Tiers and Hopes, Book 2

Drowning

[Trigger warning: Intense violence, cutting and blood.  Proceed at your own risk!]

Kirby slammed open the doors to his room and threw himself onto his bed. His breath was coming fast, and his heart sledgehammered against his chest. Now, he was absolutely sure that everything had gone to Hell.

"Poyo," he sobbed, his rotund body shuddering, the bruises from the latest assault smarting. But the words and the betrayal hurt worse than the bruises.

Why? Why do they keep hurting me? Why is everything my fault nowadays?

He crawled toward the phone on his nightstand and picked it up, one appendage hovered over the keypad. A moment passed. Then another. And another. And then Kirby put the phone back down. What was the point? What would anyone do about this—besides utter the same tried-and-true assurances that everything would be okay and that things would get better?

Well, that was a lie. A God—m lie.

...

Earlier that afternoon...

Master Hand had ended the day's matches a little earlier than usual. Whatever the reason, Kirby was grateful, for less matches meant less opportunities for the audience to heckle him and assail him with thrown objects and venomous words. After his last bout, Kirby showered and made himself comfortable in the Smash Mansion's front yard. It was a relatively warm spring day, without a single cloud to be seen, the sun shining brilliantly in the sky and smiling down at everything below, even Kirby. The pink puffball took comfort in the sun's light and allowed himself to think that maybe, just maybe, Luigi, Jiggs and the rest of the Smashers still friendly with him were right, that everything would turn out just fine in the end.

"Hey, Kirby!" Samus greeted as she walked by, arm-in-arm with Falcon. "Good fighting today!"

"Poy?"

"Of course! It doesn't matter that you lost," Samus said wisely. "You did the best you could."

Kirby sighed. "Poyo poyo poyoyo poy," he said.

"Those tier list worshippers are full of poo," said Falcon. "Why should you care what they think?"

Kirby thought it over. "Poyo," he said finally.

"Exactly. You shouldn't care," smiled Samus.

"Poyo poy!" Kirby chirped brightly. Then, he made a face at Falcon. "Poyoyo poy poyo popoyo poy poyoy poyo poyo."

"Aww, Kirby—I know you want to protect me," said Samus, "but Falcon and I are okay now. We moved past that." She didn't really believe those words, of course, but she didn't want to remain stuck in the past, either.

"Kirby, I know that I wasn't the perfect role model," said Falcon, "but that list blinded me, just like it's blinding Fox. For what it's worth, we're not friends anymore. And while whatever I do won't erase what happened, I hope it can at least make up for it."

Kirby bit his lip as he looked over the racer's remorseful face. "Poyo," he said finally. He wasn't the type to hold grudges, anyway.

Then, he smiled, and Falcon was quick to return the smile.

"Thanks, Kirbs," said the racer. "It means a lot. Wanna catch up sometime?"

"Poyo!" laughed Kirby.

"Great!" Falcon beamed. He and Samus waved at the Star Warrior before continuing on their walk.

Kirby puffed over to a nearby lake and stretched out on his belly, taking in the tranquil scene. Silvery fish skimming along just beneath the waves, butterflies fluttering from flower to flower and birds chirping to each other—it was a perfect way to relax after a trying day of Melee.