. Countenances are easily readable. And aside from the first topic (or two), it's all trivial matters: sports this season, where to host them, who to invite. Champagne problems.
Sound familiar?
I know.
"Again, thank you all for coming. We'll reconvene when our scouts return from their journey," Peach concludes, before standing to curtsy and excusing us all. "Mario, if you'd stay behind, please," she requests before I can slip out the door. Hairs on the back of my neck raise as I wait for her in the vacating room. She hands her notes to Toadley before he follows the rest of the group down one end of the hall. The princess flattens the front of her dress before beckoning me to walk with her in the opposite direction.
Toads bustle about as we pass. Some are guards who salute at their posts, others castle-keepers, doing their due diligence to keep the building clean. One casts the curtains aside, letting the sun bathe the halls in natural light and I wince.
"I wanted to apologize," Peach explains, clasping her hands together in front of her. "For opting to go with the toads for the mission. I realize we usually depend on you for these types of things but the scenario is…different to say the least."
Sweat on my palms cools after she speaks. I shake my head, "You don't have to apologize, princess."
But you were so excited," she emphasizes. "And when I shut you down—"
"Peach." I stop once we reach the main hall. Her stained glass portrait coats the floor in colors, showcasing itself so proudly that I have to step out of the light.
"You're doing what's best for your people," I say when my eyes readjust. "As a ruler should." She nods; I hate how convincing I sound. "I serve you, your kingdom," I admit to her as much as myself, relaxing my hands to grab one of hers. "Place me where you feel I'm needed most."
"Here," she says again, squeezing my hands as she does so.
"Then here I am," I affirm, managing only a small smile.
"Thank you, Mario." She squeezes a second time before swinging my arms slightly. "You know, the rest of my day is fairly free. Would you like to add another practice session to our docket? The tennis match is in a few days."
I pull my hands away. Slowly. "No, thank you. I—"
"Already have plans."
I actually exhale, turning to watch her make our way towards us. Crownless and in blue jeans, I almost don't recognize her, but the red hair and familiar-colored crewneck, patched with her favorite flower brooch are hard to miss.
"Daisy," Peach says, lacing her hands. "Great to see you, since I didn't yesterday." She looks at me again.
"Yeah. Sorry," Daisy responds, letting her arms relax across her chest. "Something came up."
"What something exactly?"
My heart hammers so much it actually hurts. I try not to look between the two of them, focusing on the feeling of my curled toes in my boots. Air trapped in my lungs. A roar building behind my ears.
"Something," Daisy says flatly to her face. She exhales, taking a softer approach. "I really am sorry though."
Peach lets air slip through her lips, "You realize your absence leaves a poor image of your kingdom," she admonishes. "As great as Sarasaland is, there are those who judge by formalities, and not showing up to a gala—"
"I'm gonna stop you right there," Daisy cuts, voice calm but strained. "Because you've given me this lecture before, despite me asking you to stop."
Peach continues, "I'm only trying to—"
"Help. Yes. Thank you," Daisy mutters, shoving her hands in her pockets. "Ready to go, Mario?"
"Daisy—"
"Just drop it, Peach," she cuts again before re-softening. "Please."
The Sarasaland ruler starts walking and I follow, eager to leave the conversation behind. A guard has the front door slightly ajar when Peach pipes up again, "I didn't know you two were so friendly." The princess in pink looks to me but I find nothing but nonsense caught in my throat. I'm not about to let that out.
"He's helping me with some things," Daisy supplies when I don't. "Nothing major." She grabs the door and widens the gap for me.
"Goodbye, Princess," I manage, before slipping out and into the afternoon.
Despite how bright it was inside, the sunlight still blinds. It looks and feels almost like Delfino and I shield my face, envious to have a pair of shades from a certain pianta.
"Sleep well?" Daisy asks. Her pace falls in line with mine too easily. Nonchalance is back and has never seemed cooler.
"Fine," I lie, lowering the brim of my cap.
We follow the path. Landscapers sculpt shrubs and trim dying branches along it, waving when they see us though I swear I spot confusion on more than one face. One worker is engrossed with peach picking, placing the fruits in wooden baskets. My stomach gnaws on itself.
When we reach Toad Town's pipe, Daisy fishes her bare hands out and curls them around the warmed metal. She pulls up and swings her legs over, patting the space next to her.
I walk a few more paces before jumping to settle directly across. Her hand stalls for a moment before sliding to sit in her lap. She stares quietly at me, unmoving.
"What am I helping you with today, exactly?" I blurt, pasting on my peppy personality in an attempt to recover.
"Little of this, little of that," she responds quietly after the breeze lets her hair rest on her shoulders.
My fists clench.
"Ready?" she asks, gripping the pipe with both hands and leaning forward.
I want to go home.
Me too.
"Okay!" I say, letting myself fall into the dark after her.
Struggled a bit with this chapter at the end. I originally planned for additional scenes detailing Mario and Daisy's whole day together but it wasn't exactly flowing. So I'll be touching on the afternoon's events (among others) in the following chapter.
Not the most eventful bit here but it establishes a clearer picture of Mario's life currently: Not only is his brother off hunting/studying ghosts with E. Gadd, but Bowser has been gone for a while, long enough to cause some commotion. No adventuring for our lonely hero. Shame. Or is it?
We also got a taste of what Mario's like behind closed doors. He's not doing so hot. More details next chapter.
If you have questions about ANYTHING please don't hesitate to reach out. I'm really putting the effort in to paint Mario's character (in the context of this story) accurately, while not shying too far OOC. If you're confused at all, comment or shoot me a message.
Thank you all for reading, it means more than you know. Comments are more than welcome. Have a great one!