Tiers and Hopes, Book 2

Be All My Sins Remembered

Confiteor (n): a form of prayer confessing sins, used in the Roman Catholic Mass and some other sacraments

—Google Dictionary

It was now 2002. The holidays had passed, and the lights, tinsel and trees were now being taken down. The Melee tournament had settled into a bit of a routine, with fights beginning at 9a.m. and concluding at around 5p.m. Wireframes were now a part of the Smashers' lives, cheerfully providing help when needed, just as Polygons were integral to the first tournament. And Master Hand and Crazy Hand were well-settled into their roles as the Hands of Creation and Destruction, respectively.

Unfortunately, Kirby's situation had only worsened after the dawn of the New Year. MH's chiding words had gone through one ear and out the other. Fox and Falco simply thought they were immune to punishment and continued to do whatever they wished to the Star Warrior, from using him as a ball to "trash-canning" him. Look on the old Smash Blog, and you could find many vicious posts attacking Kirby, and they weren't just from Falco and Fox. A lot of the spectators and gamers chimed in, as well. And of course, Ganondorf and Koopa had some things to say, as well. And while Marth had stopped physically antagonizing Kirby after a chance match-up with Luigi on Yoshi's Story, he continued to do so over the Internet. MH imposed heavy fines on the offenders, but it did little good.

Douglas Jay Falcon was on hand to witness these things, and what he saw made his gut twist. Kirby's trials made him remember the cruel way he was toward Luigi, and while he saw the light and stopped, he felt like he was a participant in this somehow. Through inaction, through unwillingness to lift a finger to stop Fox. Over the course of Melee, Luigi would give him these looks, the pain, anger and betrayal clearer than a pond. Whenever they sparred or fought on the battlefield, the plumber would hit hard and mercilessly, yelling his lungs out. The racer would be drawn into Luigi's eyes, making him remember what he did, making it clear that the time had come for his penance. Sometimes, he'd hear Luigi sniffling at night. One night, he'd passed by the gym on his way from using the toilet and saw Luigi mounted on a spin bike, shirtless, face intense, pedaling briskly. Quietly, he'd leaned against the window and watched, searching for a way to ease his friend's pain. He could hear the sound of his breathing through the glass. And even after he went back to his room and fell asleep, the images of those upper body muscles working and that weaving, sweat-bathed frame were burned into his mind.

At first, he'd tried to support Kirby. He wanted to make it clear to the little guy that he wasn't one of them anymore. But Kirby had been reluctant to trust him, and who could blame him? The other low-tiers, like the Ice Climbers, Pichu and Zelda, gave him the cold shoulder, as well. News of his past behavior must've traveled fast.

Finally, Captain Falcon couldn't take it anymore. Which brings us to the present moment—the racer and bounty hunter sitting in Master Hand's office, seeking out advice.

"I look at what Fox is doing, and I feel so helpless," he was saying. "I want to say something or do something, but he's my friend, y'know? He'll take it the wrong way. But he needs to understand—what he did in 1999 isn't going away anytime soon. His current actions are just compounding the pain. I need to talk to him, but how can I get through?"

MH stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I noticed that you're close friends," he said. "It's likely that he'll listen to you."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then you must show him the consequences of his actions by breaking things off. It's either that or succumb to peer pressure and be drawn back into that life. I see that you've learned your lesson from the first tournament. I'd hate to see you fall back into that behavior."